by June Francis
‘Because, Master Hurst, even the most exciting adventures can appear dull if the writer seeps all the emotion out of events by writing about them as if he was simply walking along his own high street and they were commonplace.’
A flush darkened his cheekbones. ‘I would not claim to possess the talents of Master Chaucer or Homer, Mistress Llewellyn,’ he said stiffly. ‘But I have only to read my own words and the memories come flooding back and I can feel the thrill and the fear.’
‘But others do not possess those memories, Master Hurst,’ she said promptly. ‘So that is why it was necessary for your brother and I to use our descriptive powers and fill in the gaps for your future readers.’ She dropped her hand and said urgently, ‘Surely you would not rob those who will never leave the security of their own hearth of the vicarious pleasure of sharing in your experiences?’
His brow knit. ‘You really believe that there is a market for my ramblings?’
‘Hardly ramblings, Master Hurst—that would mean your writing is all over the place, when it is set down in an orderly fashion,’ said Beth. ‘It just lacks—’
‘There is no need for you to repeat your opinion of what it lacks, Mistress Llewellyn,’ he responded. ‘I must admit that I do find it difficult to accept that a young woman such as yourself is experienced enough to pass judgement in such matters.’
‘That is a typical male remark,’ said Beth sweetly. ‘My guardian, Sir Gawain Raventon, was of a similar opinion when we first met, but if you were to speak with him now, I deem you would find that he has changed his mind concerning my abilities. I have grown up in this business, Master Hurst, and I have confidence that I know that your so-called ramblings could be a success.’
Nick Hurst hesitated. ‘And if I refuse to permit you to use the material you have taken from my journal?’
‘Then I and my guardian will miss out on recovering some of our losses and perhaps go out of business, Master Hurst,’ said Beth.
He surprised her by smiling. ‘You must have a lot of faith in my ramblings if you believe they could help save your business, Mistress Llewellyn.’
‘Indeed, I have,’ she said firmly.
‘Then I withdraw my objection and, if you are short of funds to achieve your plans, then I am prepared to invest in your company.’
She was taken aback. ‘That is exceedingly generous of you, Master Hurst, but Master Christopher Hurst has already provided a sum of money for a special edition of your journal.’
‘I am aware of Christopher’s part in this, but my offer, Mistress Llewellyn, is more in the way of a business venture,’ said Nick.
‘Then you had best speak to my guardian. I am not allowed to make such decisions without his being consulted,’ said Beth.
‘I will certainly speak to Gawain about such an investment. It was he who suggested I visit you here.’
Beth stiffened. ‘You have seen him?’
‘Aye, he is on his way here now,’ informed Nick. ‘Is it permitted that I see your workshop?’ he added, changing the subject.
‘Of course you may,’ said Beth, her emotions all in a whirl at the thought of seeing Gawain so soon after his last visit. What was it he had to tell her? Was it Nicholas Hurst’s sudden arrival that had brought him hotfoot to London, or was it some other matter of a more worrying nature concerning Mary?
Nick cleared his throat. ‘Mistress Llewellyn, you appear to have gone off into a trance.’
Beth collected herself. ‘I beg your pardon! Do come through to the back. Some pages of your journal were taken off the press a short while ago and I would be interested to see what you think of them. I may add that I am having woodcuts made of your drawings.’
He followed her through into the print room and she introduced him to her employees. As he asked questions she listened and decided that he was not only a man of adventure, but one of intelligence, and well educated if he had read Chaucer and Homer. He seemed impressed by all he saw, and afterwards she asked if he would care for some refreshments.
‘I would like that,’ he answered with a warm smile.
Later when they sat together, drinking wine and sharing a simple meal, she enquired after his latest adventures. So he regaled her with tales of Venice and Constantinople that held her enthralled. As he took his leave, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mistress Llewellyn, and I hope it will not be too long before we meet again.’
