The Tavern in the Morning (20 page)

But she was shaking her head. ‘No, it doesn’t matter.’ Belatedly she added, ‘Thank you.’

Again, he was puzzled. So much about her puzzled him! ‘Joanna, I’m sure it could be arranged for the body to be moved.’ He had no idea how these things were done, but, in his experience, it was usually the case that almost anything was possible if you were prepared to grease a few palms. ‘If that’s what you were thinking.’

She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, as if she were seeing something a long way off. ‘No, Josse. You are kind to be making these suggestions, but, as I said, it doesn’t matter. Where Mag’s body is buried is of no concern to me.’

It sounded a strangely heartless thing to say, and he didn’t believe Joanna to be heartless. Certainly, not where Mag Hobson was concerned. ‘Then why did you ask?’ he ventured.

‘Oh—’ She seemed to have to think about it. ‘I just wanted to make sure that she
had
been buried.’

‘As opposed to what?’ he asked, half laughing.

But she had ridden ahead of him and didn’t appear to have heard.

*   *   *

New Winnowlands looked every bit as clean and well cared for as the house they had just left. Making a mental note to thank Will and Ella, Josse led the way in through the gates, across the yard and into the stables, where Will, having heard them ride in, came hurrying to help.

Josse, working on the principle that what a man doesn’t know he can’t tell anybody else, said, ‘Will, this lady is a friend of mine. She is visiting the area, and is to stay here for a while. Would you please ask Ella to prepare accommodation for her?’

Will had been staring at Joanna with undisguised curiosity. ‘That I shall,’ he said. ‘Just let me see these three horses comfortable, then I’ll speak to Ella straight away.’

Josse took Joanna up the steps and into the house, aware, as surely she must be too, of Will’s keen interest. What on earth would he say to Ella? Josse could well imagine something on the lines of, the Master’s found himself a woman, and a fair looker at that. He’s ordered a chamber prepared for her, but, judging by the way they look at one another, it’s my opinion that she’ll not be using it. You might as well save yourself the trouble, Ella.

Ah, well. There was nothing he could do about it. Showing Joanna to a seat by the fire, he risked a quick look at her. She was smiling slightly, as if the situation amused her. She didn’t seem in the least offended nor awkward.

‘Your arrival is bound to cause a bit of a stir,’ he said quietly; Ella might well be within earshot, she moved so softly about the place that you really never knew where she was. ‘It’s not often I bring a beautiful young woman to my house.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, sir knight,’ she replied. ‘I should not like to think that you make a habit of entertaining young women.’

‘Aye. No.’

She was settling herself, clearly making herself at home. ‘I like your house,’ she remarked. ‘Newly renovated, did you say?’

Thankfully they seemed to have lit upon a topic of conversation that was perfectly fit for the possibly listening ears of Ella. One that, moreover, he could elaborate on without feeling the hot blush of embarrassment which never seemed far away when he was close to Joanna. ‘Aye, there was a deal of work necessary when I first came to live here. It had been built as the dower house to the main manor, up the road a mile or so, but was in a sorry state. Nobody had lived here for years, so there was a long list of problems to address. For a start, we had to…’

He had been droning on for some time, listing all the work he had had to put in hand to make his house habitable, when he noticed that she seemed to be suppressing laughter. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘Oh, Josse, nothing’s the matter.’ She straightened her expression. ‘There is little I enjoy more than a long sermon on the repair of masonry and the replacement of interior woodwork.’

‘You did ask,’ he said, stung.

‘I did,’ she agreed. Getting up, she came across to him. ‘Do your servants live in the house?’ she asked softly.

‘Well, not exactly. They have a small cottage, a lean-to, really, on the end of the row of outbuildings. It suits them to live a short step away from me, or so I assume, since it was Will himself who requested the place, and—’

‘A simple “no” would have done,’ she whispered, placing her finger to his lips. ‘Would have done very well, in fact, a lot better than “yes”.’

He had a good idea what she was thinking. ‘You prefer that we are alone here, at night?’ he whispered back, excited by the very thought of the night. ‘With no fear of servants’ gossip to ruin your reputation?’

She smiled. ‘My reputation was ruined seven years ago.’ She slid her arms round his neck, pulling him down towards her so that she could kiss him. ‘Now, I please myself what I do.’

