by June Francis
Edmund clicked his tongue and flicked the reins. The horse began to edge its way through scrub and scree down a barely discernible path. Trees grew thickly on either side. Felicia found herself thinking that there was something sinister about this place, or was it only because the sun had disappeared behind thickening cloud? She shivered as a chill wind blew.
‘If you’re cold, unfasten my cloak and put it about you.’
His words surprised her. She had not thought he was aware of her discomfort and hastened to unbuckle the straps that held the cloak. There came an unexpected snarling that seemed to rumble on, and she felt her stomach flip over. She had heard the sound only once before, and it had cost her the life of a favourite hunting dog. As the horse reared, she snatched desperately at a fold of the cloak as she began to slide backwards, even as Edmund fought for control of his frightened steed. The wolf crouched over a dead hare, and its rough grey-black fur stood up about its neck with ears pricked, and its lips pulled back in a grimace that showed yellow fangs.
As Edmund brought the horse down hard and over to the right, Felicia slid forward again, jolting hard against his back. The horse pranced nervously, tossing its head and whinnying. She heard the rasp of metal as Edmund unsheathed his sword. The wolf made a sudden movement towards them, and leapt. Edmund twisted in the saddle to face it. Felicia had no opportunity to see what happened next, for the horse gave vent to its terror and started to race downhill. She was bounced about on its rump, clinging desperately to the straps about the cloak.
Edmund fought for control, and hoped she would not fall. Trees flashed by dizzily as they approached a bend, tearing round a stand of trees at an incredible speed. Felicia felt the straps sliding through her fingers and frantically she searched for a safer hold, but the cloak came away in her hand and she went tumbling from the horse. She landed on her back and lay gasping, staring blankly at the clouded sky. There came the sound of running feet, then the sky was blotted out, and concerned grey eyes gazed into hers. She tried to speak.
‘Save your breath.’ Edmund ran a hand over the back of her head. ‘You are fortunate indeed, Mistress Meriet.’ There was a barely perceptible quiver in his voice. ‘Don’t try to move.’
Felicia let out a reluctant laugh. ‘You jest!’
He began to pull at her veil, tearing it in an attempt to unhook it from numerous thorns. Growling in exasperation, he eased it from her head and left it pinned to the brambles, then he took her arms and ruthlessly dragged her out of the blackberry bush, tearing her linen surcote as he did so. She rested on his braced arms. Then her face drained of colour and she crumpled against him. He swore. His words seemed to come from a long way off as she fought to stay conscious. She was aware of his arms holding her as waves of ice-cold sickness swept over her.
‘Take deep slow breaths,’ he commanded.
She obeyed, and gradually the world began to take on form again. She could hear the wind in the trees and feel its coolness but more than anything she was conscious of his hand caressing the nape of her neck in a gently soothing manner. She found herself relaxing, and had no wish at that moment to move away from the security of his arms. She could hear his heart beating rapidly beneath her ear, and a seam on his surcote dented her cheek. A surge of excitement stretched tingling fingers along her nerves. She brushed her body against his with an uncalculated allurement and moved her head into a more comfortable position and sighed.
Perhaps there was something in the sound that told him that she was recovering from her swoon. His fingers stilled, and there came a tug on one of her dark braids, which compelled her to lift her head. His eyes, the grey of wood-smoke, flicked into a sharp awareness, which seemed to reach out and touch her, causing an answering stir of emotion. His hands moved restlessly the length of her back, coming to rest on her hips.
In that moment Edmund found it difficult to resist the temptation to kiss her. There was an expression in her face that drew him, making him forget his suspicions concerning her morality. She was warm and pliable beneath his hands. He half lowered his head, then suddenly he was aware once more of the cut on her face, the slightly swollen mouth, and of how she had come by them. Had this tug of attraction he felt been the same as that which had caused her cousin to kill his wife? Edmund’s mouth tightened and the smoky eyes became charcoal. The moment passed; then the light died in her eyes and as his arms slackened she withdrew from him.
Felicia made to pick up the fallen cloak, and gave a cry.
