by June Francis
Whilst Gawain went to inspect some sheep, Beth decided to spend her pennies on fairings. Unexpectedly, she caught sight of Father Hugh watching her and she wondered if he had seen her with Gawain. For a moment she was filled with trepidation in case the priest should come over and question her, but then he turned and hurried away. On impulse she decided to follow him, only to lose him in the crowd. She wondered if Tom and Sam were concealed amongst the throng, keeping their eye on him. She hoped so and returned to her enjoyment of the fair. She purchased a pair of gloves, several new ribbons, a posy of wild flowers and a corn dolly. There was food to be had, too, and she bought wafers, cakes, as well as mince pies from a pie man shouting out his wares. She also noticed one of the apprentices talking to folk and handing out strips of printed paper.
Gawain rejoined Beth as she was eating a pie and watching a juggler perform. She handed over the pie she had bought for him and gave him a smile, but he did not return it.
‘What is wrong?’ she asked.
‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ he said, biting into the pie.
She hesitated, wondering if he had noticed Father Hugh and did not like to say. ‘I saw Father Hugh and decided to follow him, but he simply disappeared,’ she murmured.
He frowned. ‘He didn’t approach you?’
‘No.’
‘Good.’
‘But it’s possible he saw us together,’ said Beth.
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Anyhow, I did see Sam and he told me that the Cardinal has also returned.’
‘You will seek an audience with him?’ asked Beth eagerly.
‘Aye. Pray that he will provide us with the answer we both want,’ said Gawain.
When they returned to the house, Gawain excused himself and told Beth not to wait up for him. ‘I could be some time.’
‘You will be careful?’
He smiled faintly. ‘You must not worry about me.’
She wanted to tell him that people who care for each other can’t help but worry about the other’s safety. ‘I won’t then!’ she said lightly, closing the door on him.
Gawain hesitated a moment outside, wondering if he should have told her about his other destination, but he was short of time. He strode swiftly in the direction of the Bartholomew Inn where he had an appointment with one John Quedgeley. Earlier in the day he had rubbed shoulders with him at the sheep pens at Smithfield for a while before realising they had met before. He was an importer of wine and lived in Winchelsea just over the Kent border in Sussex. Master Quedgeley had mentioned having seen Mary in Winchelsea a month ago, but before Gawain could find out whether he knew where Mary and the children were staying, they were interrupted. Master Quedgeley had mentioned where he was lodging in London, so Gawain had decided to call on him that evening. He wanted to be as free of Mary as she did him, so he could not imagine she and the man she believed to be her husband not agreeing to his plan. As for the children, he was determined to bring them home with him as soon as possible.
Fortunately he found Master Quedgeley at the inn and he was able to provide Gawain with the information he needed. They talked for a while, but as soon as dusk fell, Gawain excused himself and returned to the house. He found the front door locked and, although exasperated, he knew that he should be grateful that Beth was taking all necessary precautions for her safety. He banged on the door and almost instantly heard the sound of footsteps hurrying to answer his summons.
The door opened and Beth stood in the doorway in her night attire, holding a candle. ‘Did you see Wolsey?’ she asked eagerly.
‘I did not visit the Cardinal,’ he replied, ushering her inside and closed the door behind him.
‘Then where have you been?’ she said, looking surprised, disappointed and a little suspicious.
‘I will explain in a moment. Right now I am hungry and you should not have come to the door in your night attire,’ he scolded.
She flushed. ‘I thought that perhaps the Cardinal might have invited you to stay until morning and so I went to bed.’
‘Well, go and get dressed. I have much to tell you,’ said Gawain, stealing a brief kiss. ‘And I will not be able to concentrate with you wearing so little.’
‘If that is what you wish,’ she said, smiling, and hurried upstairs.
Gawain fumbled his way to the kitchen where a fire still glowed in the fireplace. He lit a candle and placed it in a holder and took bread and cheese from the pantry and poured himself some ale. He had only begun to eat when he heard his name being called and feet on the stairs. He left the kitchen and collided into Beth. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
Her candle set shadows dancing about the walls. ‘I deem there is a fire somewhere. There is a strange glow outside and I can hear the crackle of wood and a peculiar popping noise,’ she replied.
‘You stay here,’ ordered Gawain, heading for the front door.
‘No!’ said Beth, clinging to his sleeve. ‘I’m coming with you.’
He wasted no time arguing with her, but flung the door open. Instantly he knew that she was right because he could smell smoke and see that strange glow she had mentioned. He stepped outside and his heart began to thud in anticipation of what he might find; within moments he realised that it was Beth’s business that was on fire. The instant that hit him, he spotted a gangly woman running away from the fire in the direction of St Paul’s Cathedral. She was extremely tall for her sex and there was something odd about her gait. He would have gone after her if dousing the flames had not been his first priority.
He began to yell at the top of his voice, ‘Fire, fire!’
Within moments doors opened and people hurried out into the street. Some were in night attire, but others were fully dressed. A ripple of sound passed through them.
