‘I am to be married soon,’ I said. I wanted him to know I wasn’t ordinary in the slightest.
‘Of course you are.’ He sounded as if he couldn’t care less if I was to marry or not.
‘It will be a very grand marriage.’
‘Of course it will. What else would the family of a girl like you expect but a grand marriage?’
I felt irritated. I wanted him to acknowledge my importance.
‘I shall doubtless have a title.’
‘Doubtless.’
‘And a vast wardrobe.’
‘Most certainly a very vast wardrobe.’
‘And my betrothed will shower me with gifts and jewels.’
He nodded his head sagely. ‘A prince’s ransom in jewels.’
I felt he was making fun of me and I didn’t know why.
By now we had arrived in the square where the crowds had gathered round the fire. After the events of last summer it was rather frightening to be so close to a wild, uncontrolled blaze which might come roaring towards us. I stepped nearer to Master Holand so that my skirts touched the top of his boots and my sleeve brushed against the dark brown cloth of his jacket.
‘Don’t be frightened,’ he said. ‘We’re perfectly safe.’
‘I’m not frightened. Why would I be frightened?’
A roar erupted from the crowd as a bough of winter greenery was flung onto the blaze and flames leapt up into the night sky in a shower of bright red sparks. The woman next to me pushed sideways and I clutched at Master Holand’s arm to prevent myself from falling.
‘If you climb up here, my lady,’ he said. ‘You’ll be safer and get a better view.’
He guided me to a set of steps leading up the side of what looked like the sort of warehouse where my cousin might store his wool. There were no windows, just huge doors. I climbed up part way. The steps were rather steep and, I thought, not very safe.
‘Will you catch me if I should fall?’
He looked up into my face where I stood perched two steps above him. ‘Yes, my lady. If you fall, I’ll catch you. But if I were you I’d keep a tight hold of the rail.’
Just at that moment, the sound of his voice, the roar of the flames and the acrid smell of the smoke, brought everything back. It had been summer then and I’d been young and foolish and thought my mighty cousin might care for me, now it was winter and I was older and wiser and knew better. My cousin loved me, but not enough. What he wanted and what the king’s mother wanted, would always come first. His alliances and his treaties and her desires mattered more. He would send me away to marry the old man, to be shut away in one of his castles and never see my family again. Edward and Isabella would quickly forget and Alice and Margaret would be lost to me forever.
I wondered if that was what had happened to my father. The king had loved him too, but just not enough.
On the other side of the bonfire some men started singing and soon everyone was swaying from side to side. I didn’t understand the words but thought they were probably rude judging by the gales of laughter. Small children darted in and out of the crowd, dodging as close to the flames as they dared and one old woman bent over, lifted her skirts and wiggled her buttocks, much to the crowd’s delight.
‘I think it is time we went, my lady.’ The voice came from by my feet. ‘It’s getting late.’
I held onto the rickety rail and climbed down the steps one at a time, being careful where I placed my boots. When I reached the last one I stood with my face level with his. I had forgotten what a pleasing countenance he had. He wasn’t handsome like my cousin but it was an open, honest face. I had thought his eyes were brown but now I could see there was a hint of green and gold in the depths. He had long dark lashes of a sort which would have pleased any girl. His mouth was well-formed and when he smiled, which he was doing at that moment, I could just see the white of his teeth. Most common men smelled of sweat and horses and the midden, but he didn’t.
‘Master Holand?’
‘Yes?’ He held out his hand.
‘Do you think… if it would please you… would you kiss me?’
‘Christ’s blood, my lady! He snatched away his hand and stepped back in alarm as if he had been struck. ‘Are you trying to get me hanged?’
He had no manners at all. What had I done to deserve such rudeness?
‘Listen, my lady,’ he said, coming close and practically whispering in my ear so we couldn’t be heard. ‘I know this is the last night of the celebrations and the world is upside down and I know the king’s servants in the abbey are running riot over their masters and poking fun at their betters. But this is the end of it. Tomorrow the world will be set back in its proper order and you must know I cannot do what you ask.’
‘I haven’t asked you for anything, Master Holand,’ I said sulkily. ‘There isn’t anything a man like you could possibly offer a girl like me.’
‘My lady, I may not be the cleverest of men but I know about young women and I know exactly what you were saying and I cannot listen to you if you speak like that.’
He took my gloved fingers and helped me to the ground but immediately afterwards removed his hand as if afraid of what I might do.
‘So we cannot be friends,’ I said.
‘Not if I value my neck, my lady, which I do.’ He must have seen the flicker of disappointment in my eyes. ‘Listen, my lady. There is a gulf between my world and yours and it’s as wide as the River Scheldt; you must know that. It’s a gulf of birthright and privilege. I am in the king’s service and you are his cousin. I can have no place in your life, not as a friend or anything else.’
‘My betrothed is very old,’ I said, hearing the quiver in my voice.
‘If you will permit me to say it, my lady, you are very young and doubtless many men look old to you.’
‘But he has a great regard for me.’
‘I’m sure he does.’
‘I don’t like him.’