‘What is it?’ Edmund whirled round towards her.
‘Nothing!’ she gasped.
‘Nonsense!’ He saw the agony in her eyes, and noted her awkward stance and then glanced at the threatening sky. ‘I’m sorry, but we shall have to ride on.’ He gave a piercing whistle. ‘You will go up before me so I can support you better.’
As he lifted her onto the horse, she gritted her teeth as pain shot up her spine. Her hands clutched the horse’s mane, and she watched Edmund pick up the cloak and swing it about his shoulders. He climbed up behind her, easing himself as close as possible before wrapping the cloak about her and clamping an arm about her waist. The act sent a thrill through her causing her to shiver.
Aware of her reaction, he murmured against her hair, ‘There is no need for you to fear. I cannot ravage you on horseback. Relax! We still have some way to go.’
The first jolt of movement shuddered up her spine. ‘Our destination?’ she gasped.
‘Shrewsbury.’ His breath fluttered a curl on her brow. ‘I would not choose to take you there, but I have friends who will give us shelter and not ask too many questions.’
‘They must be friends indeed, if you can arrive, unannounced, with a strange woman. Won’t they deem it odd?’
‘Whatever they think, they will at least pretend to believe what I tell them.’
Felicia fell silent. His actions confused her. If he wished to make her cousin suffer, surely he should have sent a message to let Philip know that he had her in his power?
It did not take them long to descend to the valley, but then they travelled for painful hour upon hour. It was well into evening when they came to a mere, which swiftly spotted as it began to rain. Edmund pulled up his horse, and they eased aching backs and shoulders, gazing at the stretch of water with its fringe of rustling reeds and water iris.
‘It is said to be bottomless,’ he murmured.
Felicia was suddenly filled with trepidation. ‘You—You are not thinking of throwing me in, are you? For I tell you now that I can swim.’
‘Throw you in? I have no desire to drown you, Mistress Meriet. Although, perhaps it would suit you to join the sirens that are believed to live in this mere?’ he said in a mocking voice.
‘Sirens?’ Felicia gazed at the grey surface curiously.
‘They are said to lure fishermen to their doom with their beauty and song.’
She twisted with difficulty and glared at him. ‘I do not like your talk of sirens in connection with me. I deem they are a kind of wanton and so you insult me!’ she said heatedly. ‘I command you to set me free so that I can go home to Meriet!’
He scowled and his grip on her tightened, so that she could scarcely breathe. ‘We go south in search of that justice you talked about, woman,’ he said brusquely.
‘What kind of justice?’ she cried fearfully, attempting to slacken his hold my digging her fingers into his arm. ‘I am not the woman you believe me to be!’
‘So you say!’ Edmund wanted to believe her but was still wracked with uncertainty. ‘Only time will reveal whether you are telling me the truth or not,’ he said harshly, removing her hand from his arm and urging his mount on.
They travelled on in silence until the clouds in the west tinged with orange and silver. Then Felicia’s curiosity which had been growing got the better of her. ‘Should I not know more about your background and that of your friends if I am to be introduced to them?’ she blurted out.
He hesitated. ‘We are going to the home
of Richard Mortimer, wool merchant. His sister Nell Seisdon lives with him. She is recently widowed, and has a young son, Harry. I shall tell them that you are the daughter of an old friend of my mother and that I am escorting you to your home before continuing south.’
‘But how did we meet and why should I be in need of your escort. How will you explain my lack of baggage?’ Felicia asked in honeyed tones.
He gave an exasperated snort. ‘I shall think of something. Now be quiet if I am to come up with answers for my friends.’
‘But you have not told me anything about yourself,’ she protested. ‘You said you were kin to Sir Gervaise. If that was so, should you and your mother not have lived in the castle.’
He hesitated. ‘My mother and my lord’s wife did not always agree, so, my—Sir Gervaise deemed it wiser that they occupied separate dwellings.’ His words were true enough, but they did not begin to explain the relationship between his mother and Sir Gervaise. ‘As for myself, I have come from Chester. Although over the past year or so, I have spent time in Italy and the East hoping to improve my understanding of the ills that plague mankind.’ He paused and added softly, ‘That information will suffice for now.’
