by Sole, Linda
‘We shall be married in Winchester,’ he promised as he stroked her silken skin. ‘And if she lives I swear that I shall find our child. The past will be forgot. Nothing matters to me now but you, my dearest love.’
Beth clung to him as he loved her, finding more pleasure in his touch than she had ever known or dreamed of. Tears were on her cheeks as he possessed her, bringing her to such sweet joy that she cried out and her nails lightly raked his shoulder.
Was such pleasure a sin? Was such a love meant to be? She could hardly believe that what was happening to her now was real and felt suddenly afraid that life would snatch away the happiness she had found with her knight.
Fifty Five
‘Tomas…’ Beatrice ran to him as he entered the solar carrying something wrapped in a woollen shawl. ‘Your letter said…Is it true? Have you found Elspeth’s child?’
‘Look at her, Beatrice, and tell me what you see.’
Beatrice took the bundle of child and shawl into her arms, gazing down at the babe’s sweet face. Her skin was creamy soft and she had pink roses in her cheeks, her eyes bright blue and her hair fine and silky, gleaming in the light of the candles like a shaft of moonlight. Yet there was something in the set of her features that made the grandmother gasp.
‘Richard – there is something of Richard in her. I cannot place it and yet ‘tis there – about the mouth and the cast of her brow.’ Tears stung her eyes as she looked up at him, her voice hoarse with emotion. ‘How can I ever thank you? This is such a precious gift. Have you heard nothing more of Elspeth?’
‘I sent out messengers asking for news of her but no one had seen anything. It seems strange, Beatrice, for I would not have thought she could hide herself away so completely. I have men searching for her still but I make no promises. If she thinks that she killed Sir William she may not dare to show herself. To come so close and then to be denied – it breaks my heart.’
‘You will not give up?’
‘Sister Isolde says that she will send word if she hears aught of our daughter, my dearest one. She was loath to let me bring the child lest Beth should come for her, but I persuaded her that Katharine would be best with us.’
‘Katharine? She hath a name fitting for a queen.’ Beatrice bent to kiss the child’s sweet face. ‘She is so beautiful, much like her mother as a child, but with more of Richard about her.’
‘Anyone who knew him well would see it, but we shall keep the secret, Beatrice. I would not lose her to an enemy.’
‘Never!’ A look of fear entered Beatrice’s eyes. ‘Do not fret, Tomas. I have learned my lesson. I am content to have my granddaughter – though I would know that Elspeth is safe.’
‘If God is with us we may find her yet. I brought the babe to you, Beatrice, and I shall rest here for a few days, but then I must go to Winchester again. I have heard from my man of law that there is something we need to know concerning your brother’s estate. He had no children of his own and I think it may come to you, unless he hath made a will naming some other beneficiary.’
‘My brother was wealthy I believe but we have enough for our needs, Tomas. If Hugh intended me to have something he will have left word of it with his man of business.’
‘Well, I shall see what my agent hath to say and afterwards I may call upon Sir William at his manor. He was unwell when I was there before and could not see me, but I shall seek him out and ask what he knows of Elspeth. He may be able to cast some light upon her whereabouts – and by then my men may have found some trace of her. I cannot understand why none have seen her. A woman travelling alone and searching for a lost child ought to be found easily enough.’
‘Perhaps she is not alone,’ Beatrice said. ‘Could she have gone with the father of her child?’
‘No one seems to know who the father might be.’ Tomas frowned. ‘I spoke with a woman of the village – Mistress Grey she was called. She knew Beth better than most and told me that the child’s father was a knight, but she could not name him. Beth had told her so much but no more.’
‘She lived alone in the wood. She may not have known who the knight was – he might have…’ Beatrice bent to kiss the child. ‘No, such a lovely babe could only be born of love. I shall pray that my daughter is with the man she loves and that he cares for her. If God is good one day we shall restore her child to her.’
‘Amen to that,’ Tomas said and smiled. ‘Tell me, where are our boys, Beatrice? I have brought gifts that will please them. A sword for Tom and a long bow for Henry.’
