The King's Mistress (12 page)

No lovemaking for two years? “Then why are we to be wed now?”

Mother tilted her head and fussed with the front of my robe. “Business, Alice. Your marriage is all about the guild and trade connections. But your father has ensured your protection—see how he loves you? If Janyn breaks his vow by bedding you tonight, he forfeits your dowry.”

I refused to address her attempt to twist my heart about Father. She had always resented our closeness. “Janyn is so wealthy he does not need my dowry,” I said.

“Do you think yourself such a prize?”

I did not flinch from her cutting remark, though it did sting. But surely Janyn did have all the wealth he could want. I was confused. I had been apprehensive about lovemaking, but now that I might be forbidden it, I felt as if I’d lost something most precious to me. She had robbed me of my excitement about the coming ceremony and feast. Could it possibly be so? Janyn had said he’d promised Father to wait only until tonight.

“You’ve little to say for yourself today.” Mother used her veil to hide her smile, but I saw it in her eyes.

“What is there for me to say?”

“Well, come, then.” She held her hand out to me. “Let us go down to the hall.”

I shook my head. “I would be alone for a while.”

Mother loudly sighed and reached for my hand. I pulled away from her.

“Leave me,” I said, with no shadow of respect in my voice, my eyes, my posture.

She laughed, but I knew by her blush that my response was not what she had expected. “Come, daughter. Be grateful. Your doting
father means to protect you. You are so young. If you were to conceive at once, you would suffer carrying a child.”

“Women my age bear children every day. Leave me, Dame Margery.” I could not call her “Mother.” “I’ll not walk out with you.”

With another great sigh, she left the room. As soon as I heard her on the stairway, I turned to Gwen, who had finished tidying and resorted to rearranging items in order to look busy.

“Ask Dame Agnes to come to me here,” I said.

I sat down on the bed to wait, fighting tears.

Gwen returned. “She has gone down to the hall, mistress.”

“Fetch her.”

I hugged myself, chilled by Mother’s final blow. I vowed that I would hear nothing more from her lips.

When Grandmother sailed into the room, her green silk gown rippling behind her and her kindly face crinkled in concern, I fell into her embrace.

She pressed me to her bosom, then released me and stepped back to get a look at me. “What is amiss? Gwen looked so pale I feared I would find you lying on the floor bleeding. God be praised, you look unharmed.” She stepped closer. “It was Margery, I trow. What did she say to you?”

I told her, and although she expressed indignation that her son would demand such a thing, or that he would deem me so fragile, she admitted that she did not know for certain whether or not it was so.

“But, my sweet child, I cannot believe Janyn would agree to it. I have seen you together. And he is rich as Croesus.” She sank down onto a bench and fanned herself as she thought. “But of course!” she suddenly said. “Gwen, what are your orders regarding the bridal chamber?”

Gwen’s face brightened. “I am to prepare the bridal chamber this evening for all to toast you when you are abed. Together.” She looked at me, then Dame Agnes. “Would Master Janyn observe this ritual if he had promised what Dame Margery suggested?”

“It is the custom, is it not?” I asked.

“Only a fool would challenge his vow in such wise,” said Grandmother. “So be of good cheer, Alice!” She lifted my chin and with a linen cloth dabbed at my eyes.

I had not been aware that I’d been weeping. “Do I look horrible now?”

Gwen lifted a mirror so that I might see I looked no worse than before.

“I am sorry that I doubted my son’s complaints about Margery for so long,” said Dame Agnes. “She is every bit the venomous lamia he described.”

The rest of the day was a blur but for brief encounters with Janyn, who watched me with such hunger and kissed me with such enthusiasm that I thought we would both go mad if Mother’s story were true. For Dame Agnes’s argument had not convinced me that it was not.

As I stood on the church porch repeating my vows my heart constricted at each promise of obedience, thinking of my father’s command. But when Janyn caught my gaze, looking on me with excitement and love, I momentarily took heart.

