‘I’m afraid there was some confusion, Sire. Master Carpenter left some time ago.’
‘Oh.’ Edward looked down at his hands. ‘Well, that’s a shame for him because I was going to offer him a substantial sum as a thank you. But...’ he shrugged his royal shoulders ‘...I’m not about to chase a stable lad across the country.’
And that was it. The subject of Avva was over.
William sank down on to a chair as the conversation around him resumed.
He couldn’t believe that, for one moment, he had been prepared to risk everything to keep Avva in his life.
He had actually thought about offering to marry her, forgetting his lifelong dream of restoring the barony to the wealth of his forefathers. He had, for a brief instant, imagined a future where he put his own happiness before that of his family’s legacy. But she hadn’t wanted that future with him.
She had repeatedly told him she expected nothing from him. While he had uttered words of love during the night, she had not reciprocated. Once again, he’d been a fool. While he was falling in love, she wasn’t. She’d told him theirs was a momentary pleasure, but he hadn’t listened.
When she had said she had no expectations for their future, he had thought she was protecting herself but it turned out she had been telling the truth. She wanted nothing from him.
He’d been prepared to risk his future and everything he’d planned since he’d been a young boy, all because of her.
She had told him that there was too much of a social divide between them, but he hadn’t heard her—as deep in love as he was, he had thought that was surmountable. But she had meant it. The dream, the one he’d only just dared to imagine, had fallen through his fingers like smoke.
Now he stood in the cold, empty chamber, the reality of his situation setting in. Of course he was not going to give up the chance to marry a wealthy heiress. A union of convenience had been what he’d planned his whole life. He’d been on the verge of turning into his parents, of throwing away the potential to restore the barony to its former glory, all because of a woman who didn’t even like him enough to say farewell.
No, the union with Lady Ann was a good progression.
It didn’t matter that his heart burned with the pain of losing Avva. He was doing the right thing. He had to be, because otherwise the agony of his heartbreak was pointless.
Chapter Nineteen
Northern England—late spring 1331
The sky was a grey blanket of cloud. Spring, which had already started in the south, hadn’t made a breakthrough this far north.
William had entered into his family’s land early this morning, having ridden through the night. Eirwen was beginning to tire, but William pressed him on. He wanted to get this visit over with as quickly as possible. He would arrive today, inform his parents about his union with Lady Ann, check on the state of the finances and leave tomorrow.
That would give Eirwen plenty of time to recover while allowing William minimum exposure to his parents’ chaos.
The castle came into view and William frowned. Even from a distance he could see that some of the stonework needed fixing. His whole jaw tensed. He tried to loosen it. It would do no good to arrive at his parents’ home frowning over the state of it. But really...the whole castle probably wouldn’t withstand a siege. Not that there was anything worth taking on the inside, just a wide collection of detritus his parents had amassed over the years.
He passed through a gate in the town walls—the streets were bustling with people. He knew they would expect him to stop and talk—his parents knew everyone by name—but he was tired and wanted nothing more than a long, hot soak.
He did not want to talk to anyone. He hadn’t for a while now. Not since Avva had walked out of his life four weeks ago without looking back.
‘Master William... Master William.’
William tried not to slump in his saddle, but he couldn’t help his shoulders drooping a little. He couldn’t ignore the baker—the man had never failed to give William a sweet treat whenever he’d passed as a child. And William had passed by a lot.
William drew Eirwen to a stop outside the baker’s shop.
The man’s smile was so wide it almost reached from ear to ear. William wondered whether he would ever feel that happy again. He sincerely doubted it.
‘You’re heading up to the castle to see your parents.’
William nodded, although it wasn’t really a question. Where else would he be going?
‘You take them this bread.’ The baker tucked a loaf into the top of one of William’s saddlebags. ‘And here are some of those treats you like so much.’
William’s heart contracted as the old man’s gnarled hands tucked more food into the bag. He managed to choke out a thank you and to ask how the old man’s family was faring. By the time William managed to pull away, he knew vast amounts about the man’s numerous grandchildren—the baker was obviously very proud of his growing brood.
And so he should be.
William succeeded in avoiding a long conversation with anyone else, but that didn’t make his journey through the town any quicker. Everyone wanted to stop and smile at him, to pat Eirwen and touch a part of William, almost as if he were a talisman.
Eirwen bore the attention far better than he did. By the time he reached the stables he was desperate for his own company.
His heart clenched painfully as two stable boys rushed out to take care of Eirwen. They were efficient and jovial, but they were not Avva. The interior of the stables was cosy, but it had nothing of the cleanliness of hers. Such comparisons were unhelpful. He needed to forget her and move on with his life.
‘William.’ He turned—there was only one person who could ever say his name with such unbridled delight.
‘Mother.’ He stepped forward and she fell into his opened arms.
