by June Francis
‘I received that from a charging boar during a hunt with my Flemish kin,’ said Nicholas, a hint of breathlessness in his voice. ‘I was fortunate to escape being disembowelled.’
She shuddered. ‘I’ve never been on a hunt.’
‘It’s not a sport for women, although Louise—’ He stopped.
‘Although Louise hunted—is that what you were going to say?’ Jane pressed her lips together as she carried on tending his wound.
‘Aye.’ He hesitated before adding, ‘She was a veritable Diana, foolishly so.’
Was Nicholas actually making a criticism of that woman? She dabbed his skin dry, longing to ask what Louise had done that he considered stupid, but thought it wiser not to refer to her again. Instead she asked, ‘Who’s Diana?’
‘A mythical goddess of the hunt. She was the sister of Apollo, a god of healing amongst other things.’
Jane frowned. ‘Apollo I have heard of because my husband, Simon, had a fondness for pagan male statuary. There were several such he sculptured himself in the garden of the house at Oxford. I admit I did not approve, considering them unsuitable for a home in which there were young girls. But they fetched a fair price after he died and so I was appreciative of his skill as a stonemason and sculptor. The girls likened the face of one of them to your brother Philip.’
‘I have to admit that Pip is the handsomest of the three of us Hurst brothers,’ said Nicholas, putting a hand to his injured shoulder.
‘Please, don’t do that,’ said Jane, removing his hand and inspecting it before placing it on his chest. ‘You are not so bad-looking,’ she added, a hint of humour in her voice as she continued her task. ‘And is it not better that a person is good inside than just fair of face? Not that I would dispute your brother’s generosity and kindness to people,’ she added hastily. ‘I was glad when he married Rebecca, although I miss her company still. It’s not at all the same sharing a house with just the children.’ She began to apply the salve which she had made using the boiled stinging nettles and then covered the wound with a clean rag and bound it.
‘I have a widowed aunt who might suit you if it’s a woman’s companionship you want and not a husband’s?’ he teased.
‘Really, Nicholas, I would find my own female companion if that was what I needed.’ Her fingers quivered as she finished bandaging his shoulder. ‘Now I must have a look at your head.’
Once that was done, she reached for the shirt she had taken from his saddlebag. As she helped Nicholas on with it, he caught hold of her hand and, lifting it to his lips, kissed it. ‘You’re a good woman, Jane.’
She coloured and snatched her hand away. ‘I told you that you don’t really know me.’
‘Help me to know you better,’ he said seriously. ‘What is it you think I need to know?’
Jane stared at him and still hesitated to tell him what so bothered her. Her heart raced and she felt quite sick at the thought of how he might react. Then she knew what to say. ‘I once hit a man with a hoe, but I learnt my lesson and was careful not to give way to my anger to that extent ever again.’
He was astounded. ‘Who was he?’
‘No one you will have heard of. He was a bully and a cheat. I vowed never to be deprived of my freedom again.’
‘You were locked up?’
‘He lied about me on more than one occasion and men in power are more likely to believe other men than women.’
Nicholas swore softly, wanting to meet this man. ‘Is he still alive?’
She smiled. ‘No, fortunately I was not the only one who despised him. He came to a sticky end—he was stung to death by bees when he would have stolen honey from a beekeeper’s hives.’ She moved away from the bed. ‘Now you must rest. I will bring you up some food soon.’
He leaned back against the pillow. ‘I would that you would tell me more of your story, Jane. As for you ever losing your freedom again, I vow it will never happen.’
‘I would rather that you vowed if aught were to happen to me, then you would make certain the children were kept safe from such men.’
‘I swear I would do all that is in my power to ensure their safety and their freedom. And I will keep my word even if you decide not to marry me, but I think you will despite being far too good for an adventurous wanderer like me.’
Jane felt almost swamped with guilt, but still she could not speak of that which she was ashamed. ‘I have told you that I am no saint!’