His words puzzled her. What was he? Could he possibly be a physician or a philosopher? She wondered but refrained from asking such a question. There were physicians who were mountebanks and he might be insulted.
Soon they were crossing a loop of the Severn, hearing the swift surge of rushing water beneath the bridge. Green lush meadows lay either side of the road and not far ahead lay the walls of Shrewsbury. The turrets of the castle showed grey and misty in the twilight and it was a relief to pass through the gates into the town.
Felicia attempted to straighten her aching back, pushing aside also the wet tendrils of hair that fell into her eyes. They passed along a narrow street with upper storeys close overhead on either side. She jumped as a cat darted from beneath the horse’s hooves and melted into the shadows, its eyes gleaming amber, the only sign of life in the gloom. The scent of wood-smoke, rotting offal and vegetation came to her nostrils. At last they came to the market square and halted outside a large house. The shutters were all fastened, but a sliver of pale yellow light filtered through a crack to the right of the door.
Edmund dismounted and strode up to the entrance and banged on the door. Felicia glanced about her, half-expecting shutters to fly open as the noise vibrated around the square. She had a sense of being watched. He hammered on the door again and, after several moments, it opened and a man stood there. Holding a candle in one hand and a staff clasped tightly in the other, he asked in a deep musical voice, ‘Who is it that comes disturbing the peace at this time of even?’
Edmund threw back his hood. ‘Do you not recognise me, Dickon?’
‘By all that is holy—Edmund!’ The man let out a delighted laugh. ‘I did not think to see you until the fair in July.’ The two men, who were much of a height, clasped each other’s shoulders. ‘How did you fare on your travels? It is good to see you.’
‘It is a long tale, and one best told over a cup of ale—and a meal. Can you provide shelter to two poor drenched travellers, Dickon?’
‘Two?’ Dickon’s eyes lifted to the huddled and bedraggled figure sitting upon the horse. ‘Good God! A lady?’ He cocked a curious glance at Edmund. ‘Here is a tale indeed! I don’t know what Nell will say. And, speaking of Nell ...’ They both turned as the pit-patter of feet sounded just inside the doorway.
‘Who is it?’ demanded a sharp voice. ‘I was about to retire for the night.’
Felicia lifted her head and peered at the woman standing on the threshold. She was tall, and her unbraided hair fell in long rippling waves.
‘It is Edmund.’ Dickon turned towards his sister. ‘Nell...’ he began, but he never finished.
Nell swooped on Edmund, holding out both her hands. ‘Edmund! We have missed you so! Come in! Come in!’ She grasped his hands tightly.
He raised her hands to his mouth, and kissed each one in turn. ‘How are you and the boy, Nell?’
Felicia gazed dully at them both and envy stirred inside her. Then she released her grip on the horse’s mane and slithered to the ground. Searing pain shot up her legs and back as her feet slid from beneath her and she collapsed on the wet cobbles.
Edmund whirled round and knelt beside her. ‘You should have waited for me to help you!’ he said, sounding exasperated. He ran a hand carefully over her lower limbs and she was shocked by the sweet agony his touch caused her. ‘I deem you have not broken any bones but this extra fall is bound to cause us more delay.’
‘I would not be in this condition if it were not for you!’ she whispered, near to tears.
‘You would rather I’d left you warming your cousin’s bed?’ he rasped.
Felicia flinched. ‘Remove your hands before I shout to the heavens that you are an abductor!’ she hissed.
‘Don’t be a fool! You need me right now, my fine lady!’
Determined to prove him wrong, she began to push herself up from the ground. She tossed him a grim little smile and took a step, only to whimper in agony. Immediately he slid his arms around her and swung her up against his chest. Suddenly she was aware of the other woman’s eyes upon her and the angry words she had been about to say died on her lips and she found herself clinging to him. ‘Dear Edmund, what would I do without you?’ she murmured against his neck. Aware of his startled look, she felt an unexpected bubble of laughter tickled her throat as a quiver went through him.
