Beloved Abductor (13 page)

‘I wish I could be sure of that but you know that she had convinced herself that the blame for what he did lies at my door.’ Felicia sighed, staring unseeingly at a bed of thyme.

‘Are you thinking that she might do something crazy to prevent us from marrying?’

She looked up at him. ‘You do understand.’

He nodded. ‘But that does not mean that I believe you should surrender to your cousin’s moods. Besides Dickon seems to have taken her in hand and he has a way with women. Perhaps it comes from having a sister.’

Dismay clouded Felicia’s brow. ‘Nell thinks that you and she ...’

‘Would marry? Is that what she told you?’ He gave an exasperated grunt.

‘No, she did not, but I thought ...’

‘Perhaps it would be better if you thought less. It was always Steven for Nell. She will shed no tears for me.’

‘Steven?’ For a moment she thought of the man she had seen earlier beneath her window. ‘Is he the lover as fair as an angel whom she told me about—the man her father would not let her marry?’

Edmund grinned suddenly. ‘Is that what Nell called him? He would not like that: he hated his handsome visage! Did she talk much about him?’

Felicia’s concern was assuaged. ‘No, but I think she still cares for him. It is a pity he does not know she is a widow. Nell said that he followed the Montfort. Have you ever heard from him?’

‘No. We had an almighty disagreement—he and I, and Dickon.’ He shrugged. ‘But it is no use our being concerned about that now. We can do nothing for either of them.’ He paused by a wooden bench set against the wall of a building. ‘My uncle is here inside the infirmary, so I will go and fetch him.’ He kissed her and vanished inside.

Her head was in a whirl. She wondered what would happen to Meriet if her cousin survived the conflict and fought in the courts over its possession. Or if he were to attempt to overset her marriage. Was she doing the right thing? How would Joan react to her news?

*

Joan stared down at the fish swimming like lazy shadows in the pond. Dickon watched her expressive face, guessing that her private grief had her in its hold, but he doubted she would give in to it in front of him.

Suddenly she glanced up at him. ‘Should we be here?’

He shrugged. ‘I used to come here often when I was a boy. Edmund and I used to try and catch the fish before the monks caught us.’

She moved away from the pond. ‘I wonder where Flissie is?’

‘Perhaps she is with Edmund,’ said Dickon, following her.

Joan’s eyes darkened and she hurried along the path.

They came to the gate at the far end of the garden. Dickon unlatched it, standing aside to allow Joan to go before him. But she just stood there, staring at him. ‘Philip took me in place of Flissie. He wanted her, just like you and your friend do. I have seen the way you look at her. And as for Master Edmund, he kisses and cuddles her, but I deem he will use her and toss her aside, as Philip did me.’

‘You’re wrong on two counts.’ Dickon’s voice was firm. ‘I have no designs on Felicia. As for Edmund, he is not a man for picking up folk and tossing them aside.’

‘But would you not agree that he wants her?’ Joan lowered her eyes and fiddled with a ring on her finger. ‘Philip would kill him if he knew he had laid a hand on Flissie. He is mad with jealousy.’

‘How will he get to know?’ Dickon asked matter-of-factly. ‘Unless the birds are his spies.’ He took her by the arm and urged her through the gate.

They did not speak again as they walked slowly between the banks of plants in the herbarium. Every now and again, Joan would pause and finger a leaf. Was it among plants that her cure lay? A garden was a restful place, although its healing often lay in hard work and helping others with its bounty. Maybe at Chipbury, with Felicia’s help, she would find peace of mind? both thought.

There came a murmur of voices, and both realised that they had reached the infirmary. Sitting outside on a bench in the late sun were Felicia, Edmund and the lord abbot. Felicia got to her feet, a mixture of relief and anxiety on her face. She came towards them and slipped a hand through Joan’s arm.

‘You are feeling better now?’ she whispered.

Joan nodded, watching Dickon as he made a reverence towards the abbot.

‘How are you, Richard? And how is the business?’ Walter’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘Could I interest you in some of the finest wool in the realm?’

‘Perhaps some time in the future, my lord abbot. Edmund has told you what we are about?’