‘You are welcome to call in at any time and see how your journal is progressing. I’ve enjoyed your visit, Master Hurst, and pray that Sir Gawain will agree to your proposal,’ said Beth, seeing him out.
Once he had gone, she returned to what she was doing earlier, feeling all of a dither, wondering when she could expect Gawain.
Gawain stood in the doorway, watching Beth, who appeared completely absorbed in her task. There was no one else in the print room and for all he knew there was no one upstairs, either. What if he was their enemy? He or she could slit her throat in no time if they surprised her as they had done her father. The thought caused his blood to run cold and he realised just how much he cared for her. It was more than just a physical attraction or even the simple pleasure he found being in her company. If she were to die, then a light would go out of his life.
‘Beth,’ he called in a low voice.
Instantly she turned her head. Their eyes met and she saw something in his expression that caused her to rise from the stool and hurry towards him with her hands outstretched. He caught hold of them and drew her gently towards him. She rested her head against his chest. ‘I know we should not be doing this, but I am so pleased to see you,’ she said in a muffled voice.
‘I am glad to see you, too, but you should lock the doors when you are here alone,’ he chided. ‘What if it had not been me, but someone who meant you harm?’
She looked up at him. ‘But it is you and so I am not going to dwell on the worst that could happen to me when you hold me like this. You told me not to look on the dark side, but to have hope. What has brought you here? Was it Master Nicholas Hurst’s visit?’
‘So you have met him already?’
‘Aye.’
‘No, it was not his visit. I was already making ready to come when he arrived at the house.’ His eyes darkened and then he forced a smile. ‘What is your opinion of him?’
‘I like him,’ replied Beth, smiling. ‘Although I think at first he was not prepared to like me.’
‘No doubt you soon changed his mind,’ said Gawain, feeling a twinge of jealousy.
‘Aye, he wants to invest money in the business. I have told him he must discuss it with you.’
‘He would make you a good husband,’ blurted out Gawain.
A startled Beth said, ‘You’ve changed your mind! I thought you disapproved of him as a husband. Besides, I hardly know him and I have little in the way of a dowry. As well, I thought that you and I—’
‘I know. It is what I want, too, but what if—?’ Gawain could not understand why he felt compelled to ask, ‘What if you were to get to know him better and a dowry was of no importance to him?’
The colour rose in her cheeks. ‘Why do you persist in asking me such questions? Am I and my business such a burden to you that you would prefer it if another man would take us both on? Is it that after all you realise that you love Mary despite the way she has treated you?’
‘By St George, Beth, you are not a burden to me!’ protested Gawain. ‘It is that I do not wish to appear selfish. I want your happiness more than aught else in the world.’
‘Aught else?’ she asked swiftly, her heart leaping in her breast. ‘What about your children’s happiness? Is that not of more importance to you? And Mary—is she prepared to enter a nunnery? What did she have to say when you mentioned annulling your marriage? I mean … that is if you did speak of it to her.’
Gawain scowled. ‘Of course I spoke of it to her. She is far from pleased, but I have every intention in p
roceeding with my plan however long it takes.’
Beth said in a voice that shook, ‘Then I am prepared to be patient. Besides, I deem that Nick Hurst’s life of travel is a lonely one at times, so it is only fair that he has a woman who can give her heart and soul to him.’
‘You have already drawn such a conclusion after meeting him?’ said Gawain, feeling that twinge of jealousy again.
Beth nodded. ‘You are forgetting I have read his journal and as a woman I read between the lines. Now shall we not discuss Nick Hurst any further? How are your daughters? No doubt they were delighted to see you.’
His face softened. ‘I have brought the girls to London with me. They are with Aunt Catherine as I had no intention of leaving them with Mary in case she should hide them from me with a view to blackmail me into doing what she wishes.’ His expression was chilling. ‘I took them to an inn and Aunt Catherine is showing them London whilst you and I talk. Mary told me something unexpected in conversation. It appears that she knew Jonathan.’
