Taken by surprise, I sat motionless as he devoured his meal.
‘What now?’
‘Nothing, M’lord.’
‘Then eat, before you waste away in front of my eyes.’
I picked at the bread, soaking each piece within the hot fluid before placing them in my mouth.
‘Do you have rotten teeth?’ he asked.
‘I do not think so, M’lord.’
‘Then why do you soften the dough?’
Studying the remainder of the loaf beside me, I considered my answer, unaccustomed to such conversations. ‘I sat beside Sister Bridget and she ate thus.’
‘Is she old?’
‘I suppose she is, M’lord.’
‘Did you not think to ask her?’
The idea was ridiculous. ‘I am not permitted to inquire, M’lord, only to accept.’
‘Not anymore, and stop calling me M’lord. I am Simon.’
‘Yes, M … yes.’
He smirked as I stumbled over his name. ‘So there is nothing wrong with you beside the fact that you weigh less than a sparrow.’
‘I do not know. I mean, I do not think so.’
He was watching me intently. ‘How old are you?’
‘Lady d’Armagnac, my sister, tells me that we are nineteen summers.’
‘I don’t suppose you ever thought to ask Mary St Pol yourself? No?’
I shook my head.
‘Why not?’
‘I was not permitted to speak unless spoken to.’
He huffed, as though he did not approve. ‘Smile.’ I stared at him, unable to decide exactly what he meant. ‘I want you to smile at me,’ he clarified. I raised the corners of my mouth. ‘Good Lord, that wasn’t much of an effort.’ I tried again, this time revealing my teeth. ‘They look fine to me, so, no excuses. From now on you will eat like a young woman and not an old crone.’
I nodded as he passed me the crusty end of the loaf and I broke off a small piece before placing it into my mouth. The crunch was delightful and I relished the sensation. ‘Why do you blaspheme?’ I inquired cautiously.
‘That is your first question to me? Why do I blaspheme?’ He burst into laughter, slapping his hand to his thigh. ‘God knows, my dear. God knows!’
I am unsure what to make of this Lord Wexford, for I cannot tell if his mirth is at my expense or the ideals that I hold precious.
Several days later, as I prepared to undertake my own form of vespers, I was surprised to hear the sound of Gillet’s voice. I ventured from my room to greet him but Anaïs informed me that both he and Lord Wexford had just left for the tavern. However, he had delivered your missive so I returned to read in peace.
Dearest sister, I cried tears of sorrow for you. How could a man take such liberties? Is there no other way? As I prayed to the Lord to guide and protect you the image of Gillet appeared before me. Here was the answer. I would have to make him return to Paris without delay. I waited patiently to plead your case and beg his assistance but the hours passed and I finally took to my bed to rest, only to be woken some time later by the sounds of music and laughter floating up to my window from the boisterous gathering in the open square below.
I quickly established the reason for such merriment, the beautifully adorned pole standing erect at the centre of the square, the maiden on horseback, the fires, music, wine and dancing. This was the Feast of Beltane, of which I had heard so much but never seen. As a member of the convent I was strictly forbidden to attend, relying instead on Anaïs to explain the ancient ritual to me, she having participated many times before.
The celebrations were well under way with young maidens weaving their ribbons around the pole, their bodies swaying in time to the beat. A number of hand-fast couples were making the leap of fertility over the open flames of the balefire. As I watched, one man seemed to be somewhat reluctant to stand up for his turn, his persistent partner tugging on his sleeve. I could not help but smile at his third attempt to lift the large wine flagon from his shoulder to his mouth, whilst the maiden beside him struggled to wrestle it away. Having succeeded, she turned him around to make the jump. You can imagine my surprise, for when their faces were lit by the flames, I could clearly see that it was Anaïs, and her drunken partner was none other than Gillet!
I quickly closed the shutters, confused by my reaction and the pounding of my heart and it was some time before I once again fell asleep.