Walter nodded. ‘And now he has fresh news for you. I will leave him to tell you.’

‘My lord abbot, I would make my cousin Joan known to you,’ said Felicia, swiftly pulling her forward, ‘and ask your prayers for us both.’

Joan made a reluctant reverence, but as she rose her eyes went almost involuntarily to the abbot’s face. She felt a tremor in her limbs at his look of warm understanding. He knew her sin, but he did not scorn or blame her as some churchmen would have done. She was reminded of her own father and how he had always been ready to comfort her after some misdemeanour, unlike her mother, who had despised her for being a girl. She kissed his ring fervently and for the moment she forgot about her grievances.

The abbot held up his hands in a blessing, then turned and went into the infirmary.

Dickon turned to Edmund. ‘What is this news that the abbot spoke of?’

Edmund opened his mouth to answer, then realised that Felicia was slanting him a warning look. Her eyes flicked briefly towards Joan. ‘Let us go on ahead of the women,’ he said. ‘I need to wash some of the dust from me, having had no chance before. I shall tell you on the way.’

Dickon nodded.

Felicia watched the two men walk away, their heads together as they talked. She felt a tug on her sleeve and turned to Joan who said, ‘I deem they have already forgotten us.’

Felicia smiled. ‘Most likely.’ She was relieved that her cousin’s bad mood seemed to have lifted. ‘What do you think of this garden? Is it not beautiful?’ She put her hand through Joan’s arm. ‘Perhaps, at Chipbury, we can see what can be done to the garden. It is two years since I have been there, and I know not its state, although Thomas, my bailiff, and his wife, Emma, have been entrusted with the care of the property.’

A smile of pure pleasure lit Joan’s face. ‘It will be good to be together again, just the two of us. You did say that the men will be going to Gloucester?’

Felicia agreed. ‘It is not so far from Chipbury.’

‘Do you think they will come back and see how we fare?’ Joan’s brow puckered, and for a moment there was an expression in her eyes that caused Felicia some concern. Then it vanished and Joan began to talk about the healing power of certain herbs.

Felicia wondered if Joan had really understood that Edmund and Dickon were going off to war and might possibly never return. She felt a lump in her throat, remembering the desolation she had felt when the news had come that her father and brother were dead. God willing, she would not have to suffer such sorrow again.

‘I wonder what there will be for supper,’ Joan murmured as they came to the gate. She paused, a hand on the wicket gate. ‘Before your arrival at Meriet, I often went hungry. I deem myself far too thin.’

‘Well, we can soon remedy that!’ Felicia chuckled. ‘If I remember one good thing about Chipbury, it is that Emma is a paragon of a cook who enjoyed nothing better than trying to fatten me up.’ She gave her cousin a push that sent her flying through the gateway. Joan began to run, laughing as she did so, with Felicia in hot pursuit. For a moment they were girls again.

Not long after they left the lodging house and crossed the great court with the other travellers, and partook of the sacrament. Felicia had been surprised at how willingly Joan had been to accompany her. She had thought she would protest after her words the night before about no longer believing in a good God. After Mass they went to supper. There were eels in a rich creamy herb sauce, mutton with onions and barley, and small woodland strawberries topped with cream.

When supper was finished, Edmund drew Felicia aside, leaving Joan and Dickon to walk on ahead. ‘I would speak with you a moment.’ He led her into the shadow of a towering buttress of pale stone. ‘If you are willing still, we shall we be married in the morning before we leave for Chipbury?’

Felicia could not see his face clearly, but she thought she detected a tender note in his voice and it made her heart melt. ‘I am willing,’ she whispered. ‘Rather you than Philip,’ she added, in case he might consider her too eager. She had not forgotten his calling her a wanton witch.

‘Not much choice,’ he said dryly. ‘Were you never betrothed, Felicia? I would have thought some knight would have asked for your hand before now.’

‘Once,’ she murmured. ‘I was five years old, and he died of a fever. You have no idea how cross I was with the poor boy!’

‘And no one since? That surprises me.’

‘With my mother dead, my father was in no rush to marry me off.’