‘They were playing in the courtyard an hour ago. No doubt you will find them with the men for they spend all their hours training with them, preparing for their knighthood.’
‘First they must become squires to a lord and earn their spurs,’ Tomas said and his smile faded. ‘Tom is old enough to leave us, Beatrice. I have delayed his going because I knew it would pain you, but he frets here and I must let him go soon.’
‘You will not let him go to war, Tomas? The King continues his fight with the French, though for the moment there is a truce with Charles of France. Let Tom go to someone who prefers the court to the field of battle.’
‘I shall make inquiries when I am at Winchester,’ Tomas promised her. ‘Remember they are young men, Beatrice. You cannot tie them to your skirts for they would not thank us.’
‘I know.’ She smiled at him. ‘I am a foolish woman, Tomas. You must do as you think best for our sons – and now I think this sweet babe smells not so sweet and needs her cloths changing.’
‘Her nurse is somewhere about. Send for her to take the babe.’
‘I shall take her to the nursery myself. It is a while since I bathed a child but I do not think I have forgot.’
Fifty Six
‘Are you content here?’ Ruth looked up as Sir William came up to her. She was sitting in the solar alone, a piece of embroidery on a frame before her. She paused, her needle and thread in her hand. ‘Beth said that you lacked things. It was my intention to send to Winchester for silks and perhaps a book that you might share. This is your home now and it would please me to see you happy here.’
‘I am content enough, cousin,’ Ruth replied. ‘A book of French verse would be a pleasure for me and silks for my embroidery would be a joy.’
‘Would you like to journey to Winchester with me? I will inquire after a book of verse, if one may be found and you can choose your silks while I attend to other business. Your mother too if she wishes.’
‘Mother would not care for it, but I should like to accompany you,’ she said. ‘I could order other things your steward says we need for our stores – if you wish it?’
‘Why not? This house has needed a woman’s touch for too long. Father neglected domestic affairs after my mother died and I think I have not been much better. In the spring I shall join the King once more in France and fight as a mercenary. You will be in charge here then, Ruth.’
‘Should that duty not fall to Mother?’
‘I do not trust her. She poisoned my mind against Beth and in my anger I hurt her. Because of that I lost the only woman I shall ever love. No, your mother shall never rule here. You may be my chatelaine if you wish it, Ruth – but your mother is only here because she claims kinship and I must help her for pity’s sake.’
‘I shall come with you to Winchester,’ Ruth said. ‘If you wish me to be your chatelaine while you are absent you must make it plain to Mother and your steward – but I pray you say nothing until after Christ’s Mass. Let us make it a celebration if we can, though I know you grieve for Beth.’
‘Her father has taken her daughter to his home. Lord Tomas wrote to me, telling me that she was found, and safe with her family. I would to God that I could hear as much of Beth. I fear for her alone and wandering. She is too beautiful and men will seek advantage of her.’
‘You loved her very much.’ Ruth stood up and touched his arm. ‘I am sorry for what happened. I cared for her too. Those who name her a witch are fools. She was inn
ocent, still a child in many ways though she had borne a child.’
‘I loved her more than my life. I would have died for her,’ William said and the grief was in his eyes. ‘I was a fool and I hurt her and so lost her. I may never love again, yet one day I must get an heir if the title and lands are not to pass to the King. I think I must be wed, Ruth.’
‘You must look for a kind woman who cares for you, cousin.’
‘Yes – one day,’ he said and sighed. ‘I shall not keep you from your sewing, Ruth. Your work is fine. What are you making now?’
‘A hanging for your hall,’ Ruth replied and smiled. ‘Mother is helping me with it. We are grateful that you took us in, cousin, and would repay your generosity.’
‘It was little enough. Excuse me now.’
Ruth watched as he left the solar, listening to the sound of his steps as he hastened down the stone steps of the tower. She thought that she liked William more now than she had when they first came to live under his roof. He had seemed a stern harsh man and undoubtedly could be hard when he chose, but since he had been ill she had seen another side of his character. She did not doubt that he sincerely grieved for Beth and regretted that he had hurt her. He was not a bad man, just careless and perhaps he had loved too much.
