The Lady in the Tower

by Marie-Louise Jensen

  ‘Well met, my dear Eleanor. Whither away? And in such weather too!’

  ‘Lord Stanton.’ I bowed stiffly. I could feel myself going hot and cold with shock. Lord Stanton was bowing to Mother, and he was looking slightly puzzled.

  ‘Good morrow … ah … Mistress Maria?’ he said. Mother bowed and remained silent. This was sensible, but so unlike Maria that I imagined Lord Stanton would be suspicious at once. But it was me he was looking at, his brows raised. I resolved to brazen it out.

  ‘Mistress Maria has had word her sister is come to Bath,’ I informed him boldly. ‘She is desirous of meeting with her at once. So I offered to accompany her.’

  ‘Most generous of you, Eleanor. And in such weather too. But is the castle now so thin of company that no one remained to escort two ladies on such a long ride?’

  I bit my lip, vexed. I decided to play upon the recklessness he had once accused me of.

  ‘Indeed we needed nothing so stuffy as a groom trailing after us,’ I scoffed, tossing my head. ‘We will not detain you, sir.’ I bowed slightly by way of farewell and urged my horse forward. It was unfortunate that he chose that moment to miss his footing and stumble into a deep rut. He slipped and floundered before recovering himself. I kept my seat, but it was enough, apparently, for Lord Stanton.

  ‘Wait!’ he called. I halted again, fuming with vexation. I was desperate to get away from him. ‘I cannot possibly leave you to ride alone,’ Stanton said, wheeling his horse about and coming abreast of me. ‘You would be at the mercy of every scoundrel and thief on the road, and with no one by to help if either of you have an accident. I will be pleased to be your escort.’

  There was a note of sincerity in his voice which made me think he was trying to be kind rather than teasing me. But indeed, his kindness could not have been more ill judged. ‘Are you thinking of horse thieves, my lord?’ I asked sharply. ‘Indeed, I believe we may already have met one.’ He did not look as though he understood my allusion, so I continued, saying firmly: ‘Your escort will not be necessary.’ But he was no longer listening. He had turned and was giving orders to his servant to ride on to Farleigh. Mother and I told our horses to walk on, exchanging anxious looks.

  ‘Who is he?’ Mother mouthed from under her veil.

  ‘Stanton,’ I breathed back. She looked blank.

  Lord Stanton caught us up again and all chance of private conversation was at an end. As he brought his horse alongside mine and smiled, I scowled.

  ‘What are you doing at Farleigh again so soon?’ I asked.

  ‘Why, I have come for our wedding tomorrow, Mistress Eleanor. Or had that unimportant event slipped your mind entirely?’ he asked. I heard the sharp intake of Mother’s breath. Stanton heard it too, and turned politely to address her, leaving me no opportunity to retort to his jibe.

  ‘And which of your sisters will you have the pleasure of seeing in Bath, ma’am?’ he asked. Mother remained silent. I could sense her desperation and hurried into speech.

  ‘Maria has had a sore throat and has lost her voice,’ I said. ‘I think it was … er … your sister Harriet, was it not, Maria?’

  ‘Mistress Maria, it was most unwise of you to ride out in the rain with a sore throat,’ said Stanton, earnestly. ‘How could you be so careless of your health?’ I cast him a suspicious look, which he met limpidly, but I could see small creases of amusement about his eyes, and realized that he had guessed at least a part of what we were trying to hide.

  ‘Do you not fear to become seriously ill?’ Stanton continued, turning back to my mother. ‘You risk an inflammation of the lung at the very least. And there is the danger that you could pass it to your sister, you know. Have you not considered this?’

  I realized too late what a stupid lie I had told. I was also sure now that Stanton was amusing himself at my expense once more. Mother remained stubbornly silent.

  ‘Though of course,’ Stanton continued, ‘you no doubt consider your “sister” quite safe from illness as Mistress Maria has no sisters—only a brother.’

  I was stunned into silence. Stanton waited patiently for a response as our horses battled forward through the mud, their hooves squelching and the sodden harness squeaking. I was frantic. I did not trust him. Not for one second. But I had no way of warning Mother.

  At length Mother lifted her veil and looked directly at Stanton.