‘And it pleases you to be here? With me?’ His voice was husky with growing desire.

‘Oh, yes.’ She kissed him again. ‘It pleases me very much.’

‘I’ll look after you,’ he said, lips to her ear. ‘I swear to you, I’ll help you, care for you—’

‘I know,’ she interrupted. ‘I thank you for it.’ He had the strong sense that, momentarily, she had withdrawn from him, as if something he had said or done had caught her up short.

He began to wonder what it could have been. But then she was pressing herself to him again, and, with his rapidly-accelerating heartbeat sending the blood pounding through his body, he didn’t have the power to wonder any more.

Chapter Fourteen

The first sign of imminent trouble came after Sext.

Helewise, who had gone to check on Ninian on her way back to her room, had found him only a little embarrassed and annoyed at what she and Caliste had devised for him.

‘Yes, I do understand how you must feel,’ Helewise had said soothingly. ‘And I know that, because you are sensible,
you
can understand why we are doing this. Yes?’

The boy had given a grudging nod.

‘Good!’ Helewise said briskly. ‘Now, here’s Sister Caliste, back from her devotions, so I shall leave you in her care.’

*   *   *

She was in the act of opening her door when she heard pounding footsteps.

‘Abbess Helewise! Oh, Abbess! Stop!’

Helewise froze. Oh, dear God, no! I can’t do this, I’m not prepared to—

Then she remembered her promise. Straightening her shoulders, offering a swift, silent prayer asking for the sense to act quickly and wisely, and the strength to carry out whatever might be demanded of her, she turned round.

And greeted the red-faced, panicking Sister Ursel with a calm, ‘Sister? What is it?’

‘Denys de Courtenay is approaching. He’s just ridden into sight on the track up from Tonbridge. He’s got three men with him, mean-looking ruffians they are. The gates are barred, as you ordered, Abbess, but what am I to do when they request admittance?’

Helewise paused. If what I plan is not right, oh, Lord, she prayed, then please send me a sign. Please, of thy mercy, do not let me commit a folly …

She emptied her mind.

Nothing.

Taking a steadying breath, she said to Sister Ursel, ‘Go and open the gates. Sister. We must show Denys de Courtenay that we have nothing to hide.’ She fixed her eyes to Sister Ursel’s, trying to give her some of her own certainty, and was gratified to see a response. Sister Ursel squared her jaw, hitched up her robe and said, ‘Right. I’ll let the b – the wretches in.’

Helewise watched her hurry off, then followed her, at a more leisurely pace, out of the inner courtyard and towards the main gates.

There were three men at the gates – Sister Ursel must have miscounted – and they had dismounted. The two companions Denys de Courtenay had chosen were both big and ugly. The sort of men, Helewise imagined, likely to be found at the root of a tavern brawl. Not that she knew anything about tavern brawls. One had a scar from his ear to the side of his nose. The other seemed to be suffering from an unpleasant skin condition. Both were armed with staves, and bore knives thrust into their belts.

‘… can’t bring your weapons into the House of God,’ Sister Ursel was saying, bravely standing her ground, hands on hips, not quite managing to fill the gap left between the partially-opened gates.

De Courtenay muttered something, and the men put their sticks and knives against the wall. ‘You and all,’ Sister Ursel commanded, waving a hand at the sword by de Courtenay’s side.

With a faint smile, as if the whole scene privately amused him, he did as she said.

Helewise stepped forward, and de Courtenay noticed her. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘the very lady I have come to see.’ With a wide smile that exposed his white, even teeth, he nodded to his men, who shuffled in through the gates and stood, in poses of varying degrees of aggression, just inside the walls. Then he strode up to Helewise, made her a brief bow – little more than a nod of the head – and said, ‘A word, Abbess, if I may.’

Then he took her by the elbow and marched her off towards her room.

Her instinct was to shrug him off, but something told her to wait, to act in a thoroughly nun-like way, submissive, obedient. She bowed her head and suffered herself to be led away.

She opened the door of her room, and gestured for de Courtenay to precede her inside. Then, carefully closing the door behind him, she turned and said meekly, ‘How may I be of service?’

He was staring round the room as if searching for something, and did not appear to notice her humble tone. Then, spinning round to face her, he said brusquely, ‘You know a knight called Josse d’Acquin. Don’t try to deny it, any number of good folk hereabouts have told me he is a frequent visitor to Hawkenlye Abbey, and, moreover, on excellent terms with its Abbess.’

