Once again I was cheered, as I do worry incessantly but I feel less justified when reminded of the company you keep. For though Gillet has displayed many shortcomings, his devotion to your safety is unquestionable.
Having broken my fast I returned to my now private room, happily contemplating reading through your many letters again. Lifting the lid of my coffer, I knew immediately that something was amiss. My clothing was dishevelled, the contents clearly displaced, and your missives, so lovingly penned, were gone. I searched and searched but I knew that I would not find them. I hurried back downstairs and breathlessly explained my predicament to Simon but he appeared little interested, suggesting that I look again.
‘No, you don’t understand, the documents are not misplaced, they are missing, and they lead right back to Céci.’
He looked up as the implication dawned on him. ‘You must allow me to look for myself before I begin ranting at the maids.’
We returned upstairs and, unbelievably, as he opened the coffer your letters, neatly tied together with an old ribbon, were sitting atop my spare linen nightdress.
‘They were not there five minutes ago,’ I said as I hungrily snatched them up and hugged them to my breast.
‘I don’t doubt you, Catherine. I do not believe you would invite me into your room on such a pretext.’
‘Something wrong?’ Anaïs slithered into the room, much like a serpent searching for weak and easy prey.
‘Not at all,’ replied Simon. ‘I am inspecting the hinge on this coffer.’ Bending down, he made good his ruse by slowly lifting and lowering the lid. ‘But it would appear to be in good order.’
‘Methinks it only … misbehaves … for me,’ I stammered as I struggled to lie.
‘Yes, they can be selective,’ he replied, glancing up surreptitiously, ‘but now it’s fixed we should leave it and see what happens. However, if it acts badly again I will have it removed permanently.’ Bowing low to us both, he made to leave the room but turned and addressed Anaïs, whose cheeks were crimson red. ‘You need to rest, Anaïs, as does Catherine. I suggest you return to your room and raise your feet. In your condition, your slender young ankles will swell to the size of a smithy’s neck.’ She turned abruptly on her heels and marched back down the corridor without further comment, Simon following behind her.
I closed my door and retired to the comfort of my bed. I was sure that Anaïs had taken and read at least some of the parchments. Dearest sister, I feel that I have betrayed you. How could I be so foolish as to believe that Anaïs or any one of the maids would not search out and read the secrets we have shared with each other?
I had to speak to Lord Wexford. I was beset by worry. Now Anaïs was able to confirm that you were alive, but what would she do with this information and who would she tell? My stomach rolled and my head began to ache, for I knew I had undone all the good work of Gillet.
There was a gentle tapping at my door which opened to reveal Simon’s smiling face. ‘I could not return and speak with you until I knew she had settled.’ He closed the door and sat on the stool beside my bed. ‘Do you think she had time to read any of the documents?’
‘I have no doubt. And now I have betrayed my sister. I should have been more careful.’
‘This is unfortunate, Catherine, but not unexpected. If it is any consolation, I suspect that Anaïs learned of Cécile some time ago. However, I must make every attempt to alert Gillet.’
‘The news of our father and now this.’ I wiped the stray tear from my cheek.
‘You must not blame yourself. As yet we have no proof of your parentage.’
I pray that he is right, for Lord Wexford seems to know more of Salisbury than we do. As for Anaïs, I fear that an emotion was then born inside me and was soon to fester and grow. A feeling so new to me that at first I did not recognise it, but believe it to be dislike, intense distrust. I must come to terms with this lest it develop into something far worse, hatred.
That evening I retired with your missives safely cradled within my arms, but I did not sleep for long. Halfway between matins and lauds, I was woken by one of the housemaids. She informed me that Lord Wexford had issued orders that I be waiting downstairs within ten minutes.
No candles were alight in the house and the sliver of a new moon offered no illumination. Although I could make out a great deal of movement, it was surprisingly quiet. Meeting me outside the kitchen door, Simon pulled me towards him. Placing his finger to his lips, he moved his head close by my ear, the proximity of his body causing my heart to jump wildly. Why am I still so frightened of this man?