‘Who is she, Edmund?’ Nell’s voice held a touch of pique. ‘I know that you are set on helping the poor and needy but never have you brought a woman to us before!’
‘I shall explain later, Nell,’ he muttered. ‘Now may we come in out of the rain?’
She nodded. ‘But leave your cloak just inside the doorway; it is dripping wet.’
‘He will have a job taking it off, himself, Nell, for his arms are rather full!’ drawled Dickon, helping his friend off with his cloak and slanting Felicia a curious glance. She felt the colour rise in her cheeks and was relieved when he went over to the horse and led it away. Extremely conscious of her dishevelled state and the bruise and cut on her face as Nell’s cool eyes surveyed her, Felicia was tempted to bury her face against Edmund’s shoulder but pride kept her chin up and she returned the other woman’s regard haughtily.
‘Edmund, I can’t wait! Who is she and how did you meet her? She looks like a drowned cat!’ said Nell.
Felicia managed to bite back the words that sprang to her lips. As Edmund spoke in a slightly conciliatory voice she had to admire his resourcefulness. Except for the episode concerning the wolf and her falling from the horse the rest of what he said was untrue. She would not have thought he possessed so much imagination and she wondered what Nell would think of him if she knew the true story.
All the time Edmund was explaining, the pair of them were dripping water over the floor, and now Felicia decided enough was enough because she was tired, in pain and soaking wet. ‘I must apologise for dripping all over your, floor, Mistress Seisdon,’ she gushed. ‘Please, forgive me. I deem Edmund has given no thought to the mess we are causing. If you can direct me to a bedchamber I will be out of your way.’
Nell frowned. ‘I do not have a spare bedchamber for you. You will have to be content to share my bed. I must add that my son, Harry, also sleeps in a truckle bed in my chamber.’
Felicia was filled with dismay. What sleep with this woman who so obviously disapproved of her? ‘If you would prefer it, Mistress Seisdon. I could go to the lodging hall at the abbey. My father knew the abbot well, and I would not like to inconvenience you.’
‘No, you cannot go to the abbey,’ said Edmund hastily, scowling at her. ‘I have no intention of taking you out in the rain again after hours on horseback. Besides you’d have to sleep in a cell and the hard bed would do your back no good at all.’
‘Of course, in that case she will have to stay here,’
said Nell, sighing. ‘I’m sure we’ll manage somehow.’
Felicia felt Edmund’s arms tighten about her, and the look he gave her contained a hint of warning. ‘Then I accept your offer with gratitude,’ she said politely.
‘I shall take you up now and find you something to wear. It is unfortunate that your baggage-horse should have bolted when you were attacked by the outlaws,’ said Nell.
Felicia darted a glance at Edmund and saw a muscle twitch in his cheek. An imp of mischief caused her to say, ‘How many outlaws were there now, Edmund? Four or six? And you and my groom fought them off so bravely. It was a pity we had to leave Edgar behind to have his wounds tended.’ She bit back a scream as he pinched her side.
‘A very great pity! But that is enough of my courage!’ said Edmund through gritted teeth. ‘I shall carry you to the bedchamber and leave you in Nell’s capable hands.’ He smiled warmly at the other woman. ‘Lead the way, my dear.’
They left the candlelit hall at its rear, passing into a narrow passage and thence through a door that led outside. Felicia could smell the sweet damp odour of rain-sodden roses. A flight of wooden steps led upward at the back of the house and as Edmund carried her up their slippery treads, she had no choice but to cling to him, glad of the warmth that emanated from his body despite the dampness of their garments.
Nell opened a door into a vacant chamber. They passed through it and then through another door at the far end, where she stood aside for them to enter. There stood two beds. In the smaller lower one could clearly be seen the huddled shape of a sleeping child. ‘My son,’ she murmured, touching the curls that were all that showed above the bedcovers. ‘We must take care not to wake him.’ She turned worried brown eyes on Edmund. ‘He has had the fever, and still tires easily.’