Much later I was woken by a persistent noise, like the hissing of a snake and candlelight now seeped under my closed door where earlier it had been almost dark. Rising from my bed, I ventured into the dining area only to discover Anaïs struggling with an intoxicated Gillet, taking most of his weight. I trembled to imagine how she had managed to get him up the stairs. He did not appear to be in his right senses, swinging his goblet and singing a bawdy song. Anaïs was vainly trying to quiet him but her constant appeals to shush were ignored.
‘Ah, Sister Mary Catherine,’ he bellowed. ‘A drink, to Cécile and her sister, the golden-haired goddesses of Beltane.’ His attempt at a bow nearly landed him headlong into the table and he would have lost his footing but for my maid. I rushed to help, fearing he was about to injure himself. As I did so he reached for a lock of my newly exposed hair.
‘No, Catherine the goddess,’ he slurred. In the blink of an eye his face changed to a wicked sneer. ‘Cécile the whore,’ he spat.
I pulled back, surprised by his venom.
‘Go back to bed,’ soothed Anaïs. ‘I can manage Gillet for he is not as drunk as he appears.’
He straightened slowly. ‘No, I am not,’ he replied. ‘Go away and leave me to my own distractions.’
Obliging him, I tentatively sought Lord Wexford who was residing in the room next to mine. However, the door was open and the bed empty. I had no idea where he was and with few options available I returned to my own accommodation.
It was some time later that I realised all was quiet, yet light still continued to creep under my door. Anaïs had forgotten to extinguish the candle so I once again rose and went to snuff it out. I must warn you that what I am to write next will be quite shocking, so much so that it has taken me many hours to decide how, in fact, I should describe to you that which I inadvertently stumbled upon.
As I bent to blow out the flame, I heard a low moan from the open door of Gillet’s room. Fearing that he may have been unwell, the result of earlier festivities, I crossed the common room and peered inside. I must admit to you that at first I was a little confused and unable to establish exactly what I was witnessing. For I could not see Gillet on the bed, only Anaïs dressed in nothing but her chemise.
I was about to enter when I noticed the strangeness of her posture. She was kneeling over something, her clothing hitched up to her waist. I froze, whether in fear or shame I cannot tell, but my heart was racing and my legs became weak. She was rocking gently backwards and forwards, whispering endearments in French. She moved to one side and I caught a glimpse of dark hair upon the pillow. Anaïs was crouched over a man! Then her partner groaned, his face visible in the dim light and I realised with deep shock that it was Gillet! And this was fornication! Anaïs lifted his arm and placed his hand to her breast, calling his name, encouraging him, stroking his face. I was appalled for a man such as Gillet to so easily bed my maid.
Anaïs must have heard me for she turned just before I slipped back behind the doorway. Her expression was unforgettable as Gillet grabbed her hips, manipulating her movements and moaning loudly. She was enjoying her pleasure, she was shameless, but most of all she was triumphant.
I hurriedly returned to my room and firmly latched the door. I cannot tell you why I was so fearful but all night I paced, praying for the saving of their souls. Lady Mary had instructed me at length on the sinfulness of procreation. Had they been man and wife, I would be able to find some forgiveness but to willingly commit the act whilst unwed was wicked indeed.
By the time I arose both Gillet and Simon were absent. Anaïs served
my meal as though this were no different from yesterday. I cannot believe that she can be unchanged after such an immoral event, unless I am so immature as to assume that this has not happened before. Could it be that Gillet and Anaïs have come together previously or even regularly? There can be no other explanation, for surely one must be different, altered, after committing such a dreadful deed and yet Anaïs could not appear less ordinary.
‘Gillet will soon be returning?’ I asked, watching her face intently.
‘I suppose so,’ she replied without looking up from her mug of mead.
‘Did he not tell you when?’
‘Not really. He speaks more to you than to me.’
‘But I thought as you are close he would tell you more.’
‘You assume incorrectly.’ Anaïs stared long and hard at me then drained her goblet. ‘Some say Gillet is very handsome. Some say he sits fine on a horse. I say he sits better on a woman, but like all men he often needs encouragement.’ Her sneer was unmistakable.
She knew that I knew!
And I was mortified!
