by June Francis
‘Beatrice!’ She gazed at Guy. ‘Did you explain to her?’
He nodded. ‘She did not seem surprised that we were getting wed. Sent her best wishes, so she did — and they both sent us a gift. It is upstairs, and you shall see it later.’ His fingers tightened about hers, and there was a look in his eyes that caused her pulses to quicken, before she turned to the cheese tarts spiced with ginger, and her wine.
The sound of hooves came unexpectedly as they were eating nuts. At the shout of a voice raised in anger, they rose as one and faced the door. It was thrust open with a violence that caused Guy’s hand to go to his dagger. Hugo stood in the doorway, his cloak billowing. He was alone. Guy got up and went to meet his brother.
‘Welcome, Hugo, to our wedding feast. There is wine and food enough, if you come in peace. Although I did not expect you quite so soon.’
‘Lancaster and Northumberland settled their differences sooner than we thought.’ Hugo was breathing heavily as he dragged off his gauntlets. ‘You did expect me, then?’
‘Ay.’ Guy stood, his feet slightly apart, tense, waiting for his brother to make the next move.
Philippa rose and put her hand through his arm. ‘I’m sorry, Hugo, for deceiving you and making you unhappy.’
His heavy brows drew together in a fierce frown. ‘He and you are alike. Tricky devils, the pair of you! I believe you’d get rid of any obstacle in your way to gain your ends.’
‘No, Hugo, we simply wanted each other enough to go to such ends,’ said Philippa. ‘I duped Guy as much as you.’
He nodded. ‘I believe you. May I have a drink?’ His eyes went to Rose sitting at the table, dressed in a green woollen surcote. He limped towards her, as she rose and handed him her own goblet. ‘I’ve ridden hard to find you.’ His fingers clung to hers.
‘Why?’ There was strain in her face. ‘I will not be your whore.’
His throat moved. ‘Because you are all that she said you were. Kind, brave, generous! Did you mean it when you said that you — you loved me on sight? That you don’t care that I am a cripple?’
‘I meant it.’ She held her head high.
‘Then perhaps you would do me the favour of becoming my wife,’ he said, his voice rough. ‘I see no other way out of this tangle without appearing a fool.’
‘You are not a fool! But you could have worded your proposal better.’ Tears shone in her eyes.
‘I’m no good with words,’ he muttered. ‘Not like Guy.’
‘I would not say that.’ A smile broke on her face.
‘You would not? I’ve missed you.’
‘I’m glad,’ she said simply.
‘If you are to wed Rose, Hugo, then I think you should know that she will bring you a third of this manor — on condition that you agree to put sheep on the land. There is a shortage of labour here, and it will be the only way to make the most of such a gift,’ said Guy, grinning.
Hugo stared at him, and slowly a smile creased his face. ‘Trust you to get your own way! But why do you give me this third?’
‘Because Rose is kin to me,’ interpolated Philippa. ‘A long time ago, we think that my ancestor and one of hers came together.’
Rose turned, and her tears spilled over. ‘You told me of that, but not that you would give me part of Cobtree.’
‘We wanted you to have something to bring a husband, and that he is to be my brother makes me very happy, Rose,’ said Guy. His hand went out to Hugo. ‘Shall we put the past behind us?’
Slowly Hugo took the hand offered, squeezing it tightly, and lifted the goblet. ‘To the future.’
‘A future that will, I hope, be blessed with a son,’ whispered Rose, staring into his face. ‘I do not only bring you land, but I carry your child: an heir to that land.’
‘Lass,’ he murmured, coming round the table, ‘that is the best gift of all!’ He put down the goblet and embraced her for an extremely long time.
Later that night, Philippa lay beneath Guy in the gift from Beatrice and James. It was a large bed with an embroidered coverlet, and a canopy and curtains. Never in her darkest dreams … Never in the best of her dreams had she dared to imagine that in such a bed …
Guy kissed her, and her happiness soared. She had wondered when it actually came to being a wife whether it would be different — the joining — the entwining — the whispering kiss of flesh upon flesh. Husband and wife! Lovers!
‘Guy!’ she murmured, when their lips parted.
‘Hmmm!’
‘Now that we are wed, tell me — do you not agree that all I did was right?’
‘Right?’ His arms tightened about her. ‘Only a woman would reason that out. You lied and deceived me just to get me where you wanted.’
‘Sadly, that is true.’ She nuzzled his ear. ‘But was I not right?’
‘You were mad — quite mad, my precious lady deceiver. But now is not the time to talk,’ he muttered, his passion rising as she wriggled beneath him.
‘But all is well?’ She gave a whisper of pleasure as they became one flesh.
‘It is perfect.’ He closed her mouth with a kiss, and they were in complete accord.
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Historical Note
IN 1381, the peasants in England revolted, mainly because of their grievances against their lords. Most peasants were villeins, who belonged to masters and were obliged to give service, and dues on special occasions such as the harvest. They were not free to marry, and could be sold. Some lords did free their tenants and paid them wages, taking money for rent of houses and land. Naturally arguments arose over wages, so these freemen were dissatisfied also.
The revolt was triggered by the imposition of a poll-tax, the third and heaviest set in five years. It was a groat (five pence) per head, and was to be paid by all those over fifteen years old, except widows and genuine beggars.
The main focus of the revolt was Kent and Essex, where during the spring, men hid their womenfolk and lied about their children’s ages when the tax collectors came round. The deception was soon realised, and royal officials went out again to collect the withheld taxes. Some men refused to pay, and the collectors were stoned. The rebellion grew when the council of King Richard II dithered about taking action against the first rebels.
The peasants’ main aim was to destroy proof of their bondage and dues, so lawyers were attacked and property destroyed. Prisoners were also freed.
In Kent they were led by Wat Tyler, who probably came from Maidstone and could have been a soldier returned from the French wars, who knew how to command men. The man who put all their hopes into words was John Ball, a priest from York, who had tramped England for twenty years, preaching against greed and pride in high places.
The Lollards followed the teachings of John Wycliffe, also from Yorkshire, who had translated the scriptures into English. He also laid down the need for changes in doctrine in the church, and challenged the authority of the priests. The Lollards also preached the equality of men, as did John Ball. Some believed the Lollards to be the instigators of the revolt.
Richard’s government was extremely unpopular. The chancellor was the Archbishop of Canterbury, a good and honest man, but inexperienced in finance. Financial matters were so bad that the king’s jewels had been pawned.
John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the king’s uncle, was hated by many of the common people. Rumours that he had freed his bondsmen in the north reached Kent via the pilgrims in Canterbury, and caused his villeins in the south to decide to declare him king if this were true, and to swear loyalty to him over and against that to Richard.
Probably the words taken from one of John Ball’s sermons puts in a nutshell the peasants’ belief in equality: ‘When Adam delved and
Eve span, who was then the gentleman?’