‘Look at you, so big and handsome. So like your father.’ William tried not to roll his eyes. Nobody was as perfect as his father, in his mother’s eyes. But at least she thought he was like him, that was progress. ‘You should have sent word you were coming, we would have prepared a feast.’ Which was exactly why he hadn’t. His parents didn’t need to waste expenditure on him.
‘It is fine, Mother. All I need is a good wash.’
‘Yes, you do smell a bit. Come on, let’s go and visit your father.’
‘But I wouldn’t want to see him while I smell of the journey.’
‘Nonsense, your father will be delighted to see you. He won’t mind.’
William allowed himself to be tugged into the keep. It was only until tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would be on his way again. Tomorrow, he would be able to do things properly again.
The Great Hall was a riot of voices, roaring laughter and the crackle of flames in the giant hearth. His father was not sitting upon the dais, but stood in the centre of the room, laughing with two peasants.
‘Son,’ he boomed as soon as he caught sight of William. ‘Come and hear this.’
William was dragged into the conversation, which appeared to be an argument about who had the right to farm on what land. William couldn’t keep up with the argument, but it appeared his opinion wasn’t needed. By the end of the discussion, William’s father had ruled that the men must share the disputed area and sent them on their way.
‘Father,’ said William, unable to keep his voice from showing the exasperation he felt, ‘they will only be back again when they next get on each other’s nerves.’
‘Oh, undoubtedly, but you see, Son, they are so vastly entertaining. I should miss them dreadfully if they came to some sort of amicable agreement. It would quite ruin my fun. Garth...’ William’s father turned as he called for his steward. ‘Sort the rest of these people out, will you? I am going to spend some time with my son. Did I tell you he’s become one of the King’s Knights?’
‘Several
times, my lord,’ said Garth, bowing in William’s direction.
‘Well, I’m very proud.’
‘I know, my lord. As are we all.’
William felt heat sweep up his neck. He wasn’t fair to his parents. He didn’t deserve their pride when he was ashamed of them. At least neither they nor anyone else knew about his feelings. Well, one person did, but Avva didn’t count as she would never meet them. His heart twisted.
He’d thought he’d now be free of thoughts of her, but if anything it was getting worse. He thought about her almost constantly, the ache of missing her wrapped around his heart and refusing to let go.
He followed his parents into their private chambers, noting that even now, after nearly thirty years of marriage, and numerous children, they were still holding hands.
Large cushions surrounded the hearth. His father helped his mother lower herself down into one and then settled next to her, recapturing her hand and holding it in his lap.
‘Sit, William, and tell us what brings you north.’
‘I...’ Somehow, the words of the news of Lady Ann became stuck in his throat.
‘You have fallen in love and she will not have you.’
William lifted his head sharply at his mother’s words. ‘Whatever gave you that impression?’
‘I can see it in your eyes.’
William’s heart rate increased. ‘What nonsense.’
‘Do not speak to your mother like that. King’s Knight or not, I shall have you over my knee.’
William glanced down at his father—the slightly protruding stomach and the soft jowls which hung down from his chin suggested he hadn’t done much hand-to-hand combat in a while. Still, the man really did love his wife, so there was the possibility of his anger helping him at least try to carry out his threat.
‘Please sit, William.’ His mother’s eyes twinkled softly in the firelight, her smile telling him she agreed with William’s assessment of her husband’s physical fitness.
William had always had a soft spot for his mother—he’d missed her desperately when he’d gone away for his knight’s training. She was a bit daft, but very loving towards everyone. He could understand why his father was so smitten.
William lowered himself on to one of the cushions opposite his parents. It was surprisingly comfortable. The fire warmed the side of his face and for the first time in days the knots in his back relaxed.
‘Tell me about her,’ said his mother softly.
William cleared his throat. ‘The King has granted me permission to marry Lady Ann of Clyde. I don’t know if you are aware of her family, but they own—’
‘Tell us of the woman you have fallen in love with, William,’ his mother interrupted gently.
‘I’m telling you about my future wife.’
‘You’re telling us about a transaction. I want to know about the woman who has put shadows in your eyes.’
William rubbed a hand across his face. ‘There is nothing wrong with my eyes.’ His parents, unusually, remained quiet. ‘There was a woman, but she was not...it was not going to... I’m marrying Lady Ann of Clyde so it doesn’t...’ To his absolute horror his eyes began to burn. Dear God, he wasn’t going to cry, was he?
He was a grown man, he’d not shed a tear since... He couldn’t remember ever crying. Perhaps he had when he was a babe, but he’d known ever since he could remember that real men didn’t cry.
He stared into the fire, concentrating on his breathing.
‘What was wrong with your woman, William? Did she not love you back?’
William blinked some more. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Did she reject you?’
‘She left without saying goodbye.’
‘Tell us the whole story, Son.’ William glanced at his father. For once he wasn’t smiling his customary grin. In fact, his parents looked miserable. It was such an unusual expression on their faces that William found himself pouring out the whole story. His parents sat in silence, listening to his every word. ‘So you see, she cannot have loved me or she would have stayed.’
