Medieval Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “How much?” Nicholas asked the man once again.

  “I want twelve livre for the items she chose,” the man said and crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at Muriel. “And ten denier too,” he added. Muriel figured he was trying to intimidate her, bartering in French coinage, thinking she wouldn’t know how much he was asking. But she knew. Her father had been sure to teach her this, at her insistence of course. The man waited for Nicholas’s answers. Muriel furrowed her brow at the price, knowing the man was trying to swindle them.

  Nicholas was about to agree to the man’s price, since he didn’t like to barter where the price of fine goods was concerned, and neither did he have to. He had the money, and he didn’t mind letting a poor merchant make a good deal once in awhile. That always had them coming back to him first with new goods to buy or trade, and this gave him the pick of the lot. But before he could open his mouth, Muriel answered for them.

  “Nay! That price is outrageous, and don’t think I don’t know exactly how much you are asking. She took a quick scope of the goods she was interested in buying. We’ll pay ten marks only, and not a pence – or a denier more. And since you just tried to swindle us, I want you to throw in that box of fur for free. The man had some nice pelts she could use for lining cloaks and gowns.”

  The merchant just stared at her with his mouth opened for a second before he answered. “What! Nay, I can’t do that.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m making a deal with the baron, not you, wench.” The man tried coming back with a counter offer and Nicholas just stood back and crossed his arms as well and enjoyed the show. “You heard the girl,” he said. “That is our offer. And I told you not to refer to her as a wench. Do it again, and we’ll turn around and leave right now without finalizing the sale.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” said the man, scowling at Muriel. “How about I agree to the deal, but without the fur thrown in?”

  “Muriel?” asked Nicholas, knowing this was more than a fair deal, as he’d often spent nearly half this amount on cloth and fur to make just one tunic and cloak for himself.

  He watched Muriel scrunch her face and purse her lips, as if she were adding something in her head. Then to his surprise, she put the items down and turned away.

  “Nay, we’re not interested. There are many more merchants here today with silk, lace and fur finer than yours. We’ll take our business elsewhere.” She walked up to Nicholas. “Are you ready to go?”

  It was his turn to just stare with his mouth open now. What was she trying to do? Make a fool out of him? He wanted the goods, and she was telling him what to do again. He was about to reprimand her when all of a sudden the merchant agreed.

  “All right. Take them for that price. Here, I’ll throw in a spool of colored cord too if you’ll do business with me again, my lord.”

  She raised her chin and looked at the man and nodded. “It’s a deal. Lord Romney will pay you, but I warn you, don’t try to ever swindle us again.” She turned and walked down the boarding plank, leaving him standing there with the man. Nicholas was so amused by this, that he wasn’t even angry. He turned and saw the man holding out his hand for the money.

  He opened his pouch and pulled out a few coins and dropped them in the man’s hand. “Here is part of the money, and you’ll get the rest once the goods are delivered to my manor house.” He reached into his pouch again and handed the man another coin. “This is to pay your crew to bring the goods to my door.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” said the man, taking the money and looking back down the boarding plank. “Who is that wench – I mean peasant, anyway? She drives a hard bargain.”

  “That, my friend is not a wench, nor a peasant, but the finest spinster in all of England. And her name is . . . Lady Muriel,” he said on a whim, not even sure why he’d said it.

  “She’s a noble?” The man’s eyes opened wide. “I am so sorry, my lord, I had no idea. But why do you let her on the docks? And dressed like naught more than a peasant?”

  “I’m not worried about her, but mayhap you should be. She can take care of herself. I’ve never met a woman like her who has so much strength and spirit. She is truly amazing.” He looked down the boarding plank to see Muriel spinning wool as she walked, not looking at her fingers, but rather craning her neck to see what other goods were being loaded and unloaded from the ships.

  “Is she your wife?” the merchant asked, watching her as well.

  Nicholas just smiled and then turned away without answering. He headed down the boarding plank, and called back over his shoulder. “Make sure the goods are delivered to my manor before sunset, and don’t be late.”

  The thought of marrying a girl like Muriel was intriguing, and the more he was around her the more he pondered it. Could he . . . should he . . . even consider marrying a woman who was naught more than a merchant’s daughter? He knew what his father and brother would say. He also knew what the other barons would say as well. But suddenly, he didn’t care. Because if the day came that he decided he wanted to marry Muriel Draper, the merchant’s daughter, he would do it and no one would tell him otherwise.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Just put the rest of the items right in here.” Muriel directed the dockmen who were delivering everything they had bought today. Her brother, Isaac, as well as Cecily were in the Ladies’ Solar as well, watching in amazement as the goods were being brought in.

  “I have never seen so much wealth in one place at the same time,” said her brother, opening a package and holding up a long strand of pearls that would be used for trim on a lady’s gown.

  “My stepfather will go crazy once he hears about this,” said Cecily, running her hand over a pelt of rabbit’s fur. “He is always talking about bringing home items like this. Recently we’ve been doing well in trade and he’s brought home lots of goods, but nothing nearly as nice as this.”