  ‘I am not Maria,’ she said calmly. ‘I am Lady Elizabeth Hungerford.’

  I could not see Stanton’s face as he heard this. Surely he must be surprised. Whoever he expected to be under the veil, it could not have been my mother.

  ‘Lady Elizabeth.’ He bowed courteously. ‘A most unexpected pleasure.’

  Mother was pale, but looked quite serene. I admired her courage.

  ‘I am fleeing Farleigh for reasons of my own,’ she explained. ‘No blame attaches to my daughter.’ Stanton glanced at me, a fleeting look of surprise on his face.

  ‘Is that so?’ asked Stanton. I could clearly hear the laughter in his voice now. ‘In my experience, ma’am, Eleanor is usually in the thick of any mischief.’

  My mother paused before replying, and when she did her voice was very low.

  ‘Sir, this is no jesting matter. I have been kept a prisoner without grounds for several years, and treated most cruelly. Indeed my life was constantly in peril. Without Eleanor’s help, I would have died.’

  Stanton frowned. ‘How so, my lady? I understood you were gravely ill, and being nursed.’

  You understood no such thing, I thought. Stanton must be a good liar to sound so innocent and surprised at my mother’s words.

  ‘Not at all,’ replied Mother. She explained the truth with a quiet earnestness that defied disbelief. Her pale face, her child-like innocence, and her trembling voice all lent her story utter conviction. When she had finished, we rode in silence for some time.

  ‘I see,’ said Stanton. ‘Your tale explains much that puzzled me before.’

  ‘Are you going to ride off and tell Sir Walter where we are?’ I asked bitterly. It was the first time I had spoken since Mother lifted her veil. Stanton looked taken aback.

  ‘What makes you think that I would do that?’ he asked.

  ‘Eleanor,’ Mother reproved me, ‘that was not polite.’

  I stayed silent, but I remembered what Sir Walter had told me weeks ago. Stanton was in the plot to be rid of my mother. He was just pretending to be on our side. He would find out where we were going and betray us, I was certain of it. But it was pointless accusing him of this. He would simply deny it, in that sincere way he had that made one certain at once that he was to be trusted. Well, I would not trust him. I pressed my lips firmly together and said nothing. The next time Mother looked at me, I sent her a warning look.

  It did no good. Mother seemed to have fallen completely under Stanton’s spell. He was treating her in a respectful, deferential way, and she was smiling up at him, telling him everything. Furious with both of them, I kicked my horse on, and pulled ahead. How could she trust this man Sir Walter had foisted on me? He had tormented me at every turn.

  My clothes were now so wet, they were chafing my skin. My cloak hung heavy and cold from my shoulders, and I longed for the ride to end. I could see it was impossible to shake Stanton off now. We could neither outride him nor overpower him. We had no choice but to pretend to accept his help until such a time as he left us.

  As we approached the walls of the city of Bath, I sneezed several times. Stanton rode forward until he was beside me.

  ‘You have caught cold, Mistress Eleanor?’ he said.

  ‘I never catch cold.’

  ‘I am concerned for you. It has been a long wet ride.’

  ‘Your concern is entirely wasted. I am quite well. In fact, now that we are safely in Bath, we can dispense with your escort. Will you not leave us and ride back to Farleigh?’

  ‘I wish to see you safely bestowed. Your mother is not strong, and has already agreed to allow me to install you a
t an inn while I make enquiries for your aunt.’

  I made an angry sound in my throat. Mother was so gullible. Now Stanton would be able to tell Sir Walter exactly where we were staying.

  ‘You still do not trust me, Eleanor?’ Stanton asked softly. ‘I wish you would.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Eleanor, I must ask you something,’ said Stanton. When I did not respond, he continued anyway:

  ‘Do you intend to return to Farleigh once your mother is safe with your aunt?’

  I looked at him in astonishment. ‘Return? Of course not!’

  ‘I see. You will not have forgotten that we are to be married tomorrow. Is it only your father you are fleeing from, or is it our wedding also?’

  ‘Both,’ I said, my voice sounding tight and hard. ‘I never wanted to marry you.’ I stole a quick glance at his profile. There was a slight frown upon his face, but otherwise I could read little there. ‘And I know you did not wish to marry me either,’ I added.