‘I have received word that your presence here has been discovered,’ he whispered, his warm breath tickling the back of my neck. ‘We must leave now. I fear an early visit from Salisbury or Moleyns.’ I caught my breath at the sound of his name, my blood growing cold in my veins.
Anaïs was not far behind me, her footfalls and constant complaining could be heard well before she actually appeared. Seeing Simon, she stormed over to him, servants scattering in all directions.
‘What’s the meaning of this?’ she spat, hands on hips, her belly extended. ‘How dare you wake me in the middle of the night, have me forcibly dressed and readied for a journey that I do not intend to make.’
‘I have requested that you keep your voice down.’ Simon was far from amused as he stood toe to toe with her.
‘I want answers, Wexford!’ she cried, further raising her voice. ‘And if you do not give me any I will scream my head off as soon as you open that door.’ She pointed to the rear access where our belongings were stacked.
‘Silence, woman.’ The sound of his hand against her cheek stunned both Anais and the servants.
I was terrified. Lord Wexford’s furious scowl rallied his menials back into action. Panniers were loaded haphazardly onto a small cart. He assisted me on board but was not so gentle with my maid. As he dragged her through the doorway I could clearly see the glint of a dagger within his hand. Forcing her to sit beside me, he pushed himself next to Anaïs.
‘Cover your heads with your cloaks!’ he snapped as he flicked the mare with the reins. The cart moved forward. We were in a laneway, like many I had seen in London, but rather than join the main road in front of us we headed in the opposite direction, skirting the walls of the priory.
I could not stop my hands from shaking, from both the bitter cold that was seeping into my body and the dread rising from within. The roads were deserted and we travelled a good two or three miles before Simon spoke again. Anaïs sat stiff and resolute between us.
‘I have arranged for us to gain access to the rear of a friend’s inn. We will be there shortly so please refrain from speaking until we arrive.’ Although the request was polite, it was delivered as a command and, given his display of temper in the kitchen, I dared not refuse.
True to his word we were soon negotiating an even narrower laneway, whereupon Simon quickly alighted and drew open a set of heavy doors. He tethered the horse and directed Anaïs and me through a doorway, to a well-hidden room.
The fire within instantly heated my cheeks and I began to warm my hands by the flames. Anaïs moved to the far wall, her face fixed with a look of intense disdain.
‘George will be here presently with hot pottage,’ explained Simon.
‘How dare you strike me!’ Anaïs stepped from the shadows to stand directly in front of him. ‘How dare you touch me at all! I will speak to Gillet of this and he will cut out your heart with his blade.’
‘I doubt that,’ replied Simon, nonchalantly turning his back. ‘In fact I doubt it very much. I think Gillet’s reaction will be far different, particularly when I tell him that it was your loose tongue that forced us to flee London. He will not thank you for endangering his charge!’
He faced her then, his smirk gone, replaced instead by a look of contempt. ‘Let me make myself quite clear, Anaïs. If not for Gillet I would have left your worthless carcass back at the house for Salisbury’s minions to fi
nd.’ He thrust his face inches from hers. ‘You can be sure of this – the Earl would not be as gracious as I, not once he discovered that you led him on a merry chase.’
‘I did not tell anyone anything.’
‘I was contacted tonight and warned of an impending calamity. I am far more likely to believe one of my most trusted friends than a conniving upstart of a maid!’ For a moment I thought she would strike him in return.
‘You will pay for this.’
‘I expect I will, but not in the manner that you imagine.’
‘You whoring, filthy …’
‘Stop it! Stop it, both of you!’ I cried, moving to stand between them.
Lord Wexford stepped away, much to Anaïs’ glee.
The room fell silent as a small man entered carrying a tray laden with three steaming bowls and a jug of mead. He placed the refreshments on the table.
‘George!’ Simon gathered him into a smothering embrace.