She was not sure that Beth would have been the right wife for him, because she had seen unease in the girl’s eyes when William touched her. She might have wed him out of gratitude but that was surely not enough for marriage.
Sighing, Ruth turned back to her sewing. She was unlikely to marry now and must make the most of her time here. She would enjoy wearing the keys of the castle on her chatelaine, though it would anger her mother to see Ruth placed above her. Yet she knew that Sir William suffered Ann Redfern here only because he thought it his duty. If he decided to send them away he could do so at any time.
‘Why am I not to accompany my daughter to Winchester?’ Ruth saw her mother’s angry look and sighed inwardly. ‘It is not fitting that you should go with him without me to chaperone you.’
‘I shall have my maidservant, Gwenda, who will sleep in my bed and protect my modesty,’ Ruth said and smiled wryly. ‘Sir William hardly notices me, Mother. This is a rare invitation and I shall not miss it because it wounds your pride. My cousin will not insult me in any way and I shall return as I am, virgin and like to remain so until my death.’
‘You speak foolishly, daughter.’ Her mother glared at her. ‘I suppose I cannot forbid you if he hath requested your presence. If you have any sense you will use your time wisely. William needs a wife and now that witch has gone he may take you if you please him.’
‘I am not sure that I should wish to be William’s wife,’ Ruth replied. ‘Beth was not a witch, Mother. Please mend your tongue or my cousin may send us away. He grieves for her and I would not have him wounded by your spite.’
‘No, you would find her and welcome her back with open arms if you could,’ Ann said bitterly. ‘I shall not waste my breath on you, daughter. If you cannot see the benefits of being his wife rather than a poor relation you are no child of mine.’
‘Forgive me,’ Ruth said and smiled at her. There was no reasoning with her mother and she wasted her breath to try. ‘Tell me, Mother, what may I bring you from Winchester?’
‘I want for nothing that you will give me,’ Ann said and turned away. ‘Remember my words, daughter. Sir William will leave in the spring to fight again in Henry’s wars. If he should die we might be turned from our home once more with hardly a shilling to clothe and feed ourselves.’
‘I am not afraid to work for my living, Mother.’
‘There is no talking to you. Have done, my patience is ended.’
Ruth shook her head as her mother stalked from the room. She knew that nothing would content her mother but to see her the mistress here but even if Ruth were prepared to wed him, she did not think Sir William would ask. He might appreciate her qualities but it was Beth he loved. He would not give up hoping for her return until he had proof that she was dead.
‘I pray that she is safe and well,’ Ruth said. ‘I wish you were here, Beth – but if you will not come I wish you happy.’
Fifty Seven
Beth stood staring up at the east tower. Ravens were perched high on the crenellated battlements, their calling harsh on the morning air. The sound might easily be taken for a scream or a demon’s wailing. Icy winds curled about her and she pulled her cloak tighter around her body, relishing the feel of the soft wool as she put up her hood, which was lined with miniver. Raoul had given her clothes, gowns of silk and velvet that were more beautiful and costly than she had seen before.
‘These were my mother’s,’ he told her. ‘Your serving woman will help you alter them to fit you. When we visit Winchester I shall buy you gowns and silks fitting for my wife, but for now these are better than the gown you had when I found you.’
‘It was a fine gown once but was spoiled when they took me for a witch,’ Beth told him. ‘These things are beautiful and I am happy to wear what was once your mother’s.’
‘There are even finer things packed into coffers somewhere, but they belonged to Angeline and I would not give you those. My mother’s ghost will not haunt you, Beth. She was a good woman and would be happy to see us wed.’
‘Need we be haunted by Angeline’s ghost?’ Beth asked. She gazed up at him, willing him to listen and not turn away as he was wont to do when she spoke of his father’s wife. ‘Will you not have her remains buried in the churchyard? Let the priest say prayers for her soul and then perhaps she may rest in peace.’
‘Do not plead for her, Beth. You do not know what you ask.’