  ‘That was long ago. I supposed that you and I had reached a better understanding. Was I mistaken?’ He sounded disappointed.

  ‘I can only suppose you wished to marry me for the pleasure of continuing to torment me,’ I said.

  ‘You are quite wrong. I desire your happiness as well as mine. Is there nothing I can say or do to change your mind?’ Stanton’s voice was humble. He was making this more difficult than I could have imagined possible. I clutched my reins tightly.

  ‘I just want you to leave me alone,’ I said.

  There was a pause, then Stanton said sadly: ‘I do not know if I can do that.’

  I said nothing. Was he refusing to release me? After waiting in vain for a look or a word, Stanton turned his horse about and rode back to Mother. I felt strangely bereft when I should have felt satisfied. Triumphant even. I had looked forward to this moment after all. But I did not. I felt confused and upset.

  Stanton took us to a comfortable inn where our wet and weary horses were stabled. Mother and I were shown into a private room where a warm fire burned.

  ‘You would scarce think it was June, would you, ladies?’ said the landlord, ushering us in, and bowing so low, he almost touched his knees. ‘You warm yourselves by the fire. What can I be getting you in the nature of refreshments?’

  ‘Hot wine for the ladies, please,’ Stanton replied for us. ‘And some bread and meat, if you have it.’

  ‘Oh, yes, sir,’ the landlord assured him, bowing again. ‘That we do, sir. My missus has just roasted a nice side of beef, and I said to her, I did, you mark my words … ’

  ‘Thank you, roast beef would be most welcome,’ Stanton interrupted him, holding the door open for him. ‘As soon as you can manage please. The ladies are quite famished.’

  ‘Yes, sir, at once,’ replied the landlord and hurried out. Instead of admiring the masterly way Stanton dealt with his garrulousness, I flung myself into a chair, yawned and remarked: ‘I really should have preferred ale. And chicken.’

  Stanton’s lips twitched.

  ‘You will find the hot wine and beef most sustaining however, Mistress Eleanor.’ I hunched an impatient shoulder.

  ‘Oh, yes, indeed. What luxury. You are so kind,’ murmured Mother faintly.

  ‘Can I take your wet cloak, ma’am?’ Stanton responded, all attentive kindness at once. He helped her remove it and spread it over a chair before the fire where it began to steam. ‘And yours, Eleanor?’ he asked.

  ‘I can manage myself,’ I replied ungraciously. Stanton bowed stiffly and turned back to Mother, taking her hand in his.

  ‘I hope you will be comfortable here, my lady. I will go at once and make enquiries for Lady Cranbourne. I shall return as soon as I have news.’ He kissed her hand and left. I sighed with relief as the door closed behind him.

  Mother sighed also, with relief of a different sort, as she sank into a chair by the fire. She looked almost grey with exhaustion after the long ride. ‘I do not know how I stayed in the saddle all that distance,’ she said faintly. ‘I was truly thankful for Lord Stanton’s help. But I was sorry indeed to see a daughter of mine so deficient in manners, Eleanor. Truly, you have been without a mother’s guidance for too long. What were you thinking of?’

  ‘We cannot trust him, Mother,’ I said at once. Her words had stung me and I could feel my temper rising. ‘How do you know he is not even now sending a messenger posthaste to apprise Sir Walter of our whereabouts? This could be a trap!’

  Mother waved a weary hand at me.

  ‘Not now, Eleanor,’ she said. ‘I am too tired, and thankful for the help he has given us. Without him we would be riding around Bath in the rain asking at every inn, only to find that my sister is staying with friends. Because we have met with unkindness, Eleanor, you mistrust everyone. This is a mistake. There are good people in the world too.’

  ‘I know,’ I cried. ‘But Lord Stanton is not one of them. He was in on the plot to murder you. I’m sure of it.’

  My mother looked visibly shaken. ‘Eleanor, surely not?’ she gasped turning pale.

  ‘He was. Sir Walter told me so himself! When you advised me, that night I came to the Lady Tower, to speak to my future husband about your situation, Sir Walter overheard. And he told me afterwards it would do no good, for Stanton was on his side!’

  ‘He said Stanton was aware I was to be poisoned?’

  ‘No, not exactly. But he said he knew everything.’

