by June Francis
Louise felt as if she had been doused with cold water. ‘Then I might as well leave now,’ she said in a voice that quivered despite all that she did to control it, ‘if you are not going to help me find Marguerite.’
He paused in his washing. ‘I did not say I would not help you find Marguerite. I gave you my word and I intend keeping it.’ He shook water off his arms, and began to dry himself.
‘Then — you just mean — ’ she began, getting out of bed, clutching a blanket to her breast.
‘I mean, mam’selle, that you will come to England with me if I have to drag you there by the hair.’ His slitted eyes glinted. ‘I owe you something for saving my life.’
‘You saved mine,’ she said quietly, ‘when you threw me in the sea, thinking me a thieving rogue.’
‘My life might have been less painful and complicated if I had left you there.’ His mouth eased into a smile.
‘And perhaps I should have left you to the wolves.’ She could not help returning his smile.
‘But you didn’t,’ he murmured, picking up her chemise from the floor, and holding it out to her.
There was a silence as she took it. ‘How do I know I can trust you to keep your distance?’
‘You don’t,’ he said quietly, looking suddenly very weary. ‘You’ll just have to believe me when I say that I want you as little as you want me.’
Louise stared into his face, before lowering her gaze to his bare muscular thighs. She took a deep steadying breath. ‘Then I suggest, sir, that you get dressed and leave me to perform my toilet alone.’
‘A good idea. I wish to see if the Grace has tied up yet.’ His hand brushed past her as he reached for his hose and she turned her back on him hurriedly. A few minutes later she heard the door open and close.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LOUISE was just lacing up her bodice when Clotilde entered. She was wearing a scarlet bagpiped-sleeved surcote that swept the floor, and her dark hair was loose about her shoulders. ‘So you are awake at last,’ she said brightly. ‘I brought you a clean surcote.’ She tossed one of dark green on a heavy carved oak chest, before seating herself on its lid. ‘The men have gone out so we are free to talk of whatever we wish. Harry asked me to try and persuade you to stay here with me. He is under the impression that he is leaving for England and that I will be lonely. But I don’t want you to stay, so I thought I would tell you that immediately.’
Louise stared at her, a little surprised. ‘I have no intention of staying. We both have changed and I doubt we would suit. But surely it is true what Harry says — and you will be lonely without him?’
Avoiding her eyes, Clotilde said, ‘Without him — ay! But perhaps he will not go after all, and in that case you will not be needed here.’ She slid off the chest, and picked up the soiled saffron surcote that Louise had discarded. She tuttered and held it away from her skirts, her dainty nose wrinkling in disgust. ‘I don’t know how you managed to get this so dirty so quickly. Or why you had to run off the way you did yesterday. What was it Harry said to you?’
‘Nothing for you to concern yourself about,’ murmured Louise, picking up the green surcote.
The other woman stared at her, her lower lip pouting. ‘He asked you to stay, didn’t he? What else did he suggest?’
‘It is of no importance. I am not staying,’ said Louise.
Clotilde frowned, and, going over to the window, she drummed her fingernails against the pane. Then she turned and gazed at Louise. ‘He cannot desire you,’ she said abruptly. ‘It must be that he pities you because you were an oddity in those boy’s clothes. That must be the only reason for him taking an interest. Harry never suggests anything without it being directly to do with his welfare. Have a look in my mirror and you will see that your looks can’t compare to mine.’
‘I don’t have to.’ Louise’s voice was quiet. Her careful fingers smoothed the fine, almost cobweb-like woollen skirts of lyraigne.
Clotilde gave a glittering smile and walked over to the mirror to stare at her reflection. ‘Do you really think that I’ve lost none of my looks? Lately I’ve wondered … ’ Her voice tailed off and her brows knitted.
‘You’ll lose them if you keep frowning like that,’ said Louise, coming to stand next to her, and comparing her rosy face to the pale complexion of her old friend. She wished that her hair would grow quickly.