‘In that case we shouldn’t fare too badly.’
The intensity of his gaze caused an aching sensation in her gut and she longed to throw herself on him and be held tightly in his arms. ‘I must go,’ she muttered.
‘I will not keep you,’ he said.
She thought he sounded disappointed, so she kept her eyes down as she gathered the soiled cloth and bindings as well as the shirt she had cut and hurried from the bedchamber.
There was no sign of the girls or James in the room below and only Nicholas’s daughter lay sleeping in the cradle. At least she was not a crier, thought Jane, gazing down at the child for a moment. Then she went over to the fire and dropped the soiled materials into its glowing heart.
She stood there, thinking over what had taken place upstairs. She really would be a fool not to marry him. He need never know the whole truth about her past. She had to do what was best for the children. No doubt they would soon become accustomed to living by the sea and they liked and admired him.
Suddenly she became aware of singing and realised it was coming from the workroom. She opened the door and saw that it was Elizabeth who was sitting at the spinning wheel. Jane was reminded of her younger self and how her mother had told her that a similar instrument had replaced the earlier method of hand spinning with a spindle.
It was her father, though, who had described how the first stage in mechanising the process had been to mount the spindle horizontally so it could be rotated by a cord encircling a large, hand-driven wheel. She had been fascinated because before then he had seldom bothered explaining anything to her. His interest in her had been brief. After the sudden death of her older brother, who was to follow in his footsteps, her father had changed and it had been her mother who had shown her how the fibre was held in the left hand at a slight angle to the spindle to produce the necessary twist whilst the wheel was slowly turned using the right hand. The spun yarn was then wound on to the spindle.
As Jane watched Elizabeth, she thought how, despite her youth, she was more skilful at spinning than Margaret.
The back door opened and Willem entered. He winked at Jane, but she did not smile, her eyes darkening as she remembered the pain and shame she had suffered because of her weakness where he was involved.
‘What are you doing back here?’ she demanded. ‘I have not given you permission to come and go as you please in my house.’
He looked pained. ‘Don’t take offence, Jane. I only came to see how Master Hurst is.’
She did not believe him, convinced he was out to cause trouble for her because she had turned him down. ‘He is well enough,’ she said. ‘Now you can go.’
He did not move. ‘Your stepdaughter has a definite skill when it comes to spinning. It is a pity she is so young,’ he said. ‘Although she’s not going to win any prizes for her singing.’
Jane sprang to Elizabeth’s defence. ‘She sings well enough to please me. It is a sign that her spirits are recovering. These last few months have been difficult for her. What with her father’s sudden death and us having to make the move here, I think she has done extremely well.’ She paused, suddenly remembering the package that he had opened. ‘Anyway, why are you back here so soon? Is it for the package you left on the table?’ she asked with an air of innocence.
His eyes flickered over her face. ‘What package?’
She had seen that expression of his before and wondered what falsehood he would come up with.
He surprised her by saying abruptly, ‘I was curious. I deem it belongs to Master Hurst.’<
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She nodded. ‘Most likely. Is that why you’re here? You want to ask him about the contents?’
‘No, I would like to practise on your loom,’ he said, placing a hand on its wood and stroking it. Then he immediately changed the subject. ‘Do you think Master Hurst will stay in bed?’
‘I am determined he will, at least for the next few days.’
Willem’s expression was almost comical in its disbelief. ‘Don’t be a lackwit, woman. He’ll be up and about within the day unless you tie him to the bed.’
She stiffened. ‘You speak of him as if you’re someone who knows him well.’
‘He is famed for being an explorer. He hasn’t achieved his success by a woman insisting that he stays put.’
She glared at him. ‘He says that he has had enough of roaming and wishes to settle in England.’
‘And you believe him?’
‘I deem he is a man to be trusted,’ she said, exasperated. ‘Now I must see what the other children are doing before I repair Nicholas’s shirt.’
