by K. E. Martin
Yet, she demanded, what choice did she truly have? She considered running away but could think of no place that would keep her safe from discovery by the powerful Woodvilles whose tentacles reached everywhere. Another possibility that occurred to her was to confide all in Fielding but even as she thought of it she knew it was hopeless. He would be bound to despise her for having agreed to murder Geoffrey and in any case he was not in a position to guarantee her safety from Plaincourt or Rivers.
For nearly a week, Blanche said, she had anguished over what course of action to take and then fate obligingly gave her an answer. Though generally poor, Geoffrey’s health had been stable enough since her arrival at the manor but suddenly his lung disease took a turn for the worse and he began to suffer most hideously. As she tended him she became convinced that his poor body would soon not be able to withstand much more and then he would die a natural death after all, thereby sparing her the dreadful crime she was sworn to commit. Yet Geoffrey’s will to live proved stronger than she had imagined and so he clung on, enduring the agonising pain that wracked his feeble body and rendered sleep impossible.
Watching the young lad’s dreadful suffering, Blanche was suddenly struck by the realisation that it would in truth be a kindness to release him from such misery, or so she claimed.
“I could not bear to see him in such horrible pain,” she told me, “so I started dosing his evening ale with poppy juice. This gave him several hours of blessed sleep and also furnished me with the chance to bind Fielding ever closer by giving him my body.”
“How could you?” I interrupted, shuddering slightly as I pictured Fielding’s terrible countenance in my mind.
“Keep your disgust in check, peacock!” she blazed at me. “It was not so very bad. Granted his face is ruined yet there is kindness in his eyes and his physique is well made.
“I was reluctant, I admit, yet he was gentle with me that first time and though it hurt it was no worse than I have heard it is for any maid. Thereafter our couplings were tolerable and even once or twice, I blush to say it, my body knew some pleasure. When he chewed the herbs I gave him to sweeten his breath and cleansed his hard body of sweat, he made an acceptable lover. Believe me or not as you will, Francis,” she finished, “but it was no great hardship for me to lie with Will Fielding.”
Though I found what she had just said unfathomable, I murmured a few conciliatory words that she might finish her confession with all speed.
Every night that she lay with Fielding she continued to put poppy juice into Geoffrey’s bedtime ale, increasing the dose every time so that his waking hours became gradually fewer. On the fifteenth or sixteenth night she mixed in a measure large enough to put him in a sleep from which she knew he would never awaken. For the first time she added some also to Fielding’s ale, giving him just enough to make him insensible. Judging the precise dose was something of an art, she informed me, showing a degree of pride in her skills that I found unbearable coming so soon after her confession that she had used them to murder an innocent.
Unaware of my revulsion, Blanche progressed with her story. When sufficient time had elapsed she had returned to the chamber and discovered Will slumped on his pallet at the foot of Geoffrey’s bed. In accordance with Plaincourt’s orders she had seized the heavy ale pitcher and struck Fielding on his head as hard as she could manage. Then, with great difficulty she had managed to topple his inert form onto the floor.
“The next part was the hardest,” she sobbed. “I knelt at Geoffrey’s bedside and checked that he was no longer breathing. When I saw that he had truly gone I knew I should feel overwhelmed by the wickedness of my deed yet I did not. It was beyond me to be sorry that he was dead; instead I rejoiced that his long suffering was over. If I mourned for anything it was for the part I had played in the affair for it is a hard thing to kill someone you love whatever the circumstances.
“I laid a kiss on his pale brow as I had done so many times before and said a quick prayer for his soul. Then, again following Stephen’s instructions I plucked a small feather from Geoffrey’s pillow and inserted it between his lips so that the merest tip was visible. The pillow I arranged at his side to look as if it had slipped from his face.”
This time I did not trouble to disguise my repugnance.
“You speak of love yet you slew the boy all the same!” I threw angrily at her. “I pray God spares me from such fond affection.”