‘It seems to me that Avva didn’t have any incentive to stay.’
William looked at his mother sharply. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Had you not told her, repeatedly, that there was no future for the two of you?’
‘Yes, but I would never have...that is to say...’ Even having discussed everything with his parents, William still felt heat wash over his face at his attempt to talk about the night he’d spent with Avva.
‘She doesn’t know that though, does she, William? For all she knows, that is how you treat all your conquests.’
‘I don’t have conquests!’ William wished he had never brought this up. Talking to his parents about such private matters was almost intolerable. Although—he touched his heart—it didn’t ache as badly as it had when he’d arrived and before he’d started talking.
‘I am sure you are as chivalrous as a lover as you are as a knight,’ said his father, his habitual smile firmly back in place. William groaned and dropped his head into his hands. ‘But the truth is, you didn’t give young Avva a chance. You should have found out if she loved you back and only then should you have made a decision about your future.’
‘I am going to wed Lady Ann.’ Even to his own ears, his voice did not sound convincing. Was there really a possible future for him out there that didn’t involve a loveless marriage? Could Avva have felt the same for him and he had been too irrational to find out?
‘Why do you have to marry this lady you’ve never met?’ asked his mother.
‘She is from a wealthy family.’
‘Well, that will certainly make your life comfortable. But is that what you really want? Your father and I have love and each other and you cannot buy that.’
‘But what of the dowries for my sisters?’
His father blinked. ‘We are not so poor we cannot afford dowries for the girls. They will not be large, but they will do well enough. They are going to be great beauties and are related to a member of the King’s Knights after all. Love is what matters, William.’
‘Yes, but...’
‘But what?’ His mother’s voice was gentle and not accusatory.
William inhaled deeply. ‘You are in love and that’s great, but it’s not right for everyone.’
‘Yes, it is,’ said his father. ‘There is nothing greater.’
‘The babies,’ William croaked.
His mother frowned. ‘I am sorry you were around for our heartbreak over losing our babies. We should have tried to hide that from you. We will always remember every loss, but we are proud and delighted by our living children. They are a result of our love.’
William’s beliefs were slipping through his fingers. There was another reason not to follow his heart. He must remember that.
‘But it makes you do ridiculous things.’ William regretted his outburst immediately. His parents recoiled as if they’d been hit.
‘What in God’s name are you talking about?’ demanded his father.
William couldn’t look at his parents, he didn’t want to see the hurt he caused them written across their faces. ‘All my life, your expenditure has far exceeded the barony’s income and then there’s the dressing up and parading around. People are laughing at you.’
William had never meant to say such things to his parents. They might be faintly absurd, but they were never cruel. They were worth a thousand Caerdens, probably tens of thousands. At their continued silence, shame began to creep up his spine. He was an awful person, he deserved to be miserable.
‘I like to think,’ said his father eventually, ‘that people are laughing with us and not at us. But, even if they are, why does that matter, William? It is not for others to tell us how to live our lives. Your mother and I have found great joy in one another. Every day w
e laugh together, even when everything seems quite dark. After thirty years that is something quite remarkable.’
His mother nodded. ‘Your Avva certainly doesn’t listen to convention, dressing as a man, taking a man’s role to ensure the security and well-being of her younger brothers. That is to be admired greatly, I think. She even risked her life for your safety—you don’t do that for someone you don’t care about deeply.’
William’s stomach swooped uncomfortably. It was true that Avva had said she was not a supporter of the King—could she have been there to help William? She’d never said as much, even when pressed, but then he’d not told her his feelings either. His heart squeezed at the thought. But, if it were true that she loved him, it still didn’t explain why she had left without saying goodbye. If she cared so much for him, surely she could have waited out the morning before leaving. Had he made a terrible mistake in not finding out for sure?
‘As for the expenditure...’ William jumped—he had forgotten his parents were still in the room with him. His mother was looking at him kindly, but his father was frowning as he spoke. ‘Some years we may spend more than we receive, but others we don’t. We have managed to keep ourselves, and the people who depend upon us, in good health for many years. Of course, some of the tapestries in the Great Hall are a little threadbare, but was anyone in there starving?’
‘No.’ In fact, the room had been filled with laughter. The contrast between Caerden’s Great Hall and his father’s was extreme.
William’s stomach twisted again—it was a sensation he was coming to despise.
‘I think you should stay a few days, William,’ said his mother, as she stood and straightened out her skirts. ‘You should talk to our people, your sisters, too, see how everyone really feels about us. After all, they will be your people soon enough.’
‘Not too soon,’ said his father, standing, too.
His mother merely laughed and patted her husband on the cheek. ‘If, after you have stayed and really given it some thought, you still want to marry Lady Ann, then we will give you our full support.’
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