Willem seized her by the shoulder as she would have passed him. ‘Don’t be angry with me, Jane. I’m pleased for you. I don’t blame you for wanting to marry him, but I wish you would marry me instead.’
So was that why he had returned—to try to persuade her? ‘My answer is still no,’ she said firmly. ‘Now let me go.’
She glanced at Elizabeth, but all of the girl’s attention seemed to be on her work, so perhaps the noise of the spinning wheel meant she had not heard them. When he did not release her, she wrenched herself free and told him to leave. She did not wait to see what he did, but hurried outside where she found Margaret with Simon tied to her back with a length of cloth. The girl was cutting spring greens and as for James, he was chasing one of the chickens with an axe. She was horrified. ‘What are you doing, James?’ she called, hurrying after him.
‘Are we not having a feast today, Mama?’ he panted.
‘I had not planned on it.’
‘Master Godar said what Master Hurst needs to build up his strength is some good chicken broth,’ called Margaret. ‘And I remember Papa saying that it was excellent for sick people.’
‘That is true, but I had planned to wait until Easter day before killing a chicken,’ said Jane, exasperated.
The children’s faces fell. ‘But it would do Master Hurst so much good. Please, Mama, I am so tired of barley or pease broth or salted and smoked fish,’ pleaded Margaret. ‘Master Godar said that he’d enjoy tasting meat again, too.’
‘I would like to wring Master Godar’s neck,’ said Jane savagely, snatching the axe from her son. ‘Anyway, he is not invited and will be eating at the inn.’
She walked over to the woodpile and left the axe there. Perhaps some chicken broth would do them all good? It would certainly put strength into Nicholas, but she could have done without Willem Godar putting thoughts into the children’s heads and making himself at home here. She must tell Nicholas the whole truth about what had once been between her and Willem. She would not put it past the weaver to do so himself. In the meantime she would deal with the hen herself and prepare a broth. Then she would visit the alewife and Anna whilst Nicholas rested.
* * *
As soon as Jane finished plucking and drawing the chicken, she prepared it for the pot and added vegetables and the last of the elderberry wine she had made the autumn before last. To her relief there had been no sign of Willem on entering the house.
She decided to take the children with her and went to Anna’s first. She asked Anna’s husband if he could get a message to the constable for Master Hurst, then spoke to Anna briefly of Willem’s return and of his offer to be her weaver, but said that she would not be taking up his offer. She was relieved that Anna had never known how far hers and Willem’s relationship had gone. Then, whilst Anna fed Simon and Matilda, Jane visited the alewife.
* * *
On her return, Anna brought up the subject of Willem, asking Jane did she know what his plans were in the light of her turning him down.
Jane hesitated. ‘He would like to stay here in Witney. He is a widower now with four sons. Perhaps I should tell you that Master Hurst has asked me to marry him.’
‘I thought he might,’ said Anna smugly.
Jane frowned. ‘I know what you are thinking. A marriage between us would be very convenient.’ She sighed. ‘I must go and see how he fares and I will see you later.’
She hurried home, leaving the girls and James playing outside with some of the neighbouring children. She placed Simon in his cradle and tucked Matilda in alongside him. She stirred the chicken broth and then prepared a tray with some bread and cheese, an apple and a cup of freshly brewed ale. At the last moment, on impulse, she picked up a length of rope and placed it over her shoulder and then she went up to Nicholas.
To her dismay she found him standing by the window, gazing over the High Street. She slammed down the tray. ‘What are you doing, Nicholas! Have you lost your wits? You should be in bed!’ She hesitated before sliding the rope from her shoulder.
Nicholas whirled round and stared at Jane. ‘Why do you have a rope?’
‘Willem Godar said I wouldn’t be able to keep you in bed without tying you down and he was obviously right,’ she snapped.
His expression altered. ‘He is mistaken, Jane, but I would happily be your prisoner.’
Her eyes glinted. ‘You say that because you are convinced I will not tie you to the bed.’ She twirled the rope that the girls sometimes used for a skipping game between her hands.