At these words she raised her violet eyes to me and gave me a look of the deepest reproach.
“You cannot understand, Francis,” she moaned. “Geoffrey was in constant agony. Please, I implore you to believe me, I only did what I did to spare him further suffering. Yes, I came to Plaincourt intent on killing him but once I knew and loved him it was beyond me to do such a thing save for his own sake. I’ll swear it before God if you’ll let me.”
I wanted to believe her and indeed part of me did. Yet I could not forget what Jacquetta of Bedford had said of Blanche by her own account. I recalled the words with blinding clarity.
“I told you she would not cavil,” the old lady had said. “She has been well schooled, she knows in life one must grasp whatever opportunities appear.”
Had snuffing out Geoffrey’s life been an act of mercy, as she claimed, or had she in fact been grasping an opportunity too tempting to resist? It was not for me to decide; my job was to bring Blanche before my lord of Gloucester and let him be the judge and for that I was wholly thankful.
Aware that her confession was as yet incomplete, I urged Blanche to tell me now of Fielding’s release from imprisonment.
“Stephen had given me the key to Will’s cell and arranged to have a suitable horse saddled and waiting close by. I waited for darkness to fall and then made haste to free him. The poor fool did not question how I had been able to arrange these matters, so glad was he to see me. This was well, for had he but considered a moment he might have realised I could never remove a horse from the stables without anyone knowing of it.
“When I bid him be gone with all speed he dithered helplessly about where to go, leaving me no choice but to whisper Middleham to him. I had hoped to spare him this part of Stephen’s trap and would have done so if he had been able to think of another possible refuge. Alas, his wits were so dulled by the shock of all that had befallen him that he gave me no option but to follow the plan.
“I knew Stephen would send word to the justices that a known murderer was being harboured by the Duke of Gloucester, delaying just long enough to allow Will to arrive safely at the castle. It saddened me to be sending him to his fate but what else could I do?”
I realised with some amazement that once again Blanche was seeking to excuse her despicable actions.
“What else could you do? You could have admitted your part in the affair and told him to ride for his life,” I expostulated. “He is entirely innocent of Geoffrey’s murder yet you are happy to see him hang for it. Have you no remorse?”
I saw her temper flare then.
“Who are you to judge me?” she spat back at me. “You who have only ever known comfort and high living! Who knows what acts you might have found yourself committing if life had not been so kind?
“I told you I felt sad sending Will into a trap but no, I feel no remorse! After all, I gave him his freedom. He should have ridden to the coast and taken ship somewhere far away but the clod had not the sense to think of that, leaving it to me to tell him where he must go. Must I be blamed for his lack of wit?”
With a lurching heart I understood at last that Blanche’s perception of right and wrong was fatally twisted. Perhaps this crooked morality had always been in her nature yet I tended to believe otherwise. I was certain that some small root of goodness was embedded in her soul though it had failed to flourish in the poor soil of her Woodville upbringing. Sharing my master’s low opinion of the Queen’s kin, I could imagine all too readily the corrupting influence the old Dowager Duchess and her children would have brought to bear on the m
ind of a pretty and ambitious young girl.
Having grown to know and understand Blanche a little, my view was that in some ways she was as much to be pitied as poor Geoffrey yet I knew this was an opinion few would share. In any event, this was not the time to be dwelling on such questions. My priority now had to be to get her to Middleham without delay so that she might tell my lord of Gloucester her tale and bear witness against Plaincourt and Rivers. I would have a chance then to speak on her behalf, using what I knew of her circumstances to argue for leniency.
While I had been pondering these thoughts Blanche had subsided from her outburst and had taken the pigeon, now recovered and somewhat distressed, to the window. After releasing the bird she stood gazing out into the courtyard, twisting a sprig of dried lavender this way and that betwixt her fingers.
“After Fielding had fled, what did you then?” I asked her.