‘But he is rich and powerful, I’ll wager?’
I thought of the sumptuous velvet of the crimson robe, the jewelled rings and the casual intimacy he’d shared with my cousin. ‘Yes. He is rich and he is over-friendly with the king.’
‘Then you have nothing to worry about. It is a good marriage.’
We walked back across the bridge and through the streets, side by side, neither of us speaking, with that gulf he had talked of widening with every step we took. At the river’s edge he took pity on me. His face was half-hidden in shadows but this time his voice was soft. ‘I don’t wish to be unkind,’ he said. ‘I wish you well and I hope it is a good man they have found for you to marry. You are a very…’ he paused as if seeking the appropriate word. ‘You are a very pleasant young woman and you deserve to be happy.’
‘Will you go with the king to fight next summer, Master Holand?’ I thought I would converse with him like any person might, how any girl who was quite uninterested in being his friend or anything else, might converse.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And if the king and the blessed St Thomas permit, when it is over I shall go home to England and find myself a wife.’
Alice was waiting for me in the warmest place, beside the dying embers of the fire. One of her husband’s many torn garments lay neatly on her knee and she was carefully applying tiny stitches along the seam.
She raised her head as I entered the room.
I stripped off my cloak and collapsed onto the stool at her side.
‘I am to be married,’ I said miserably. ‘That’s why I was summoned. To be shown off to my betrothed, not to share in the entertainments. Oh Alice, he’s old enough to be my grandfather and I don’t know if I can bear it. He was horrible. He wasn’t what I imagined a husband would be and he treated me like a horse from the stable yard to be prodded and poked.’
&nbs
p; I shivered at the memory of his fingers on my face.
‘Who is he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘But you must have some idea,’ said Alice gently.
‘One of the king’s friends.’
‘Rich?’
‘Oh yes,’ I said grudgingly. I knew this was the only thing of any importance in marriage: how wealthy a man was and what were his connections to the king.
‘One of the nobility?’
‘The servants say he’s a Gascon lord.’
Alice put down her needle and clapped her hands together.
‘But that’s wonderful. A lord, maybe a count.’
‘No!’ I cried. ‘It’s far from being wonderful. I won’t marry him.’
‘Don’t be childish,’ snapped Alice. ‘Margaret was quite right. You really are the most stupid of girls. Of course you will marry him. It’s not up to you what you do. If the king has chosen this man, then you will marry him. From what you say it’s a splendid marriage. Just imagine what your life will be like. You’ll have a horse of your own and a groom to care for it. And there’ll be gifts. A rich husband will give you jewels and furs and you’ll be admired by everyone. You are very lucky.’
‘I’m not lucky and I’m not stupid,’ I cried.
‘You have no idea what the world is for a woman,’ said Alice firmly. ‘Look at me! I am a king’s granddaughter but my father took no more care with my marriage than he did with Margaret’s. Do you imagine we enjoy our positions as our husband’s wives? Do you think I like Lady Catherine looking down her long nose and treating me as no better than a servant simply because my husband is inferior to hers? When she is a mere baron’s daughter, do you think I like it that she is a countess and I am not? And how do you think Margaret feels, married to that nobody, John Segrave? You are extremely fortunate so stop complaining. I wish I had had your luck.’
We continued arguing until Alice made herself ready for bed. She murmured her prayers and crawled beneath the covers. I lay beside her in tears. The pillow was warm and damp beneath my cheek but Alice’s words were hard as granite and just as pitiless.
‘Stop snivelling, Jeanette. You don’t have any choice in the matter so you’d better get used to it. Think of your family. Imagine how pleased your mother will be.’
‘I don’t wish to marry him,’ I mumbled tearfully into my pillow, the softness swallowing up the words. But there was no reply. Alice was already asleep.
That summer my cousin took his men to war. Together with his allies he invaded the territory of the French king, burned his villages and laid waste his land. But there was no great battle. When the two armies met, the Valois turned tail and scuttled back to Paris like the coward he was.
‘There’ll be another campaign,’ whispered Elizabeth. ‘The French king has to be defeated in battle.’
My heart leapt. Perhaps my betrothed might not live to see the French king vanquished. Perhaps he would die before I had to marry him. Or perhaps I would grow old and die a spinster in Antwerp, still waiting for my cousin to win his war.
The cold weather returned and with it the tedium of discussions within Lady Catherine’s rooms of compulsory staples, forfeitures and papal interdicts. To my surprise there was a treaty of friendship with the Flemings giving them limitless supplies of English wool and allowing my cousin and his army safe passage through Flanders to the borders of the kingdom of France. Lady Catherine said that before long Philip of Valois would hear us knocking on the gates of Paris.
2
Ghent 1340
‘Where is my girdle?’ shrieked Elizabeth, her nose deep in a chest. ‘Who’s taken it?’
‘Nobody,’ I replied. ‘You lent it to Lady Alice.’
‘But I need it. Someone must go and get it.’
She looked in vain for a willing slave but every other girl had her arms full of clothes and the maids were nowhere to be seen. The room was awash with silks and shoes and serviceable woollen gowns, the beds strewn with satin ribbons and bits of embroidered cloth, and the little table by the hearth was hidden beneath a pile of fine linen sheets.