A heavy sigh escaped Clotilde. ‘It’s because I worry. My looks are my life now, Louise. If I lose them — who will want me? If I allowed Harry to go — ’ She stopped abruptly and Louise stared at her.
‘Can you stop him?’
Clotilde smiled. ‘I have an — acquaintance of influence,’ She shrugged, and toyed with her nails. ‘Harry says that he will return, but if he gets home to England who knows? I have heard the emotion in his voice when he talks about that country.’
Louise said quickly, ‘It is natural that he cares for his own country. And would you not think that it would make him understand better why I want to find Marguerite and bring her home?’
Clotilde suddenly smiled. ‘Ah, Marguerite, always so cheerful even when everything was going wrong. She was not the least like you, ma chére amie. I wager that even living in England will not lower her spirits for long.’
Louise’s mouth lifted. ‘That is why I miss her so much. I could never get too depressed when in her company. I must find her!’
‘And when you do?’ said Clotilde, moving away from the mirror. ‘What then? Will Harry’s brother still provide for you? No, Louise, I do not think he will.’ She sat on the bed, hugging herself. ‘Last night Harry told me that his brother had taken a vow of celibacy and that it came to an end yesterday. No wonder he wanted a woman! Any woman would have done,’ she said carelessly. ‘You were fortunate to be at hand. Make the most of it, for it will not last. He will tire of you eventually. And what then?’
Louise took the insult, concealing her emotions well. ‘He said that he will find a home for me and Marguerite,’ she said calmly.
Clotilde’s eyes widened. ‘And you would be happy in such a position? He is an Englishman, remember, and you hate them all.’
Louise looked at her squarely. ‘I turned his offer down. When I find Marguerite I will return to France.’
Clotilde’s smile came and went. ‘Then I presume you gave yourself to him for his promise to help you find Marguerite. How noble of you.’ Louise shrugged but said nothing, having no intention of telling her friend the truth of the matter.
Clotilde continued. ‘But do make sure that you have something from him to provide for some kind of future for you and Marguerite. He is the older twin and not a poor man, but the whole family are heretics and already they are the poorer because they have had to pay fines to their king.’
‘Pardon!’ Louise stared at her, taken aback. ‘Harry has told you he is a heretic?’
‘Men like to unburden themselves in bed.’ Her eyes hardened. ‘And what do I care for what the Church says? They condemn me for being alive. They would rather I starved in the gutter while half of them live immorally and wear miniver and scarlet. The Church needs reforming but its priests are slow to put their own house in order. And they would destroy any that seek change! Harry would have been burnt alive if he had not recanted and joined the Usurper’s army.’
‘And John — has he recanted?’ Louise asked through stiff lips.
Clotilde shrugged and avoided her eyes. ‘I know little of his affairs. But at least Harry knows now that he is safe. He was telling me that they feel it when the other is in some kind of trouble. He will soon settle down again. But you — you must go with his brother, Louise.’
But Louise was not listening properly because she was trying to take in that John was a heretic. In her mood of distraction she murmured, ‘My father would never listen to the debates of the heretics, but covered his ears, fearful that he would become possessed by the demons possessing them.’
Clotilde got up from the bed. ‘Do you believe the brothers
possessed?’ A tinkling laugh issued from her painted lips. ‘I do not! And I doubt John would try to persuade you into believing what he does. He’s only interested in your body, not your soul.’
‘My body, not my soul. Ay,’ murmured Louise, an unexpected ache inside her. ‘But Harry isn’t only interested in your body if he has talked to you about such matters.’
‘He talks to me because he has nobody else he trusts. And men must talk!’ Clotilde raised her eyes to the raftered ceiling.
Louise could not help wondering whether Harry was right to trust her friend. She seemed very certain that he would not be leaving for England. Who was this acquaintance she had mentioned, and where had she gone earlier?
Clotilde put her hand through Louise’s arm. ‘Sometimes men’s talk can be very tedious. Let us instead speak of food.’ Her expression lightened. ‘There is roasted pig and truffles and plenty of cider.’