“There was naught left to be done save return to my chamber and wait for events to unfold,” she answered.
I thought of telling her that she had been observed by Cuckoo as she stole back through the darkness but decided not to interrupt her flow.
“I knew the hue and cry would be raised on the morrow and I prayed, truly I prayed, that Will would find the wit to change his course and ride instead for the coast. I’ll not deny that I also prayed most fervently the coming year would find me Lady of Plaincourt.”
“Were you then already afeared that your less than devoted betrothed would renege on his promise?”
“Mayhap a small matter,” she replied. “Were it not for my lord Rivers, I suspected Stephen would not hesitate to have me killed, so little eager is he for us to wed. And as you yourself have reason to know, having suffered at the hands of the bearded Tench brothers, he has loyal henchmen happy to obey his orders, however brutal. Yet at that time I remained confident that I was protected by the affection the Earl feels for me.
“Indeed, even now I am sure that my lord Rivers would be much loath to see me dead. But I also know that he is a great man with many pressing affairs to attend to and though he cares for my well-being, I fear it will not remain uppermost in his mind for long. Francis, once he has gone from Plaincourt I know it will be as you say, my life will stand in deepest peril.”
Chapter 13
Time to Leave
The dinner hour was upon us by the time Blanche had finished her story. Knowing that her absence would be remarked on if she stayed away from the hall, I told her she must dine as usual even though, with Plaincourt and Rivers away from the manor, she would have to face the common folk alone. At this she quailed and asked why would she be alone, would I not be with her, to which I replied vaguely that some other business demanded my attention. From her face I saw that she found this intelligence displeasing so I hastened to assure her that it would be the last meal she took at the manor.
“You and I will quit Plaincourt this day,” I told her, “but we must take care not to be seen leaving together lest we arouse suspicion. At dinner, let it be known that the minstrel has lost his appetite. All will imagine I am too craven to show my face in the hall without Lord Rivers to protect me. When the meal is done, keep to your chamber until dark. Then don all the warm clothing you have and make your way to the ruined hovel known as Old Lynet’s cottage. Do you know where I mean?”
She nodded her assent.
“I will meet you there,” I continued, “and then we will ride for Middleham.”
“Thank you, Francis,” she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to place a timid kiss on my cheek. “You are good to me, far better than I deserve.”
Once more my senses were assaulted by her nauseating rose perfume and I struggled to control the impulse to push her away. Cease this coquetry, I wanted to scream at her, your powers of seduction will avail you naught with me. Can you not see that I am immune to your charms? Instead, knowing such incivility was pointless, I smiled blandly and chivvied her from the room.
After she had gone I sat awhile in the still room, leaving what I judged enough time for her to reach the hall and take her place at the dais. Then I rose and went in search of Matthew.
To find him, of course, I would be obliged to enter the kitchen which was now unfriendly territory since I had managed to anger both Jem Flood and Cuckoo. Luck was with me, however, as neither were to be seen when I stepped warily into the room and I concluded that they must be occupied carrying dishes to the hall. Matthew was there, alone, but he at once informed me that Flood would be back presently and would likely give me a battering if he discovered me loitering within his domain.
In normal circumstances the likes of Jem Flood would not concern me. He was tough, I was tougher, that should have been an end to it. But these were not normal circumstances. I was recovering from a brutal attack and would be unable to bring my usual force and vigour to a fight for a good few days. Thus good sense recommended I should make myself scarce without delay but I still had urgent need of speech with Matthew.
“When they return you must find an excuse to slip away,” I told him peremptorily. “Join me at the fishpond as soon as you can.”
I turned and left before he could make an answer but I knew he would obey. I had unearthed plenty of corruption at Plaincourt Manor but I had also found a humble youth possessed of unexpected intelligence and rare humanity.
I had not been waiting long when Matthew arrived, rubbing his hands briskly against the raw chill of the day. I had chosen the fishpond as the location for our interview since I knew it to be well away from prying eyes, particularly when most of the manor folk would be at their dinner.