Upon leaving the church, Janyn—my husband!—took my hand to escort me to the guild hall in which we would have the wedding feast, and I was seldom out of his reach for the rest of the day despite the crowd of more than fifty guests jostling for our individual attention. I diligently avoided looking at Mother at the high table and must have succeeded in shutting out her voice as well, for I remember nothing of her after she’d left my bedchamber in Grandmother’s house. As we quit the table Father kissed me and held me close for a moment, saying that he prayed we would be happy and that life would treat me gently. I hesitated to ask him about the vow, knowing that if Mother had lied my question might widen the rift between them, but I could not help myself.

The hall was crowded and smoky, and Father’s hat was at just the right angle to cast shadow over his face, so I could not be certain of his expression. But his words rang false as he said he had considered asking it of Janyn. “Perhaps I spoke of it to your mother. But, in the end, I decided against it.”

So Mother had concocted a hurtful lie, and Father had corroborated it. I need not have worried about widening the rift between my parents. It was the rift between my parents and me that had grown.

When the time came for Janyn and me to progress to our London home, my parents made their apologies and withdrew to their own. But half the inebriated crowd accompanied us. I had drunk little, but as Gwen and Dame Agnes undressed me they coaxed me to have some brandywine.

“To calm your shivering,” said Grandmother.

In truth, I could not speak because my teeth chattered so. The brandywine was welcome. My night shift was too thin to provide any warmth, and though the bed was piled with wonderfully thick blankets my feet felt as if they were encased in ice. I sat propped against an extravagant pile of cushions all covered in softest linen, embroidered with our initials,
AS
and
JP
.

Janyn arrived through a side door, wearing a shift shorter and of a more substantial linen than mine. As he sat on the bed and swung his legs up, I kept my eyes on the straight, silky black hair on his calves, the surprisingly graceful shape of his ankles and feet. He kissed me on the forehead and lifted the covers to slip his legs beneath. His warmth was so sweet and comforting, until the fuss at the main door of the room reminded me of what this was all about. As Grandmother opened the door to the celebrants, Janyn slipped an arm behind me, resting it on the pillows, his hand gently cupping my trembling shoulder.

“I love you with all my being, Alice,” he whispered. “When they are gone we can talk into the night. I’ll not force myself on you.”

It helped. I was able to turn to look at him, and we kissed for all the guests to see, a gentle kiss.

It was received with cheers, jeers, and the demand for a more passionate kiss.

We embraced, and now the kiss was hard and lingering, and I was no longer cold, no longer frightened.

I remember nothing of the toasts to our health and my fecundity. I was living for the moment we were alone.

And when at last our guests had departed and we were alone in our great bed, we turned to each other and embraced. There was no speech between us. I twined my legs around him as he cupped my breasts in his hands. When he penetrated me, I cried out in hunger and held him tightly, wanting to devour him. His deep, surprised laughter, his groans and cries, his final, violent thrusts, were all beautiful to me, and I thanked God for such a gift as our love, our passion.

Later, the memory of the momentary pain surprised me, and the evidence of the bloodstains. I wondered at the power of passion to numb all other senses.

We talked, drowsed, kissed, and began all over again. In the morning Gwen and the chambermaid exchanged smiles over the bloody sheets and gently bathed me. I was pampered and petted for several days, dozing in the afternoons, for our nights were far too active to be
restful. I had never been happier. The only shadow on those days was the memory of Mother’s malicious lie, and Father’s cowardly corroboration. But she could hurt me no more.

A
S WE
settled into our domestic routine, my passion for Janyn expanded into an all-encompassing love, for he behaved toward me with a level of consideration I had never experienced. Father had told him how he had taught me his own trade practices and encouraged me to make suggestions; he said I’d become a valuable partner. Janyn was delighted to benefit from this. He sought out my opinion on all manner of issues—household purchases, social engagements, trade negotiations. Dame Gertrude, who had served Janyn as housekeeper while he remained a widower, had been instructed to hand over the keys and all governance of the household to me at once. But as women do, we found a comfortable compromise, one that allowed me to learn all that she might teach me while testing my own abilities. I was only fourteen, and everything was new to me.