‘You have done much good work here, my lord. Yet some of your people live in fear of the demon that lives in the tower. They hear Angeline moaning in her torment. I have seen them glance over their shoulders at night in fear. There is still talk of a curse and they say that her ghost screams night after night.’
‘They are superstitious fools,’ Raoul said, his mouth set in an angry line. ‘Do not speak of this again. She stays where she is and I care not if her soul burns in hell. Soon we shall leave for Winchester and I shall not come here again.’
‘What of your people? Must they go in fear and suffer for…’
‘For my sins, Beth?’ Raoul’s eyes glinted with temper. ‘Have a care, my sweet lady. I do love you truly but I shall hear no more of this.’
Beth had given way, because she could not bear that Raoul should be angry with her. Angeline was a murderess and had deserved to be punished, but Beth feared that the lady’s soul was in torment and would never know rest until her bones were taken from the tower and laid to rest in sanctified ground. The priest had rejected Beth that day in church and she had no cause to love him or his kind but at Sir William’s castle Beth had seen paintings of Jesus Christ and his gentle face had touched her heart. If he had died for mankind he was good and generous, unlike the priests who preached of hell and practised a religion of their own making. She believed that Angeline’s spirit would lie peacefully in the arms of that gentle god. Perhaps then Raoul would cease to cry out at night.
Looking up at the tower, she laid a hand against the stone, whispering a prayer.
‘I pray that you may find peace, lady,’ she said. ‘Forgive him if you can for I know he will never forgive himself.’
For a moment her palm seemed to burn and she trembled as she sensed a dark angry force, hatred so bitter and menacing that she was chilled. She drew her hand away swiftly.
‘Beth – are you ready to leave?’
She turned as she heard Raoul’s voice calling to her and ran across the courtyard towards him. ‘Forgive me, my lord. I did not mean to keep you waiting.’
‘What were you doing by the east tower?’
‘I wandered there in a dream,’ she said and turned to look at the horse she was to ride. Raoul had provided her with a white palfrey, but as yet she could not ride alone and must go pillion behind a groo
m. ‘Will you help me up, my lord?’
‘Forget her and look toward the future, as I mean to,’ he said, his eyes intent on her face. ‘We shall be wed as soon as I can find a priest to marry us in the cathedral, so that all know I honour you. I shall give you a gown, such as you have never seen, and jewels fit for a queen.’
‘I am not a queen, merely a woman.’
‘To me you are a queen – and mayhap that is truer than you imagine.’
‘What mean you, my lord?’
‘Why nothing but that I love and honour you,’ he said and smiled as he lifted her up behind the groom. ‘We shall not return here. Forget this place, Beth. After Winchester we go to London and from there to Normandy.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Beth smiled at him, but then shivered as she glanced back towards the tower. Was it imagination or did she see a dark shadow cast upon the ground? Her back felt cold and prickly and she was suddenly afraid, though she did not know why. Yet she felt that they had missed a chance to put right a terrible wrong. Raoul had refused to have Angeline’s bones retrieved and buried in Holy ground and Beth felt that they had angered the lady’s spirit. It was foolish to feel such dread but the feeling grew stronger as they rode away. Raoul was right. She must put all thought of Angeline from her mind and think of the future, but she felt sick to her stomach. Raoul was wrong to allow the injustice to continue. Angeline had sinned but he should have relented; he should have given her soul rest. He had refused and Beth was afraid that she would take a terrible revenge on them.
The feeling of fear stayed with Beth for most of the morning, but in the afternoon the sun shone and it felt warm on her face despite the crisp winter air. As the distance between them and the Castle D’Avignon lengthened her fears subsided and she laughed at herself. How foolish she was. The superstition and fears of the people there had infected her but now they were falling away, becoming merely shadows in the backwaters of her mind. Once they were wed and in France she would forget the castle and the tales of haunting. Raoul needed help to forget his own demons and she would not help him by pleading Angeline’s cause. He wanted only to forget, to be at peace with himself. Perhaps he had right on his side. If Angeline had murdered her husband so foully she deserved to be punished – but not for the whole of eternity.