‘Surely it is not time for dinner? Besides, the men have not returned yet.’
‘That is true.’ Clotilde shrugged. ‘But food has to be prepared. And if you are sailing to England then you must get ready.’ Without another word she swept Louise out of the bedchamber.
A couple of hours later John and Harry returned with the news that the Grace had not yet docked.
‘Perhaps it will not come,’ said Clotilde brightly.
Louise darted a glance at John.
‘Of course it will come,’ he murmured, taking the platter of meat and bread from her. ‘After dinner, if you so desire, you can walk with me to the quais. My brother has some business to attend to.’
Warmth flooded her because he seemed concerned to reassure her. ‘I would like that,’ she said, considering that if the opportunity arose she might mention her suspicions about Clotilde, She wanted nothing more to delay her getting to England.
They talked little as they walked through the streets, but he asked her about the two abbeys outside the town walls. One he knew contained the remains of Matilde, the wife of William the Conqueror. ‘Ah, the other holds the remains of her husband,’ said Louise, smiling. ‘The pope at the time forbade their union. William was a bastard and he behaved in a manner that displeased the Church. Even so they married and in the end Holy Church countenanced it — at a price. They both had to pay to have an abbey built. So that is why there are two. It always seems sad to me that they fought to live together and yet they lie apart in death.’
‘Yet they will rise together at the end of time. It is a romantic tale,’ said John pensively. ‘But do you not consider it interesting that this same William of Normandy conquered England and now a king of England is doing the reverse? William was as little welcome in England, then, as Henry is here and now.’ She glanced at him, her expression startled. ‘What is it that you are saying? That it is just that your king conquers?’
‘No. I’m saying that French and English blood has mingled much in the past despite the power games that kings play. That there is kinship and friendship and trade between both countries as well as enmity.’
Her eyes darkened. ‘It is not that easy to think of friendship when you lose your home and your father, and your sister is abducted by the enemy.’
‘No. But it is easier to let hate go when you allow the enemy to become a friend.’
‘A friend?’ She looked at him, and flushed slightly. ‘I doubt you could call it friendship that binds us.’
‘I do not like the thought of you hating me, Louise,’ he said with a spurt of impatience. ‘And if we are not going to be lovers then let us be friends.’
She felt suddenly shy of him. ‘Can a man and woman be friends? I have never heard of such a thing.’
‘Then let us be different.’ His smile grew, and he caught her hand and swung it. ‘Friends help each other and I would help you all I can, Louise, because you have helped me in the manner of a friend, despite all your talk of hating me.’
She averted her profile because looking at him affected her breathing in a peculiar way. ‘Perhaps I don’t hate you as much as I thought I did,’ she murmured. ‘But we have come to the quais and perhaps we should be giving our attention to finding your ship.’
He agreed and they walked along the riverside, scanning the ships tied there and avoiding men unloading goods.
‘There it is!’ Louise indicated with her left hand. John still held her right. They hurried over to where the Grace was tied up, its sail furled.
A man came off the ship even as they came up to it and would have walked past them if John had not seized hold of his arm. ‘Do I look that unrecognisable, man?’ he demanded.
Thomas stared at him. ‘Master John?’ His voice was shocked as he grasped John’s hand and shook it fervently. ‘By all that’s holy, what’s happened to you?’
‘It’s a long story to be told another time.’ John smiled ruefully. ‘But my brother is here so all is well.’
Thomas looked relieved. ‘That’s good news for me, Master John. Because I have to tell you that the maid went off.’
‘Is that so?’ He looked vexed for a moment and then laughed. ‘Thomas, may I introduce you to Mam’selle Louise Saulnier?’
Louise gravely inclined her head in its starched linen head-dress, but her eyes twinkled. ‘Bonjour, Thomas.’
‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ the servant muttered, frowning and scratching his ear. ‘I really believed I’d seen the last of you, missy.’