Beth started. ‘What! How come? Tell me, what did she have to say about him?’
He took Beth’s hand and led her towards the settle. ‘Hardly anything, but she is holding something back. She says if I am kind to her then she will tell me what it is, but so far I am none the wiser despite my allowing her to stay under my roof.’ He kissed Beth’s quivering fingers and then released her hand. ‘What are your thoughts on that?’
‘She might have seen him at the boatyard when it still belonged to her father?’
‘Most likely, but who sent Jonathan there to have a boat built?’ said Gawain. ‘Did he ever mention having connections in Smallhythe?’
‘No, but let me think,’ said Beth, a difficult process when Gawain was sitting so close to her. ‘The only connection I can think of is Father Hugh, but if that is so, then why did he not send Jonathan to his brother James’s yard and give him the business?’
Gawain’s dark brows formed a deep V as he considered her words. ‘Perhaps he did, but for reasons of his own James sent him to my father-in-law,’ he said slowly.
‘I wonder what she knows that could be of help to your investigations,’ murmured Beth.
‘That is what I aim to find out,’ said Gawain.
He was silent for so long that Beth reached out and touched his face with a gentle hand. ‘Are you going to tell me what you are thinking?’
‘There are some things that a man should not speak of to a lady,’ he said, catching hold of her fingers and pressing them to his lips again before getting to his feet.
She looked up at him. ‘You will be careful!’
His face softened as he gazed down at her. ‘I’ll take care, but it is you who needs a bodyguard and I can’t be here for you.’
‘I have Sam,’ said Beth.
‘And where is Sam now?’
She pulled a face. ‘He can’t be here all the time, either.’
Gawain knew that to be true. ‘I will provide you with another bodyguard.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘And where will you get him from? You have need of Tom.’
He grinned. ‘You will see. In the meantime, I am hungry, so shall we go and dine at the inn where I left my aunt and my daughters?’
She did not need asking twice. She was looking forward to seeing Catherine again and the girls, too, although it would not do to get too fond of them just yet.
As it was, Gawain’s aunt and daughters were not to be found at the inn, so over their meal Beth and Gawain discussed the business and the rebuilding that needed to go ahead next door now that the charred remains of the shop and print room had been cleared. The oncoming winter might cause delays, but nevertheless, come next summer, hopefully all would be completed.
When they returned to the print room it was to find Nick Hurst there, talking to the master printer. He smiled as he caught sight of them. ‘I am glad I have not missed you both because I have received an urgent message from the captain whose ship I travelled on when I went to the New World and must visit him in Portsmouth.’
‘Does that mean you will be off on your travels again soon?’ asked Beth.
‘Possibly. It all depends on what he has to say.’ said Nick, his eyes warm as they rested on her face. ‘But I still wish to invest money in your business, Mistress Llewellyn.’
‘Oh, please, do call me Beth,’ she said, smiling up at him.
He cocked an eye in Gawain’s direction. ‘I believe I have to deal with you.’
Gawain was filled with conflicting emotions, but knew he must trust Beth as she must trust him. Even so he still hesitated about having Nick as a partner in the business. ‘Are you sure about this, Nick?’ he asked.
‘Aye,’ he said firmly.
‘Then I suppose I could take you to meet the lawyer and sort this matter out.’
As the two men headed for the door, Beth called, ‘Will I see you again, Gawain, before you return to Kent?’
‘Aye, after I have visited an old friend,’ he replied, turning and meeting her gaze. For a moment they stared at each other, then he left.
It was two hours later that Beth heard a commotion in the shop above the sound of the printing presses and, instantly fearing the worst, she reached for the blade she had taken to keeping nearby and crept towards the door. Before she could open it, she heard a dog barking and the next moment the door was pushed open and she saw a man wearing an eye patch with a huge hound straining at the leash.
‘Holy Mary, Mother of God!’ exclaimed Beth. ‘Who are you and why have you brought that monster on to my premises?’