He frowned. ‘This is a jest, of course, but I’m willing to submit if you want to play games, but perhaps we should wait until we are wed. I still wait a definite answer from you.’
Chapter Six
She dropped the rope on the bed. ‘No doubt you will expect me always to be a dutiful wife.’
‘It would save us many an argument, don’t you think? Although I am a reasonable man and would listen to your opinion on certain matters if it differs from mine. I cannot say fairer than that, do you agree?’
‘I would not argue with you,’ she said, smiling faintly. ‘But allow me a little longer to come to a decision.’
He agreed and changed the subject. ‘I noticed you returning. Did you get all you needed?’
‘Aye. I also spoke to Anna’s husband and asked him to get a message to the constable.’
‘My thanks—if the constable is the same man I dealt with last autumn, then I deem him a man of sense. Neither of us was satisfied with the punishment meted out to Tomas Vives, who would have stabbed me in the back.’
‘But isn’t he under house arrest?’
‘Supposedly, but he has friends in high places,’ said Nicholas, returning to the bed and stretching out on the mattress. ‘Whilst I was looking out of the window I thought I saw him, but I could be mistaken. The glass in the window here is of a poor quality.’
‘I know it is too thick and contains bubbles,’ said Jane, looking worried, none the less. She went over to the window and peered out. ‘If it was him, do you think he had anything to do with this latest attack on you?’
Nicholas reached for the ale and took a mouthful. ‘Possibly, although how would he know I was here? Unless word reached him that I had been seen in Cardinal Wolsey’s house and had brought news of the Holy Roman Emperor, who is also the King of Spain. He could have sent a message to his uncle, who is a tutor at one of the colleges in Oxford and has the ear of Queen Katherine. He helped Princess Mary with her studies. Did you ever meet Vives, Jane?’
‘Aye, when he visited Oxford last year with Rebecca’s brother, both being members of the Princess’s court. They had escorted Rebecca home after a visit to Ludlow where Mary was lodging at the time.’
Nicholas bit into a slice of bread and cheese. ‘I must get a message to Pip and see what he can discover about Vives.’
‘How?’
‘Maybe Master Godar would be willing to do me a favour if I paid him en
ough?’ Nicholas said casually, even as he stared at her intently.
Jane hesitated before responding, thinking the less the two men saw of each other the better. ‘You cannot trust him. Besides, he is not in the house. You would be better sending for Matt.’
Nicholas stared at her from narrowed eyes. ‘Why can’t I trust him? Will you explain yourself? After all, if Sir Gawain trusted him enough to send him here, why shouldn’t I use him? What do you know about him, Jane, that Sir Gawain doesn’t?’
Her heart began to beat heavily in that uncomfortable fashion at the sheer thought of pouring out the truth to him and she felt sick. She could not do it, but she had to tell Nicholas something. Then she remembered what her stepdaughter had told her and clicked her tongue against her teeth. ‘I have just remembered. Did you not leave a package downstairs?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Aye, why do you ask?’
‘The seal has been broken and my stepdaughter said that Willem was inspecting its contents.’
Nicholas’s mouth tightened. ‘I see. Would you bring the package to me now, Jane?’
‘Certainly.’ She hesitated. ‘What of Vives? If it is he you saw, would you like me to see if I can find him?’
‘No. Unless he calls here I’d rather he didn’t know that we are aware of his presence.’
She chewed on her lip. ‘This package of yours...?’
His gaze locked with hers. ‘You want to know what it contains?’
Jane flushed. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’
He smiled faintly. ‘No, but I don’t mind you knowing. It contains a legal document I had my lawyer draw up before I left London regarding Simon. There is also a plan of a ship which I have designed.’
‘Oh.’ She decided not to ask what was written on the legal document, hazarding a guess that Nicholas had made some kind of financial provision for Simon. His thoughtfulness touched and pleased her.