‘Understandable.’ He smiled.

She returned his smile and whilst he did not touch her, yet she felt almost as though he was holding her. If not by strength of arms, then by a strange singing magnetism that seemed to stretch between them. It snapped suddenly as she felt cool air at her ankles, as if a door had been opened and shut.

‘We must go,’ she whispered.

He nodded, and they parted in the hall. Nerves twisted in her stomach as she neared her apartment. She must tell Joan her news tonight. The door opened before she touched it, and Joan stood framed in the doorway, with the glow of candlelight behind her.

‘Flissie, I thought you would never come!’ Joan’s face was screwed up with weariness. ‘I could not settle to sleep without you and in the morning we shall be leaving for Chipbury so we must rest.’ She seized Felicia’s arm and pulled her into the chamber.

‘In the morning,’ Felicia began, clearing her throat, as she moved over to the bed, unfastening her surcote. ‘I am marrying Edmund de Vert.’ She sank on the bed, deeply conscious of the words she had just spoken. She was committing herself to a man who had abducted her. A physician, born on the wrong side of the blanket, who had not yet gained his inheritance. Was she mad?

‘You are jesting, Flissie. Say you are jesting!’ Joan’s lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears as she pressed a hand to her breast. ‘You lied to me! You told me you weren’t lovers!’

Felicia’s fingers quivered as she removed her surcote and placed it at the bottom of the bed. ‘I told you the truth.’

Joan placed a hand to her head and rubbed it slowly. ‘How can I believe you? It is not like you to be marrying a man you barely know.’

‘I have decided it would be sensible for me to have a husband after hearing what you had to say about Philip’s threats against me.’

Joan sank onto the bed, pleating her skirts nervously and staring wide-eyed at Felicia. ‘So it is my fault.’

‘I did not say that!’ cried Felicia.

Joan sniffed back tears. ‘It seems that everyone is in love with you, and nobody loves me. Even the lute-player looks fondly on you.’

Joan’s tone was so pitiful that Felicia was moved to sit beside her and put an arm about her shoulders. ‘Joan, you are mistaken. Shall I tell you the full truth of how it came about that I met Edmund and why Philip believed I had a lover?’

‘Please,’ murmured Joan.

‘Philip had Sir Gervaise de Vert and his sons killed and took his castle and lands. As an act of revenge Edmund abducted me from the castle, believing Philip and I were lovers. I did not know at the time that Edmund was Sir Gervaise’s natural son but he told me of his mother’s sufferings at Philip’s hands and I believed him. Yet still I was determined to escape from him and try to reach Meriet for I was concerned about you.’ Felicia paused. ‘Anyway, I did escape from Edmund, only to be captured by Philip’s men who took me back to the castle. Philip could not understand how I had escaped in the first place because I made no mention of Edmund’s abduction of me and he had it fixed in his head that I had a lover.’

Joan lifted her head and stared at Felicia. ‘What happened next? How come you escaped Philip after being recaptured?’

Felicia sighed. ‘Philip was hell-bent on bedding me, but I stabbed him with my scissors and escaped, only to bump into Edmund. It was due to him I managed to flee the castle. As he was heading south, he decided to help me reach Meriet.’

Joan frowned. ‘Why did you not tell me all of this earlier? I find your tale difficult to accept. You would wed a man who abducted you? Can he be any better than Philip?’

‘He is!’ Felicia nearly shouted the words. Her cousin scanned her face with round, incredulous eyes. ‘The marks on my cheek are nearly gone now,’ Felicia lowered her voice. ‘Philip hit me. You know from experience how cruel he can be. Edmund never treated me so—so unkindly ... roughly, maybe.’ She blushed.

Joan drew away from her. ‘He has bewitched you,’ she said slowly. ‘As a physician he knows about herbs, potions and lotions. I deem he has given you a love potion. That is why you are prepared to wed him. He is just like Philip and wants your lands.’

‘No!’ Felicia rose to her feet. ‘He thinks to protect me from Philip by giving me his name.’ She walked slowly over to the window, and looked out and thought she saw movement in the shadows.