‘He’s not a monster,’ said the man, looking affronted. ‘At least only to those whom I set him on. Sir Gawain sent me. Told me yer needed a protector.’
Beth stared at the dog from whose chest issued a low rumbling. ‘Am I to presume that it is the dog who is to be my bodyguard? For if that is so, then you’d best tell him that I am a friend, not a foe.’
The man snorted. ‘Of course, that goes without saying, Mistress Llewellyn. Although Sir Gawain sez that I’m to hang around for a while and make meself available if yer in need of a messenger or want someone followed.’
‘That is generous of him,’ said Beth, touched by Gawain’s thoughtfulness. ‘I presume you have a place you call home that you can return to when necessary?’
‘Of course! I have me Adam’s rib and she’d get real vexed if I didn’t turn up regular. Although, having said that, she understands the nature of me work so knows I have to put me clients first.’
Beth nodded. ‘I think you’d best put the monster in the yard for now or he might break something.’
‘Aye, I will, but yer’d best come with us so yer can make friends with him.’
Beth opened the door that led to the yard and he forced the dog through the opening and followed after them. ‘I presume the monster has a name,’ she said, watching the hound as it began to explore its surroundings.
‘Cerberus.’
Beth stared at him, finding it incredible that this man should know the name of the dog that guarded the entrance to Hades in Greek mythology. ‘How did you come by that name for him?’
‘Sir Gawain! He said that even as a puppy he was such a good guard dog that he deserved a name that was fitting.’
Beth smiled as all was made clear. ‘And what is your name?’
‘Benjamin,’ he replied.
‘Then, Benjamin, I suppose I will have to provide food for this monster of a guard dog.’
‘Sir Gawain has given me coin for some good red meat, although sometimes it’s best to leave him a bit hungry, but I wouldn’t say no to a jug of ale and some bread and cheese,’ he said, scratching his chin. ‘I gets peckish handling ol’ Cerberus here.’
‘Well, introduce me to him and then my employees will need to be made known to him, as well, as I do not want him tearing them apart,’ said Beth, hoping she would not find it too difficult handling this hound when his master was not around.
When Gawain r
eturned later in the day it was obvious that he and Cerberus were old friends and also that Benjamin felt easy in his company. She wondered how the two men had met; as if he had read her mind, Gawain told her that Benjamin had once worked for his father, but after his sudden tragic death, he left Kent and came to London to seek his fortune. Here he met a widow who was comfortably off and married her.
‘So presumably whenever you have need of someone tough and strong in London, you call upon him?’ asked Beth, smiling.
‘Aye, and in this case it is useful that he also remembers Father Hugh in his youth and reckons he would still recognise him. My main aim is your safety and happiness, Beth,’ Gawain said, his handsome face serious.
‘I know and I appreciate your concern,’ she murmured, thinking how much she wanted his love and companionship. ‘It has been a short visit.’
‘I felt I had to talk to you face-to-face.’
‘You will be careful!’ she burst out, reaching out a hand to him. ‘And let me know when you find out anything more?’
‘Of course!’ For a few precious moments he hugged her, then let her go and strode from the building.
Beth had the most horrid feeling that she might be seeing him for the last time and she wanted to run after him and tell him to stay. Then she told herself that she was being foolish. He knew to be on his guard and would have the good sense not to go out alone after dark. She wondered when she could expect to see him again.
The following week passed slowly and so did the next one. She heard naught from Gawain and wondered if he had spoken to Mary about Jonathan and if she had anything to say that was of help to him. No doubt he would have been careful about how he voiced his questions if he mentioned Father Hugh. She tried not to dwell on the thought of Gawain being at home with Mary. Beth was not sleeping well and had been feeling queasy lately and often she would lay awake, tortured by the thought that he might after all share a bed with Mary.
‘You have been with her, haven’t you?’ Mary had accused as soon as Gawain entered his hall. She stared at him, her nostrils flaring, her fair hair untidy about her black-clad shoulders.