‘My dear, devoted Sister Mary Catherine,’ she continued, ‘so innocent and so naïve. You think us all free from sin and accept all that you have is honestly obtained. You will learn and you will do so quickly. When you want something from a man you must pay a price.’
‘I am sure I do not know your meaning.’ I fought against the feeling of dread slowly seeping through my chest and fumbled for my concealed rosary as Anaïs sauntered from the room.
Near the noon hour Gillet finally appeared, his glossy locks still wet and his face freshly shaved, yet nothing seemed to have washed away his unhappiness.
‘Catherine, I find you well?’ he asked somewhat tersely.
‘You do,’ I replied as confidently as I was able, fighting the sickening feelings in my belly.
‘I only ask as you seem strained.’
‘I fight a demon that wishes to fly forth in anger at you.’
He had been staring intently through the open window but now spun to face me, quite surprised. ‘I should have not spoken so harshly to you before I departed for London but I do not think you understood the danger in which you placed yourself.’
I did not reply, waiting instead for him to continue.
‘I am glad to see that you have obeyed my instructions and continue to dress as a maiden.’
I closed my eyes, unable to face his scrutiny as he took in my headdress, the ruffled cap and veil that barely covered the hair spilling out across my shoulders.
‘Catherine, you have no reason to feel shame.’
‘Perhaps, but you do,’ I whispered. ‘To lie with my maid, under the roof that I share was a sinful act.’
His brows arched in astonishment. ‘Anaïs told you?’
‘No, I saw you upon your bed. I feel that under the circumstances it would be inappropriate for me to accept your assistance or protection. I will pray for your soul and that of Anaïs on your departure to France, where your act of redemption will be the safe return of my sister to her French family.’ I waited for his reply, unsure of what his reaction would be and was not surprised by the curses that flew from his mouth, nor the slamming of his fist onto the tabletop. ‘Gillet, it is no longer appropriate for me to continue this discussion,’ I said, rising to my feet and turning to leave.
‘No! Wait! I admit that I did lay with Anaïs but it was not my intent to do so or for you to be hurt by this knowledge. When I returned from Paris I was angry, disappointed, and I wanted nothing more than to forget. I have known your companion for many years. She was originally employed as a maid by my father. She has never hidden her feelings for me and in the past it has given me comfort to speak with her about my home. You see, I was forced to leave Gascogne and was lucky enough to be given into the employment of Mary St Pol. As fate would have it Anaïs had been transferred to the Abbey several years earlier.’
‘Did Lady Mary know of your association?’
‘No, I kept it hidden from her. At that time I only longed for conversation and a friendly face.’
The inn was quiet, the room stilled by the steady flow of Gillet’s calming voice. ‘I could not have foreseen what was to occur between you and Salisbury and your flight with Anaïs, nor that Lady St Pol would make me your protector.’
‘Deceit then,’ I replied quietly, watching his face, ‘for Lady Mary would not have done so had she known the truth.’
‘A common weapon used by many,’ interjected Lord Wexford who had slipped unnoticed into the room. ‘Sit down!’
Obeying his command I selected a seat as far as possible from both men.
‘On the matter of deception, young lady, I have only just learned that you met with a man at this very inn.’
‘Who?’ Taken by surprise, Gillet’s anger quickly resurfaced.
‘Lord John Moleyns.’
‘What? I told you to remain hidden, to take care!’
‘He was most helpful,’ I defended, anxious at the displeasure of both men. ‘I did not disobey you. I did not leave the inn. He did me no harm. He was kind and thoughtful.’
‘Moleyns is Salisbury’s dog and we have no idea the length of his leash!’ stated Lord Wexford. ‘We have to leave and soon, before he returns with his pack of hounds. I suggest we retire to my residence in London, where I will be able to call upon further support.’
‘Agreed, I will make arrangements,’ added Gillet
‘But what of my sister?’
‘What of her?’ I could not mistake the tone in Gillet’s voice. He was most unhappy with you. ‘You berate me, Catherine, but your sister chose the bed in which she now lies. Send your sanctimonious recriminations to her!’