‘There’ll be buckets of water in the yard,’ cried Beth, seizing Gawain’s arm. ‘We always have some in hand in case there should be a fire. We’ll need to fetch more water from the great conduit in Cheapside or from the River Fleet.’
He was about to tell her to rouse the servants when Jane, the cook and the maids appeared. ‘What about the apprentices who sleep over the workshop?’ panted Jane.
‘We’ll have to go through the back yard to wake them,’ said Beth, gasping as the shutters at the front of the building fell apart and collapsed on to the ground in a burning mass.
They ran through the house and out of the back, followed by several neighbours. In no time at all the first buckets of water were being thrown into the flames, while Gawain forced his way into the print room and up the stairs. He was met halfway by the apprentices. One had still been awake and had heard the commotion. Gawain thought of all the paper inside the building and of the newly printed copies of The Canterbury Tales and was angry, thinking how quickly all would catch fire. He told them to help him save what they could.
News had swiftly spread and they were soon joined by the master printer and the bookbinder and their brothers. Somehow between them they managed to drag one of the presses into the yard before going back to try to save as many forms of lead type and paper and anything else they could lay their hands on. Some items of stationery and books had to be left to burn. Fortunately the shop had done brisk business in the sale of the new printing of Chaucer’s Tales that day.
‘The steel chests must be saved,’ said Beth, her voice hoarse.
She would have gone inside herself if Gawain had not dragged her back and plunged into the building once more. Her heart was pounding in her breast, worried as she was for his safety. Really she should not have mentioned them. Then he appeared through the smoke with the bookbinder, dragging the chest, and she was filled with relief and gratitude that Gawain was safe.
He seized her hand and led her out of the yard, through her house and into the front. He had no doubt that the fire had been caused deliberately and felt heartsick for Beth. How would she recover from this terrible catastrophe?
Outside in the street, sparks had set fire to thatch, which was swiftly br
ought down by hooks on long handles. More people appeared with buckets and joined the gangs of people weaving a way to the great conduit, as well as the River Fleet. Gawain, Beth and her employees joined them. All worked tirelessly and without stopping to prevent the whole row of buildings from being destroyed. Despite all their efforts, Beth’s business premises were destroyed, but at least the fire was contained and her home was still standing, although the windows were shattered from the heat.
She sank wearily to the ground and her tears formed rivulets on her blackened face. Gawain knelt and put his arm around her and tried to comfort her. She sobbed against his shoulder and only when she gained control of her emotions did she realise he was holding himself rigid. ‘You are hurt?’ she croaked.
‘It could be worse.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘At least no lives have been lost.’
‘I am grateful for that, but what am I to do now?’ asked Beth in a despairing voice, gazing into his eyes that shone like steel in his filthy face. ‘My business is destroyed.’
‘We’ll get the person who did this,’ he said harshly. ‘It was no accident. I saw a woman running away from the building.’
‘A woman!’
‘Aye, an extremely tall woman and I was reminded of the description of the figure who went into your father’s tent in France.’
‘I had almost forgotten about her,’ said Beth, collecting her wits. ‘Or had we decided that it was a him in disguise?’
‘Whoever it was, for now they have escaped us,’ said Gawain, helping her to her feet. She swayed against him and he lifted her high against his chest. ‘You need to rest.’
‘But I am filthy dirty and in no state to sleep between the sheets,’ she muttered. ‘Where are Jane and the other servants?’
‘They’re around somewhere,’ said Gawain. ‘Do not be worrying about others right now. Just rest against me.’
Beth obeyed him, closing her eyes but she could not ignore her senses as he carried her inside the house.
The air was hot and the smoke seemed to have permeated everything. ‘We can’t stay here,’ said Gawain.
She lifted her head and stared into his face as she clung to him. ‘But where can we go at this time of night?’
‘We’ll sleep in the open air.’
A throaty chuckle escaped her. ‘You would take me into the country?’
‘Aye, I will take you to my boat.’
She looked at him, surprised. ‘I had almost forgotten we had travelled from Smallhythe in your boat. Will we not need blankets and pillows? And what about clean clothes and how will you find the way?’
‘Questions, questions, Beth! Does that inquisitive mind of yours never stop?’ he teased. ‘Trust me.’
‘All right, I will trust you,’ she said, giving him a serious little smile. ‘You do realise that it is unlikely that you will ever find a suitor for me now that I am without a dowry.’
‘You sound almost pleased.’
‘Every cloud has its silver lining. We’re alive and while there’s breath in me, I will rejoice that we both survived such a terrible calamity,’ she said in a lilting voice.
He could only be glad that she felt like that right now. Of course, later she might feel differently.
More than two hours must have passed by the time they had sailed upstream by moonlight, passing the riverside residents of the bishops of Exeter and Bath and Wells that lay beyond the city walls until they had left even the Palace of Westminster behind. The sun was rising over the river in a ripple of apricot and gold when Gawain furled the sail and used a weighted line to test the depth of the water before dropping anchor. Beth had dozed off in the stern of the boat, but now he roused her before going over the side with a rope and wading to the grassy bank where several trees provided some shelter.
Beth stifled a yawn as she watched him from red-rimmed eyes. ‘Where are we?’ she asked.