‘You were not seen,’ replied the inn-keeper, his diminutive stature furnishing a nasally voice. ‘Dawn is almost upon us. They will raise the portcullis upon the gate soon. Go quickly, my friend. I must tend to my own kitchen now.’
‘Thank you, George. Your loyalty means a great deal to me.’
‘As does yours, M’lord,’ came the sincere reply.
We hurriedly consumed the welcome nourishment, then returned to the cavernous entrance to find our horse and cart had been replaced with a sturdier conveyance.
Simon donned a tabard much like I had seen his own servants wearing and covered his head with a beaver hat. He assisted Anaïs and me inside, before seating himself at the front. The chariot was garnished with a heavy leather roof and side flaps. However, both ends were open and I could clearly see the road behind us. The interior was quite sumptuous, the timber boards barely visible beneath a woven rug and the many fringed cushions, all of which Anaïs greedily arranged around herself.
The early morning rays of sunlight struggled to break the cloud cover as we set out. I could hear the caterwauling vendors and smell the vile refuse and wondered, yet again, how so many could enjoy life in London. If I had hoped for any conversation from my companion, this was not to be for she sat brooding and sullen.
It was difficult to understand the route we travelled. I suddenly regretted not thinking to inquire where we were heading but decided against traversing the moving vehicle to ask Lord Wexford.
I must have dozed for a time for I recall waking with the thought that we had left the city. The horses had quickened their pace and our conveyance rocked harder. Anaïs’ eyes were closed and I watched, bemused, as a feather caught in the top of her hood and danced this way and that.
Suddenly the coach pitched heavily. Anaïs’ eyes flew open in alarm. As we gathered speed we were tossed from our wooden seats. I could hear Simon urging the horses on and we careered even faster. I crawled to Anaïs and, taking her arm, locked us together.
Above the noise of creaking wheels I could hear a horse galloping alongside. Suddenly we were tipped sideways. A blade pierced the canopy above me. Terrified, I pulled up the corner of the rug in the hope that we could hide ourselves. Pushing the whimpering maid under the cover, I watched in horror as Simon struggled with our attacker, a knife held above his throat as we raced, out of control, at breakneck speed. Lord Wexford dropped the reins and attempted to grab the hilt of the dagger, valiantly holding the blade at bay. With a burst of strength he jerked to his feet, and the villain stumbled backwards. The man quickly regained his balance and slashed through Simon’s linen shirt to his arm. Despite the pain this injury must have inflicted, my guardian struck the man’s jaw, the blow tumbling the interloper to the ground. I gasped as Lord Wexford leaned out over the flailing hooves of the horses and retrieved the reins. He clambered back to his seat and with a quick look over his shoulder, urged the beasts on, desperate to put distance between us and our pursuer.
It was some time before Simon slowed the sweating animals. We left the road and took refuge behind a thick grove of trees. I was struck by a deep sense of pity for my maid as she lay battered and bruised upon the hard floor. Assisting her onto the seat, I repositioned the cushions and covered her with a rug.
‘Leave me alone!’ she spat.
Simon climbed into the rear of the chariot. ‘I see your spiteful tongue remains intact.’
‘Oh my Lord!’ I cried. ‘You are injured!’
‘The blade opened my arm but I do not think the wound is deep.’
Removing his shirt, Lord Wexford cut away the damaged sleeve, holding out the bloodied rag to me. ‘Here, wrap this tightly around the wound and knot it securely.’
My gaze cast down, for never had I seen a male in such a state of undress. ‘Do you know who he was, that man who attacked us?’
‘No. He may have been acting on behalf of Salisbury or the Black Prince or,’ he considered for a moment, ‘a new friend of your dear maid, perhaps. I really didn’t have time to ask. In the end it matters little. We must assume that a reward now exists. Any man in need of coin will be more than happy to slit my throat to get their hands on you.’
‘A reward?’ I had not thought it. But it did make perfect sense to pay willing men to do the dirty work for you.
‘What are we to do?’ I asked, tightly knotting the binding.
‘I know of someone who might assist us but we will not make that destination today. I had intended that we spend the night at an inn. Instead we shall now have to seek a decent barn or haystack.’