‘I should not dream of denying it,’ she said calmly. ‘Sir Josse is a good friend to Hawkenlye, and has given us his help and support on more than one occasion.’

‘Hmph.’ De Courtenay looked slightly put out, as if he had expected an argument. ‘Well, is he here?’

‘He is not.’

‘Where is he?’

She hesitated. ‘He spoke of a visit to Winchester.’ That was no lie; Josse had described to her his mission to Queen Eleanor over the matter of his rent demand. ‘I believe he may be there.’

That
was
a lie. But, Helewise told herself, in a very good cause.

‘Winchester?’

She nodded. Sometimes the nun’s well-known discipline of not speaking unnecessarily came in very useful.

De Courtenay strode to the door and flung it open. ‘I’m going to fetch my men. I want to search the Abbey.’

She flew ahead of him and, repeating Sister Ursel’s action at the gates, stood between him and the cloister outside. ‘I do not permit that,’ she said icily. She met his eyes unwaveringly. ‘This is God’s holy place, not some felon’s hideaway. Visitors enter at my discretion, and, once inside, are expected to behave with reverence and decorum. Your companions, sir, do not look capable of either.’

‘What you think of my men is irrelevant,’ he retorted. ‘Search I will!’

‘What do you imagine you will find?’ she cried. ‘I have told you that Sir Josse is not here!’

His eyes narrowed. ‘I asked you before if you had seen my kinswoman, Joanna de Lehon,’ he said, menace in his tone.

‘And I said no!’ Helewise replied. ‘I undertook to inform you if I had word of her!’

‘But you haven’t, have you?’ He put his face close to hers.

‘No, because she, too, is not here!’

He said, with a cold detachment that was worse than anger, ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘You should,’ she insisted. ‘I speak the truth!’

He raised his hand and for an instant she thought he was going to push her out of the way. She put all the authority she could muster into her face – not difficult, since she was boiling with suppressed rage – and slowly he put his hand down again.

‘I do need to look round your Abbey,’ he repeated, softly now. ‘Will you act as escort, Abbess, if I leave my men where they are and come with you alone?’

Stalemate. She could hardly refuse and it would surely arouse direct action from him if she did.

Wouldn’t it be better to do as he asked? Then perhaps he would believe that they had nothing to hide, and leave them alone.

Perhaps.

Again, she waited for a sign that she was taking a wrong path. Again, none came.

Lowering her head – if she were going to take on once more the persona of humble nun, it was best he couldn’t see her expression – she said, ‘I am perfectly willing to show you the Abbey. If you would care to follow me, I shall introduce you to my community and show you something of our work here at Hawkenlye.’

*   *   *

After that, it was easy, for she had shown off the Abbey to interested visitors on many previous occasions.

It was relatively easy, at least; two major anxieties gnawed at her, and she had to exercise every bit of self-control she could muster to stop them from edging their way into her manner and her voice.

She began with the storage buildings and the stables.

‘… these are the stables, where, as you see, Sister Martha keeps everything spotless.’

Sister Martha, who had obviously heard what was happening, stood with her pitchfork in her hand, looking as if she would just love an excuse to ram it into de Courtenay’s belly.

De Courtenay glanced briefly into each of the four stalls. ‘No horses?’

Sister Martha, having looked at her Abbess for approval, spoke. ‘We keep a cob and a pony,’ she said gruffly. ‘Plain-looking animals, but sturdy. They’re turned out today, in the sunshine.’

‘Where?’ he demanded.

Giving him the sort of look more usually directed at a pile of ordure, she led him outside, took him to the gates and pointed down the road. Helewise, watching from a distance, saw him give a brief nod.

If he had been expecting to see Josse’s horse, or the sort of fine animals owned by a lady and her son, he was disappointed.

De Courtenay strode back to Helewise. ‘Carry on,’ he commanded.

Meekly she obeyed, leading him on towards the herb garden. ‘In front of you you’ll see where we grow our vegetables and our herbs,’ she began, then proceeded to lecture him for some time on the various herbs and their uses. Half of it she made up as she went along. ‘And up on your left –’ she detached a hand from the opposite sleeve and waved it in the air – ‘is the dormitory where all but the Virgin Sisters sleep.’