  “It’s the baron,” said Muriel, sitting down in a chair and rubbing her aching feet. “He likes to spend money. He doesn’t even quibble on the price. If it wasn’t for me, he would have paid twice as much and brought home half the amount, I swear.”

  “You always were good with numbers,” said Isaac. “It’s a shame father never let you travel and trade with him. I went along several times, but you would have been more helpful by his side.”

  “Why aren’t you two working?” The baron walked into the room. He was handed a receipt by one of the dockmen, and he looked it over as well as the goods. Then he handed a pouch of coins to the men and they left. Isaac ran over to the loom and continued the weaving he’d been doing earlier, and Cecily headed for the door.

  “Good day Baron, and Muriel, I have to leave now.” She hurried out the door and Muriel just sat there and continued to rub her feet.

  “Muriel?” he said in a low voice. “Did you hear me?”

  She sighed and pulled her spindle out of her pouch, so tired she could barely move. Her fingers were cramping up from doing so much spinning today, and she felt spent from the sun on the docks and all the fresh air.

  “Isaac, it’s late. You will sleep in the great hall by the fire while you’re at the manor,” the baron ordered. “Go on then. And close the door behind you.”

  “Aye, my lord,” he said, and left the room and closed the door as instructed. The ladies were all done for the day and the rest of the room was already empty except for the two of them.

  “I’m ready for bed too,” she said, putting down her spindle.

  “Muriel, you’ll be sleeping in here for now.”

  “What?” She looked up, and rubbed her foot again. “So . . . I won’t be sleeping in the solar . . . with you?”

  “It’s not proper,” he said, and her heart sank to her feet. She’d thought it meant something to him that they’d made love. It obviously was naught more than a roll in the hay like he probably did with most his serving wenches.

  “I see.” She tried to hide her disappointment, but couldn’t.r />
  He reached down to her as she sat in the chair. He lifted her chin gently with his fingers. “Look at me,” he said. Her eyes met his clear green gaze, and she felt herself getting lost within his perusal. “It’s just for now. Until my . . . until I decide what to do.”

  “Is it because of your father and brother being here, isn’t it? I know they don’t approve of me.”

  “No one tells me what to do, Muriel. I don’t care what they say. I just need time alone. I need to think.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m on a quest. I’m looking for some things, and when I find them – I’ll reconsider where you spend your nights.”

  “Mayhap I can help you with your quest. Why don’t you tell me what it is you’re looking for, my lord?”

  He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers, and she closed her eyes and her body trembled. She couldn’t stop thinking of being in his arms. She wanted him more than anything.

  “Stay with me,” she whispered, and for a moment she almost thought he’d consider it. He kissed her again, and ran a gentle hand across the side of her face and spoke in a low voice.

  “Not tonight, my little spinster. You are tired from our excursions today, and you need your sleep. I’ve already had a pallet brought in, and this will be your living quarters until your debt is paid.”

  She reached up and put her hand on his, feeling the ring – her mother’s wedding ring – still jammed onto the tip of his finger. What had started as a mission to work off her debt to get the ring back, was turning into something entirely different. Now she wanted to stay because of so much more. Her reasons now were more meaningful than the ring. She wanted to stay because of him. Even if she knew a union between them could never be possible.

  He stood up, and his body warmth went with him. Then he looked at her once more before he left. “I’m . . . not sure,” he said.

  “Not sure of what, my lord?” She thought he meant spending the night with her, but by his next words she knew she’d misinterpreted his meaning.

  “I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for. But I’ll know – once I find it.” He turned and walked out the door, closing it with a soft thud behind him.

  Muriel stood and made her way to the pallet, sure she would fall asleep even before her head hit the pillow.

  Nicholas stood outside the Ladies’ Solar, and leaned his head against the closed door. Damn, he wanted to stay. He’d also wanted to tell Muriel that she’d impressed him today with her fearless bartering skills, and also her ability to walk and talk and spin wool at the same time. She was beautiful, high spirited and multi-talented. He’d never met anyone like her.

  He was attracted to her like a bee to a flower, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Once her debt was paid off, she’d go back to town, and he was no longer sure if that is what he wanted.

  He thought about his father and brother and how they reminded him he was noble and needed to marry within his status. Then he thought about his baron friends and how they’d teased him about Muriel too. The words of the foreign merchant rang loudly in his ears. Is she your wife? he’d asked, and Nicholas had remained silent because he didn’t know how to answer. He’d wanted to say she wasn’t, but the words just wouldn’t seem to come. Deep down in his soul, something had stopped him from saying it. And that scared him more than any battle he’d ever fought at the king’s side.

  Did he want Muriel as his wife? He felt confused and befuddled. Was it just coupling he wanted from this brash, defiant, beautiful and talented girl? Or was it something more? He had thought his quest was to find the smugglers and swindlers at port, but now he knew he had another quest as well. He needed to find his true feelings about Muriel – and it was time that one way or another he found himself a wife.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nicholas said goodbye to his father and brother, secretly glad to have them leave. It had been over a fortnight now that they were visiting, and he thought they’d never go back to Pensworth. He’d all but ignored Muriel while they were here, knowing that it wasn’t proper for a baron to be carrying on with a merchant’s daughter.