I shuddered at the thought, for though I did not mind, I could imagine the ranting of my maid.
‘Rest and stay out of sight,’ he instructed as he picked up his doublet.
Our journey continued in a more sedate fashion but now my eyes were fixed upon the faces of those who passed us. How many would recall seeing our party and seek recompense for this information? Suddenly my position seemed far more tenuous than I had previously imagined. Closeted in London I had managed to bury my fears but I could not afford to allow that to happen again.
We reached the village of Attelsdene by late afternoon and Simon spoke with a bearded cleric sitting beneath an old oak. He pointed to a group of buildings further down the road. Anaïs, aware now that we had come to a stop, sat up and took note of the surroundings. Fortunately she seemed content to remain quiet but her face betrayed her sour mood.
‘I am reliably informed that the farm ahead is deserted,’ explained Simon as he clambered on to the carriage. ‘The family who lived there died of the plague, which makes it just perfect for us.’
I could see his point. Local villagers were often unwilling to go near the houses left unoccupied by families who had died in such circumstances, so terrified were they of catching the festering disease.
‘I am not sleeping in a plague house,’ cried Anaïs from behind us.
‘Oh, don’t worry, we’re not going to stay in the house. I think the barn will be somewhat safer.’
Anaïs made no attempt to hide her disgust. However, I was weary and needed to rest, so the barn at that point sounded very inviting indeed.
In fact, it was large and draught free with an ample supply of straw. We had plenty of mead, bread and cold chicken, and I set to lighting a fire. Anaïs sat down and immediately grabbed more than her share. But her actions did not go unnoticed and Simon deftly removed the food from her hands.
‘Perhaps you could help with the bedding?’ he suggested.
Anaïs turned up her nose. ‘I am the mother of Gillet’s child. I am no longer a maid!’
‘I’ll bet you were no maid when Gillet had you either!’ he huffed, storming out.
Finishing my supper, I turned my attention to the heating of water. I ripped a portion of my chemise to produce a cloth, and with my precious almond soap was about to disappear when Simon grabbed my arm.
‘If you think you are going to slip away and wash, I advise against it.’ He smiled, that same annoying, ever present self-righteousness.
‘May I ask you, how many clean-faced itinerants did you see travelling the road today?’ It was true, of course. All the traffic I had seen were the poor and homeless, covered in dust from the roads, the dirt a mask to the misery that lay beneath.
‘Well, I am going to wash,’ cried Anaïs. She snatched the material from my hand and thrust it into the pot. She wiped her face then dropped the now filthy cloth back into what had been clean water. Poking out her tongue, she turned on her heel and flung herself upon the straw, neatly laid out by Simon. He started to rise after her but I held onto his sleeve.
‘It does not matter, let it go.’ This time it was my turn to smile.
In need of fresh air, I stepped outside.
‘Tired?’ he asked, his voice so close to my ear that I jumped with surprise.
‘I was earlier but not now.’
‘Then what is it?’
‘I believe I may have allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of security whilst in London. I did not think Lord Salisbury would go to such lengths to find me.’
‘He has eyes and ears everywhere.’
‘But why? What could he want from me?’
‘This I have been unable to ascertain.’ Turning towards the barn, Lord Wexford directed me to a bench located against the far wall. ‘With so little information available to us, we can only assume some things.’
‘Such as?’ I asked, keen to learn anything that I could.
‘You are valuable to him. But I would prefer to know precisely what he intended to do with you.’
My stomach tumbled and a wave of nausea washed over me. ‘Am I never to know peace?’
‘Is that what you had at Denny?’
‘Yes, permanency is peace, is it not? There was no question of tomorrow as each day was the same as the last. It may have been mundane but it was secure. It is hard to throw off a lifetime in just a few weeks.’
‘Yes, of course. This I do understand,’ he added. ‘But you cannot expect to experience life unless you truly live it. Have you never considered what you have missed?’
The Lily and the Lion Page 19