‘No! You judge her wrongly! Salisbury dispatched news of me to the Black Prince. When Cécile refused the Prince’s advances, he used this knowledge to bend her to his will.’
Gillet’s head shot up, his eyes boring into mine. ‘What are you telling me?’
‘Our future monarch is holding Cécile against her will,’ I clarified.
‘That cannot be,’ he exclaimed, rising to his feet. ‘I saw her myself, locked in her lover’s arms, baring her breast for his suckling!’
My cheeks reddened. ‘She sinned, yes, but she tried to tell you, Gillet, she came to your room and …’
‘Are you suggesting that your sister is innocent?’
My chin lifted with indignation. ‘Monsieur de Bellegarde, I can assure you that prior to you departing the inn my sister’s virtue was completely intact.’
He wrenched a chair from the floor and hurled it across the room. The small pile of timber created seemed somewhat trifling considering the extent of the damage caused. Never have I seen a man so affected by a single statement, for where he had been forlorn and contrite, now he was angry, even vicious, with your captor. ‘I’ll cut off his balls for this! Sew them into a coin pouch for Sunday services!’
‘Come, lad, be wise with your words,’ Lord Wexford offered. ‘I understand your fury but you need to contain it until we know the truth of the matter.’
‘Gillet, that is not all,’ I continued, shaken by his display. ‘It was not only my safety he threatened, for he claimed that he was to have you arrested and tortured. Under the circumstances, Cécile felt she had little choice.’
‘How like our noble Prince,’ hissed Gillet.
‘Return to Paris and seek an audience.’ Lord Wexford grasped the younger man’s arm and their eyes locked. ‘If the lady in question complied with her royal captor under duress, perhaps she might now be in need of your services.’ With his temper cooled Gillet seemed willing to listen to advice. The forgiveness I had battled to find suddenly burst forth. I am sure that his actions of late have been much against his character and are more a reflection of his recent experiences than anything else. I accept that he regrets his coupling with Anaïs and I pray for the souls of both in this matter, as circumstances allow for each and every one of us to make mistakes.
&nbs
p; Before me was a man much changed, ravaged by guilt and burdened with sorrow. He leaves this evening to return to Paris.
Lord Wexford, Anaïs and I are away to London. Dressed as peasants, we are to depart on the morrow as the sun reveals the new day.
For the meeting with Lord Moleyns, I am in disgrace.
I remain most unsure of my new guardian. I cannot tell if his behaviour is unusual or reflects that of most men. My experience is wanting. He continues to question me and have me reply. Similarly, he expects me to frame my own thoughts and to share them! The Lady Mary lectured novices of the sinfulness of individual ideas as an evil and imperious act. Yet I have considered much this last week and do not feel in the least dogmatic. However, I do see her point. Though not evil, Lord Wexford is certainly arrogant.
My dearest, before I conclude I feel that I must offer you a reprieve, for I have prayed for guidance and our Lord has answered me. My childhood, though strict, was both demanding and rewarding. Given your current circumstance and the difficulties that lay ahead, I urge you to consider dedicating your life to the church for there you will find peace, acceptance and forgiveness and the fear of further conjugal unions will be removed. I am sure that Mary St Pol will give her blessing and recommendations. I will await your reply and continue to pray for the forgiveness of our sins.
Your beloved Sister Mary Catherine.
Written from the King’s Arms, village of Aylesbury, 3 May, two days after the Feast of the Apostles, Saint Philip and Saint James the Less, 34 Edward III.
The dilapidated cart had cost Lord Wexford far more than he would normally agree to part with, but he doubted that the skinny novice could ride. He had considered placing her on his mount but the idea of having her so close bothered him. Reaching for the ale, he made to fill the tankard but instead stayed his hand. He needed a clear head and a sure arm.
Simon sat back upon the bed and drew his hands through his hair. If he knew then what he did now, would he have agreed to become involved? He honestly doubted it. These girls were trouble. He could feel it in his bones.
The Lily and the Lion Page 7