Without greeting the lad or waiting for him to speak I launched into an account of Blanche’s confession and my intention to carry her at once to Middleham, there to lay her tale before the Duke of Gloucester. Sharp as ever, Matthew deduced at once that she was not my real quarry.
“Thee dost need Mistress Blanche to stand against master and his mighty friend,” he commented.
“Correct,” I said shortly. “Now I am in need of your assistance. I hope you recall your promise to give it to me.”
The boy said nothing but nodded his acquiescence, whereupon I explained to him my plan. I told him that I intended to leave the manor immediately but it was essential I created the impression that I was simply venturing out for a ride. There must be no indication that I was leaving for good and therefore I could not be seen to leave with my possessions. Matthew, I said, must go in secret to my chamber and retrieve my things, most especially my lute.
“I have arranged to meet Mistress Blanche at Lynet’s hovel,” I explained to the lad. “Bring my things to me there and then get back here as quick as you can. I want no suspicion falling on you when we are found to be gone.”
There was excitement in his eyes as he readily agreed to all I asked. From the very first, his presence at Plaincourt as a willing accomplice to my investigation had rendered my task more pleasant. Thinking of this, I recalled my earlier private resolution to improve his lot somehow.
“You have my gratitude, Matthew,” I told him, “and when this sorry business is settled you will have more than that. I vow I will find a way to reward you. Now you’d best be about your business.”
He smiled and slipped away without another word.
I knew the next part of my plan should be easy enough to effect. There was no call for anyone to suspect I was about to flee the manor, especially as I would be riding out without my lute and saddlebag. Yet even if the thought should occur to the groom who made ready my hired rouncey, he would probably surmise that I was quitting through fear of sustaining another beating. My only difficulty would be if Lord Rivers had left instructions that I should not leave the manor unattended for my own protection.
With this thought in mind, I was moderately anxious as I hailed the stable lad and asked him to bring me my horse. He was alone, his comrades taking their dinner in the hall just as I had hoped.
“Thee beant leaving us, master?” the fellow en
quired. “I didst have a hankering to hear thee sing afore thee goes.”
I flapped my arms about me to indicate the absence of my lute.
“No, no,” I reassured him, “I have been asked by your master to bide here at Plaincourt over Yuletide and then I am to ride with Lord Rivers to London. He means to find a place for me at Court.”
I allowed a note of pride to creep into my voice and the lad’s eyes widened at my good fortune.
“For now,” I continued, “I simply wish for a refreshing ride to shake the cobwebs from my head.”
By now the rouncey was in the courtyard and it whickered softly as it recognised me. Again I noticed how much healthier it looked than when I had first encountered it at the tavern.
“For your trouble,” I said, tossing a handful of coins at the fellow. When I had thought to reward the stable lads before, I had stopped myself with the knowledge that such largesse would look strange coming from a down-at-heel minstrel. Now I reckoned that from one gleefully anticipating a lucrative new post at Court it would seem entirely appropriate.
As the lad bent to retrieve the coins from the ground I scrambled onto the rouncey’s back and cantered past the gatehouse, across the bridge and on into Plaincourt village. Few souls were about as I rode through the main thoroughfare and those that were there paid me no attention. Once beyond the limits of the village I checked the rouncey and turned its head in the direction of Lynet’s ruined cottage.
As I approached the hovel I looked carefully about me, checking that I was not observed, before following a densely vegetated track that led around the back of the property. What had once been a neatly tended garden was now a depressing wilderness. Dismounting, I tethered the horse to an overgrown apple tree and settled myself in readiness for a long wait in the most sheltered spot I could find, all the while cursing the ill-luck that had brought me on this mission in the midst of winter. A short nap would have suited me very well but I knew the chill air would make that impossible, though I would stay warm enough enfolded in the rabbity depths of my cloak.