‘Our own little paradise,’ replied Gawain, his teeth white against the dirt on his face as he smiled at her. ‘You stay there and I’ll come back for you.’
‘It does not look very deep.’ She clambered over the side and after a moment’s hesitation released her hold on the boat. The chill of the water caused the breath to catch in her throat, but as she waded towards him she felt laughter bubbling up inside her. ‘I never imagined myself doing this a few hours ago and saying what I am about to say. What a wonderful morning!’
Gawain’s eyes flashed blue fire. ‘We are both filthy, our clothes are ruined and yet you are happy.’ He threw back his head and laughed joyously.
She twinkled up at him. ‘Aye, because we are together and it does not matter if our garments are wet.’
‘No, but they will be unpleasant against the skin if we leave them on for any length of time,’ he murmured, holding her gaze.
The breath caught in her throat. ‘Then I will take mine off, although, I deem I will need help with my fastenings.’ She gazed down at her hands. ‘I should have thought to put on gloves.’
Gawain paused in the process of unfastening his shirt and gently took her hands between his own. ‘Why did you not say earlier how badly blistered they were? You should not have been passing pails with them in this condition.’ He raised her palms to his lips and kissed them before dipping them into the water.
It was cool and soothing and a sigh escaped Beth. ‘Do you swim?’ she asked after several moments.
He nodded. ‘I don’t suppose you can?’
She shook her head. ‘It would indeed have been a miracle if my father had thought it important that I should learn to swim, but I would like to float on the surface.’
‘It would be a pleasure to help you do so,’ said Gawain.
‘You will not let me go?’ she asked tentatively.
A laugh broke from him. ‘What a question to ask! I will not let you go, love,’ he said, his voice a caress.
He reached out and began to undo the fastenings on her gown. His fingers brushed against her bosom and he heard the breath catch in her throat. Should he be doing this when so many questions needed answers and their future hung in the balance? he asked himself as he eased her gown down over her hips, taking her chemise with it.
‘You will wed me if you are able?’ she whispered. ‘Even though I would be content to be your lover if not?’
‘I will have you for my wife,’ he replied, tossing aside the doubts that would assail him. They sank into the water and he brought her against him and kissed her sooty face.
‘I do not like coming to you dirty,’ she said, her eyes closed.
‘The dirt will wash away.’ He smiled and kissed her eyelids and then her throat and then his eyes took in the delicious curves of her breasts. Lowering his head, he caught one of her nipples between his lips and sucked. She gasped and her eyelids flew wide.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Do you not like it?’
‘I did not say that.’
‘No, you want us to be really clean.’ Without more ado, Gawain released her, stripped and waded back into the water until it was deep enough to immerse himself fully.
Beth watched, enchanted by the sight of his muscular nakedness in all its comeliness before the water swallowed him up. She waded towards him, then suddenly the bottom fell away beneath her feet and she screamed. Instantly he was there beside her and lifting her against his chest. The next moment he was swimming on his back with her floating on top of him. She gasped as her chin touched his shoulder and then she swallowed a mouthful of water and coughed. Gawain begged her pardon and turned her over so that she was on her back. Beth’s fear of the water abated and she closed her eyes, enjoying the silky feel of it against her skin, but more than anything, she loved the sensations roused within her by the feel of his body supporting her. But this first such experience of floating in the water did not last long and soon he swam with her towards the shore, until she was able to stand up and climb out of the water onto the grassy bank.
He had heaved himself into the boat
, but after a few moments, he joined her on shore, carrying a couple of blankets and drying cloths. Neither could take their eyes from each other. He spread one of the blankets on the dew-sparkled grass and then brought her close to him and wrapped her in the drying cloth. He begun to rub her briskly until her skin tingled. She stilled his hands before placing her arms around him and kissing him on the mouth.
Afterwards, Beth could not remember how they came to be lying on the blanket, but she would never forget the strength of his arms or the hunger of his kisses that was savage in its intensity. Her desire for him to possess her spiralled out of her control as his touch roused in her sensations that demanded release. When he took her it was with a passion that swept her beyond all reason or resistance and she clung to him, her need for him as urgent as that which she felt in him for her.
‘Gawain,’ she gasped.
‘Hush, Beth, this is no time for talking,’ he groaned.
‘I know. It is for lovemaking,’ she whispered, allowing herself to be swept away on waves of such ecstasy that she thought she might die from the wonder of it.
She fell asleep in his arms with the blanket wrapped around them, all thought of the fire forgotten.
When Beth woke she had no notion of how long she had slept. Gawain’s eyes were shuttered and he appeared perfectly relaxed. She broke off a blade of grass and tickled his face with it. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her and then at the sky before sitting bolt upright. ‘You must get dressed,’ he ordered.
‘Of course I must, and so must you. You do have some clean garments for us?’ she enquired. ‘I have no idea what happened to our other clothes. I deem they must have floated away.’
He reached out a hand and closed it on her breast and brought himself against her. ‘I care for you, Beth, more than I have the right to say at this moment. I should not have allowed what took place between us to happen until I could have called you wife.’