Only yesterday we had been told we were leaving for Ghent. Everything must be got ready and packed into chests because this wasn’t like the week we had spent in the little town of Brussels enjoying my cousin’s tournaments, this time we were not coming back.
Clutching a tangle of coloured stockings to her breast, Elizabeth favoured me with a special smile. ‘Please, Joan,’ she pleaded. ‘I’ll let you borrow my green ribbon.’
‘Oh, very well,’ I said. ‘But don’t steal anything out of my box.’
I thought Alice might be in the courtyard so I hurried through the outer chamber and ran down the steps as fast as I could. As I rounded the final turn I found myself confronted by a dark figure with a foot on the bottom stair. I put out both hands and clutched the rails to stop myself from falling.
‘By the Saints! Here’s a surprise!’
It was Thomas Holand looking at me with an ever-widening smile.
‘Are you planning to hold the stairway against all-comers, my lady? Because if you are, I would suggest you find a weapon.’
I couldn’t speak. It was a whole year since I’d seen him last and I hadn’t expected to see him again.
He put his hand to his belt. ‘I have a dagger if you’d care to borrow it.’
I could feel the flush rising into my cheeks.
‘No, thank you, Master Holand,’ I muttered. ‘I have no need of a weapon.’
‘Ah, my lady, wrong on two counts. First, I am Master Holand no longer; I am Sir Thomas Holand. And secondly, a young woman should always pay attention to her defences. Who knows when she might find herself in need of protection?’
‘You are a knight?’
‘Yes. His Grace did me the honour. But as you know, my lady, I’m really just an ordinary man and ordinary men seldom expect such rewards.’
Sir Thomas! I thought. How wonderful for him.
‘Will you be returning to England?’ I asked, feeling a need to fill the growing silence.
‘Why would I do that?’
My cheeks burned. I would have given anything to escape this embarrassment but he was blocking my way.
‘You said you wanted a wife.’
He put his head on one side and considered me for what seemed like an age. Then his eyes narrowed and his smile widened still further.
‘I had planned to return for the winter, but I’ve been offered a position here which, on second thoughts, I think I shall accept.’
I looked up and met his eyes. ‘Who is your companion?’ I said quickly.
He cast a sideways glance at the man standing at his shoulder.
‘Forgive me, my lady, I forget you like to know the name of every man who crosses your path however lowly he may be. May I present my younger brother, Otho Holand.’
The young man bowed. I could see the likeness: the prominent cheekbones, the wide-set eyes, the straight nose. He was about the same height but of slighter build and the hair beneath his cap was fair. He didn’t have the firm mouth and well-drawn lips of his elder brother and his chest was not as broad. He looked ill at ease. Perhaps it was something I’d said.
I smiled one of my smallest smiles and acknowledged the greeting.
‘And what of you, my lady?’ Thomas Holand’s voice was perfectly even. ‘What of the vast wardrobe?’
He was laughing at me and I found myself unable to speak.
‘Not yet?’ he said more gently.
I shook my head. ‘No, not yet,’ I muttered. ‘But soon.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Soon.’
His brother gave him a nudge and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Sir Thomas gave a short laugh and spread his hands in a gesture of ap
ology.
‘I have been remiss, my lady, and my brother reminds me of my duty. You see, it is always wise to have a man like my brother at one’s side when doing battle no matter how well-disguised the enemy might be. He’s saved me from many an ill-conceived action. You were clearly on your way to some engagement when we stopped your progress, so may we have the honour of escorting you?’
‘No thank you, Sir Thomas.’
‘There are many people out there, my lady, people you might not care to meet: undesirables, cutpurses, young girls bent on deceit.’ His eyes creased with amusement. ‘And I really wouldn’t want you to get lost.’
He was being very rude. Perhaps that was what happened when you were raised up by the king. Perhaps he now considered himself my equal. But he could never be that. I was a king’s granddaughter whilst he would never be more than he was, just an ordinary man honoured by his king.
‘My lady?’ He looked at me enquiringly. ‘May I be of service?’
I looked up in an agony of indecision. Perhaps I should accept his offer. Perhaps I ought to say something. Perhaps I should ask if he’d be coming with us to Ghent. I gulped and felt that unaccustomed sensation of disquiet deep in my belly.
‘No, thank you, Sir Thomas,’ I said quickly. ‘I have no need of you.’
In January we travelled into Flanders with the English archers singing as they marched. It was horribly cold and the rivers and marshes glittered with ice but nothing dampened the high spirits of my cousin’s men. In the bright winter sunshine, sword hilts sparkled, spurs gleamed and everyone believed we were marching towards a great victory. My cousin’s new banners, quartered with the leopards of England and the fleur-de-lys of France were, so Elizabeth said, a statement of the rightness of his claim to the French Crown. When he stood in the market place in Ghent and declared himself King of England and King of France, a champion of Christendom, the crowd roared their approval and I knew that nothing could stop him.
The Fair Maid of Kent Page 5