I discovered that my strengths lay in ascertaining the quantities required and judging the qualities of goods and furnishings, while Gertrude was far better than I could yet be at supervising the servants. I loved the heft of the keys hanging from my girdle; it was a relief to me that Gertrude seemed to have no misgivings about handing them over.

Though my days brimmed with new experiences I missed John, Mary, Nan, and Will, saving up stories to share with them. Two weeks after our wedding Janyn suggested we invite my family to dine with us. My Salisbury grandparents, Father, Nan, and my siblings came; Mother claimed to be ill. Mary and Will were stiff with shyness at first, but Gwen soon engaged them in games of tag in the garden and around the hall, and thanks to her that day was filled with their laughter. Father seemed more comfortable with Janyn than he had been on our wedding day, which suggested to me that they had met since then over business. I caught him watching me several times with a bemused expression, as if surprised to see me in charge of my own home, affectionately teasing my husband, laughing with Nan over mistakes I’d made in my first attempts to perform tasks she’d always done for me. The day was one I would cherish in my heart for a long while.

After our guests departed, Janyn asked whether there had been anything lacking in the day, anything I might have wished to have happened that had not.

“No, my love, nothing. All my loved ones were merry and well fed, and happy to see our contentment.”

He pulled me close and whispered, “Will and Mary inspired me to wonder what it will be like when our little ones are dashing about the hall and gardens, squealing, shouting, laughing.”

Knowing of the pain he’d suffered with the loss of his wife in childbirth as well as the baby they had anticipated with such joy, I always tried to keep my tone light when I spoke of our own hope for children. Now I asked with a teasing smile, “Do you dread it?”

“Dread it? I think it will be the most joyous place with such noise and activity.” He slipped his hand inside the low neck of my undergown and pressed my breast.

I bit his lip. “Let us go to bed, my lord, and make a baby for your pleasure.”

His voice suddenly husky, he ordered the servants to put the hall to rights and told Gwen to prepare me for bed, for I was uncommonly weary after the long day.

A
S THE
time grew near for our move to Fair Meadow I tried to learn more about Isabella of France to prepare myself for meeting her. I had lately learned from Gertrude that the woodland beyond Fair Meadow was Epping Forest, and that Isabella would be hunting there the morning before she dined with us. Janyn would hunt with her. The housekeeper much admired the dowager queen and her good health—she was said to be at least sixty years of age!

“You must study her preferences, mistress, and follow her diet in all things. Then you shall enjoy a long and active life and retain your beauty.”

I asked Janyn, “Should we hire minstrels and musicians? If she hunts, she surely dances.”

“Indeed she does, and her own minstrels and musicians accompany her wherever she travels.”

I clapped my hands and hopped about in a merry jig.

“I am sure she will adore you, Alice, my love.”

“Might I join the hunt, Janyn?”

“When you have hunted with me a dozen times, then you shall be included in the dowager queen’s party. She has no patience with those who fall behind. Which reminds me … although I have promised not to separate you from your beloved Serenity, you do require a hunting horse. I must see to that while we are in the country.”

I was to hunt. The anticipation kept me humming through all the preparations for our journey. Janyn’s parents would accompany us, and for several days beforehand we stayed in their home while ours was being packed. The room in which we slept was separated from his parents’ chamber by a wooden wall that was little more than a screen. I was upset to see it, for it seemed a certainty that we would have no lovemaking while there, our passion being no quiet engagement.

“The room is not to your taste?” Janyn asked, seeing my face.

“Your parents will hear us,” I whispered, touching the flimsy wall.

He grabbed me up and tossed me onto the bed. We were not altogether silent. I mentioned this afterward as we lay side by side.

“Do you think they would not expect such noises from our bedchamber, Alice? My mother will make offerings of thanks in church, she so yearns for grandchildren near at hand to fuss over. My sister’s children are so far away.”

W
E WERE
a large and merry train of wagons and riders as we wove out of London and into the country on a gray but dry morning. A storm had blown through the previous day, ripping many of the beautifully colored autumn leaves from the trees, and the road was slippery with their sodden remains, but there was still enough color to be magical, and as the day warmed, a mist hung over the valleys and woodland.