  ‘I think you must have been mistaken,’ my mother said anxiously. ‘Lord Stanton seems a truly good man. I am very happy to find you so eligibly betrothed.’

  I gaped at her in disbelief. ‘But I am n-not going to marry him!’ I stammered, appalled. ‘I’m running away with you!’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Mother replied with a smile. ‘But he tells me he is most desirous of marrying you, despite that.’

  ‘Mother, how could you?’ I cried. ‘Is that what you two were talking about behind my back?’ I could hardly believe what I was hearing. ‘He is an odious man, and I loathe him. I thought you of all people would understand.’

  At that moment there was a knock at the door and the landlord entered once more, carrying the hot wine. He was followed by his wife, who begged to take our cloaks and gowns for drying, and by a maid carrying plates of meat.

  There was no more opportunity to speak privately. Without Lord Stanton to rid us of him, the landlord stayed in the room. He insisted on serving us himself and on entertaining us with endless stories of lords and ladies who had honoured his inn in the past.

  I sipped the hot wine and tasted the food, but without relish. My interrupted conversation with Mother had taken my appetite from me, and there was an uncomfortable constraint between us.

  When the meal was over and the landlord had at last absented himself, Mother came over to me and embraced me.

  ‘My dearest Eleanor, let us not argue. I am so happy to be here with you. Let us leave everything else for the future.’ I hugged her back, and we sat in silence for some time side-by-side, my head resting on her shoulder. Together we watched the fire in the hearth die down to a gentle glow. It would have been peaceful but for the barely concealed anxiety we both felt at every sound of a carriage or footsteps on the street outside.

  ‘I am so afraid that Sir Walter will burst in on us at any moment,’ I admitted to Mother at one point.

  ‘I too,’ she confessed nervously. ‘It has been several hours now. I do hope your suspicions were not justified.’

  When the door at length opened, we both leapt to our feet in alarm. But a lady stood upon the threshold. I could see at a glance that she must be my aunt. She was as stout and robust as my mother was thin and frail, but she had a great look of her nonetheless.

  ‘My dear Eliza!’ she cried and enveloped Mother in a hearty embrace. Mother promptly dissolved into tears in her sister’s arms.

  ‘Oh, Jane … my dear Jane! To think … I should see you once more!’ she uttered brokenly. I offered them our seats by the fi
re and withdrew to a table by the window. I watched them happily for a few minutes, delighting in tracing the similarities between them as they hugged one another and spoke a jumble of words, neither attending greatly to the other in the first burst of their joy.

  To my annoyance, Stanton entered the room and came to join me by the window. I ignored him.

  ‘Well, Eleanor, are you not going to thank me for bringing your aunt to you?’ he asked me provocatively.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said stiffly. He smiled faintly.

  ‘I do believe you would rather hit me. Or at least knock me off my horse once more.’

  I glanced at him, surprised he should refer to that event. But there was no resentment in his face.

  ‘Shall we agree that you could have managed by yourself?’ he asked. ‘You did not need my help. But believe me; it was much better for your mother to rest quietly by the fire than to go from inn to inn in the rain.’

  I regarded him with smouldering resentment, which grew as he looked blandly back at me.

  ‘Come, Eleanor,’ he said at last. ‘We have sparred with one another long enough. Can we not at least be friends?’ He offered me his hand, and I looked at it without taking it.

  ‘I still do not know if I can trust you,’ I said bitterly. ‘So how can we be friends?’

  Stanton looked grave again in an instant and withdrew the proffered hand. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Well, there is nothing I can say to convince you. I can only trust that time will reveal the truth to you.’

  I felt embarrassed and ungracious at once. It occurred to me for the first time that my father could have lied to me. He might have told me Stanton was on his side simply to prevent me confiding in him. I no longer knew whom to believe.

  Stanton got up, and took a polite leave of my mother and my aunt, waving aside their thanks. ‘I shall do myself the honour of calling upon you tomorrow or the next day, if I may?’ he asked Mother. ‘To assure myself that you have recovered from the journey.’

  ‘Please do!’ said Mother at once. ‘We would be happy to see you.’

  I am very sure I scowled as she said this. But when Stanton came over to me and offered me his hand once more, I did not withhold mine. There was something very perverse in my nature it seemed; for I found I was disappointed when he had gone.