  Every day he’d see her walking around with her spindle in hand, spinning while she ate, spinning while she talked with others from the manor, and even spinning when she walked in his orchards, or on her way to the garderobe, just like he’d instructed.

  He hadn’t been to the Ladies’ Solar in weeks now, and needed to check to see how her progress was coming along. He’d spent most his time on the docks lately, and going over the tally sheets, realizing something just didn’t add up. The tallies of the incoming and outgoing goods taxed in his port did not match up with the receipts that were stamped with the port’s seal and collected from the merchants at the end of the day. But he still couldn’t put his finger on the perpetrator. He would have to go through thousands of receipts to find the discrepancy. Somebody was cheating him and the crown, and he would find it no matter what.

  None of his portsmen had reported a problem of any kind, and that concerned him greatly. He knew that if they weren’t aware of it, that it was probably deceit from his paid help instead of fault with the tradesmen. Or perhaps a little of both. He didn’t want to think of what he’d have to do to whomever he found was cheating and not paying the taxes due to the crown. Still, his portsmen were already granted privileges and no taxes, so it would be a huge mistake for them to get involved.

  That brought him back to the merchants again. It had to be some of them who were cheating him. And there was one person who might be able to tell him what he wanted to know.

  He hurried to the Ladies’ Solar to find Isaac at the loom, and Muriel helping him as they removed a piece of cloth that was excellently woven with high quality tightly spun wool. He walked up and joined them, receiving nods and curtsies from the rest of the ladies who were sewing and embroidering in the solar.

  “Let me see your work,” he said to Muriel, holding out his hands. She handed it to him carefully and proudly. He ran his hand over the cloth and smiled. “This is amazing. It is some of the finest work I’ve ever seen.”

  “It was mostly Isaac,” she told him. “He has finished his apprenticeship already. If my father were still alive, Isaac would be a journeyman by now.”

  “I can see why. Keep up the good work, Isaac.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” the boy said with a nod.

  “Muriel, I’m pleased with you as well.”

  She just smiled.

  “I’m so pleased, I’d like you both to take the rest of the day off and do as you will.”

  “Really?” asked Isaac. “Your squire told me I could watch him in the practice yard this afternoon.”

  “He’s there now, so go on,” said Nicholas with a nod.

  “Thank you, my lord.” He got up from the loom, bowed, then ran off excitedly.

  “What about you, Muriel? What will you do on your day off?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, taking the cloth from him and folding it carefully. “I don’t really want to go back to town since I’m not wanted by the guild. I guess I’ll just stay here with the ladies and work.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “My lord?” She looked up to him in question.

  “You will accompany me to my marshlands. Since you rent land from me, I’d think you’d want to make sure things are as they should be.”

  “You mean with the sheep? I’m sure if something were amiss, Brother Germain would tell us.”

  “Muriel, I’m trying to ask you . . .” he looked the other way, catching the eyes of several of the ladies, and thinking this wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Ask me what?” She put the cloth in a trunk with her back turned toward him.

  He followed her across the room and spoke in a low voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “I just mean – we haven’t been alone since – since the night we coupled.”

  That got her attention. Her head snapped up and when she turned to
ward him, her eyes met his. Indigo innocence masked by the wild want of a lover reflected in her orbs.

  “What are you saying, my lord?”

  “I’m just saying, I’d like to spend some time alone with you. Away from the watching eyes of the manor, away from the busy docks, and far away from the sludge-filled streets of the town.”

  “I’d like that too. Where shall we go?”

  “Actually, instead of the marshlands, I think I’d like to go for a sail.”

  “A sail?” She laughed at his suggestion.

  “Does that amuse you?”

  “Nay, my lord. But I don’t think that you and I can commandeer a ship the size of yours by ourselves. And with a crew of nearly two dozen men, I’d hardly think we’d be alone.”

  “Nay, that’s not what I meant. He ran a hand through his hair feeling nervous for some odd reason. This girl had him feeling ways he hadn’t felt since he was a randy boy. “I have a smaller vessel that I rent out to fishermen since I don’t have much use for it. I have a friend who can sail the boat with the help of his two sons. I also have a private cabin aboard the boat where we won’t be bothered.

  “So . . . will we just be sailing, or . . . doing something else?” she asked with hope in her voice.

  “I don’t know.” He reached out and touched her on the cheek, then pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t we just go for a sail in the fresh air, and see what happens?”

  “I’d like that, my lord,” she said, picking up her spindle and a small distaff of wool, sticking it under her arm. “I am ready to go.”

  “Nay, Muriel,” he said, taking the spindle and wool and setting them down. “You won’t need this today.”

  “She looked up and wet her lips with her tongue. “Thank you, my lord.”

  He wanted to kiss her, he really did, but couldn’t with the nobles in the chamber watching. Damn, why couldn’t he get over the fact that others might judge him? As a noble, it was something that had haunted him his entire life.