‘Pardon? Parlez-vous Français?’ she responded.
‘Now don’t you be starting that again, mam’selle.’ He appeared discomfited. ‘I hope the master’s thought of teaching you some Anglais!’ He slanted John a look.
John nodded. ‘Yes, I have. But I need to talk to you of more serious matters. My brother will be sailing with us — the sooner the better, because there could be difficulties.’
Thomas scowled. ‘We’ve already had some clerks aboard, nosing about and asking what our business is here. The master told ’em we just came to fill up with water, and get fresh food if there be any available, and to pick up a couple of passengers. He seemed to think we’d come out of our way just for that and wanted to know who the passengers were.’
John frowned. ‘Did you tell him the name we agreed on? And did he ask to see the master’s papers?’
‘Ay,’ he said tersely. ‘And mine. Seems that everything’s getting tightened up at these Anglified Frenchie ports.’
‘You still have the false papers safe?’ said John. ‘My real ones were taken from me.’
Thomas nodded and grinned. ‘A fair collection I’ve got tucked away where only I know about them.’
John nodded thoughtfully. ‘We’ll have need of them. Get me ready the ones referring to the Bertrands. Apparently the King doesn’t like it when his subjects change their minds and want to return home.’
Louise tugged at his arm; not understanding a word of what was being said had become a little wearisome. ‘M’sieur Milburn,’ she said quietly. ‘If you would be so kind as to — ’
‘Hush, woman,’ he muttered. ‘Don’t call me by that name here. I am now Master Bertrand and don’t you forget it. And that reminds me.’ He smiled slightly. ‘You will not object to playing the part of my wife for now?’
‘Your wife?’ she stammered.
‘Ay. I have papers for a wife. But I won’t expect you to put body and soul into the character,’ he said drily. He turned to Thomas before she could say any more, and spoke rapidly. ‘You will tell the master I wish to depart this evening.’ Thomas nodded and John took Louise’s elbow and led her away.
‘Do we return to your brother’s house now?’ she demanded.
‘Ay. There are matters to be sorted out before we can leave Caen.’
‘You have papers for Harry?’
John nodded. ‘But you must keep quiet about them, Louise. Do not speak of them even to Clotilde.’
Louise said hesitantly, ‘She does not want your brother to leave.’
‘That is understandable.’ His brows
drew together. ‘Yet he will leave her well provided for. She really has nothing to complain about.’
‘They have lived like man and wife,’ she could not help saying. ‘Parting is bound to be a wrench.’
He stared down at her, and his expression had hardened. ‘It is not always so between husband and wife. Many are glad to live apart.’ He paused, before adding, ‘You believe, though, in Harry’s — and Clotilde’s — case that she will perhaps miss him for more than what material benefits he has brought her?’
‘I think Clotilde might try to stop him leaving,’ she said quietly, as he hurried her past a creaking wain and over the bridge.
‘He will not be persuaded to stay by her tears. Harry has made up his mind to leave and will do so. My brother has a will of iron when it suits him.’
‘I was not thinking of tears,’ murmured Louise, gnawing at her bottom lip, considering carefully before she added, ‘She left the house early this morning and she has spoken to me about having an acquaintance of some influence. She seems very sure that Harry will not be leaving.’
John’s grip on her arm tightened. ‘You think that she has informed someone of my brother’s intentions?’ Louise barely hesitated. ‘Ay. And the quicker he is informed the better. He could have told her already about your false papers — the name of the ship. She knows your real name — perhaps she could cause trouble for you both that way. If you are heretics — ’
‘She has told you that?’
Louise nodded. ‘It is true?’ she asked tentatively.
His eyes narrowed. ‘The less you know about such things, mam’selle, the better. My brother’s a damn fool for all his talk about me where women are concerned. Come, let us not tarry.’
She wondered what he meant by women but had little time to think on it because as they neared the house she noticed a couple of men standing on the other side of the street who did not seem to be doing anything in particular. ‘Do you think?’
