The Lady in the Tower (22 page)

We crossed the drawbridge into the yard under the curious eyes of the castle guards. The sight of the charred and blackened remains of the bedding store frightened me. I had caused so much trouble. I knew I would be punished.

It was still early morning when we reached the castle. Only the servants were stirring. There were none to see us led through the silent corridors. I was locked into my chamber, and Mother was led away, presumably to be locked up in the Lady Tower once more.

The day passed in a haze of dread. I was exhausted and slept some hours, always awakening with a lurch of fear in my stomach. What were they doing to Mother? And what was going to happen to me: these were the constant themes that occupied my feverish mind. Would I be beaten? Would I still be made to marry Stanton? Or had I disgraced myself too badly even for that?

An hour before supper, I heard the key grate in the lock. I leapt to my feet and backed to the wall. My mouth felt dry suddenly as I wondered who was about to come in and why.

It was Maria. As she entered the room, I sighed with relief. But she was tight-lipped and severe, and did not greet me in her usual affectionate manner.

‘I’m to help you dress for dinner,’ she said.

‘Dinner?’ I asked, surprised. But when I thought about it, it made sense. My father would want to hush up the incident. No doubt he would be pretending I had gone for a late ride and got lost or some such thing. Maria pushed me into a seat and began combing my hair. It was tangled and neglected and I winced as the comb snagged.

‘Where is Mother now?’ I asked.

‘She is back in the tower.’ Her voice sounded very cold.

‘Thank you for your help last night,’ I said softly. ‘Even though we did not succeed, I am grateful to you.’

It cost me something to thank Maria, but my sense of justice demanded it.

In reply I got a sharp tug of the comb that made my eyes water.

‘You are hurting me,’ I told her.

She did not reply, but continued dragging the comb through my tangles.

I caught her wrist in my hand and turned to look at her.

‘Maria?’ I asked. ‘What is wrong?’

Maria glared at me and I recoiled as I saw the hate in her eyes. I began to understand.

‘It was you who alerted Sir Walter of our escape last night,’ I said, my voice small. When Maria did not answer, I shook her wrist. ‘Was it you?’ I asked.

Angrily, Maria pulled her wrist out of my grasp. She looked as though she was fighting to keep control over herself. Abruptly speech burst from her: ‘Of course it was me, you stupid girl,’ she hissed. ‘I was never your friend! Did you really think I enjoyed your company for one second? You are a conceited, odious, wild little slut, with no care for anyone except yourself and your mad mother!’ The words poured out of her like poison from a boil. I watched her with horror as her face contorted with rage. I began to shake. How could I ever have believed, even for a moment, Maria was my friend? I had trusted her and she had gone straight to my father.

‘Sir Walter will marry you off to Lord Stanton in less than two weeks, and it’s more than you deserve. I pity the man!’ Maria flung at me. ‘I hope he can tame his women as well as he tames his horses.’

I gasped in shock. Her cruel words lashed me.

‘You are so angry. Why? What have I done to you?’ I asked.

‘You have caused me nothing but trouble. Sneaking about, hiding, being rude and disobedient. And Sir Walter was in such a rage last night when I took him the news. He blamed me for letting you leave the castle. But what could I have done? I ran to him as swiftly as I could.’ She looked aggrieved. I felt no pity, only a kind of numb hurt.

‘What do you have to gain in all this?’ I asked her, shaken.

‘I? I gain a husband, a title, a castle and become a woman of consequence at the king’s court!’

‘You cannot marry Sir Walter. He already has a wife,’ I objected. I had never understood her interest in my father.

‘Have you never heard of divorce?’ asked Maria triumphantly. ‘He will divorce your mother, and marry me. He has already asked me.’

‘You are welcome to Sir Walter and Farleigh and all the rest,’ I said. ‘But
why
, why could you not have let us go?’

‘Because Sir Walter wants you both here,’ she said. Her voice was under control again now, cold and hard, but I was still shaking with anger.

‘So why did you pretend to be my friend?’ I demanded. ‘Why did you help me after the joust?’

‘Because Sir Walter asked me to befriend you, you little fool, and gain your trust. And concealing your disgraceful little secret did the trick, did it not? You trusted me enough to tell me exactly which direction you were going to take.’ Her voice had a triumphant note in it. She was enjoying telling me how she had betrayed me.

It all made sense. Everyone was ranged against me. There was nothing I could do against so many.

I felt low and depressed as I submitted to dressing for dinner. I followed Maria miserably down to the great hall and hung my head in shame as we entered. It was hard to face everyone after such a defeat. Several people asked solicitously after my health, and I understood that they had been told I had been indisposed once more. They knew nothing of my escapade.

‘So what was wrong with me this time?’ I hissed at Maria after the third enquiry.

‘A touch of the sun,’ Maria replied under her breath. ‘The exposure during the tournament gave you a severe headache.’

‘I’m glad to know it was nothing serious,’ I replied sarcastically.

I found I could eat little at supper. I realized, with a sickening jolt, that as long as I was locked in my chamber, Mother would get no food at all. Unless Alice took her some bread that she could ill spare from her own family. How could I dine on venison and sweetmeats while she starved? I pushed my plate away in despair.

Was there no one within the castle on my side? Was there no kindness or mercy? It seemed not. I looked around at the faces in the hall. There were fewer than yesterday. Some had already left now that the tournament was over. Not that it made any difference to me. Gregory caught my eye and sent me a look so full of heartfelt sympathy that it brought hot tears to my eyes. I blinked them back. I could count on one friend in him.

Lord Stanton, too, was still present. I was certain he was an enemy. Stanton caught me looking at him and kissed his fingertips to me across the room. I looked quickly away, but to my dismay, I saw him get up from his place and come towards me.

Unwillingly, I gave him my hand, and he surprised me by kissing it.

‘You have been ill?’ he asked quietly. He sounded genuinely concerned. I felt confused and unsure what to say. Did I confirm the lie that had been told about me or deny it? While I hesitated, Stanton leaned closer and spoke in a voice intended for my ears only: ‘I hope this was not a result of your … ah … exertions?’ He indicated my injured arm as he spoke.

He clearly attributed my indisposition to my injury at the joust. No doubt Sir Walter had taken great care to let him know nothing of his future bride’s wild conduct last night.

‘No, I am quite well,’ I assured him briefly.

‘I am greatly relieved to hear it,’ he murmured, bowing and returning to his seat. Strange, I mused, as I watched him make his unhurried way back across the hall and seat himself gracefully again. There was no mocking note in his voice at all. It was almost as if he meant what he said. I felt touched by his kindness and had to remind myself fiercely that he was no more my friend than Maria was.

There was no formal entertainment that evening. Directly after supper, Maria escorted me to my chamber and locked me in. I removed my headdress and cast it onto the floor then I flung myself upon my bed.

‘Dear God, please help us!’ I uttered into the bedding, my voice muffled in my sheets. I groaned. How could we escape now? Dr Horde was our only chance, for I could think of no plan at all. I had never felt such despair. I lay unmoving, numb with hopelessness. I neither undressed nor drew the covers over me, but simply lay there as the night deepened outside the castle. I did not sleep.

It seemed like hours later that I heard the key in the lock once more. The door opened and Maria stood there again. She entered with a servant, looking flustered.

‘The king has sent for you,’ she said.

The maid laid out my clothes and gave orders for a small bathtub to be carried up to my chamber, lined with linen and filled with water. Servants filed in carrying cans of water, some casting me curious glances. The steam rose and curled about the room. Meanwhile Maria sat beside me and explained to me that when a king sends for a young maiden at night, it is both an honour and a danger.

‘What are you talking about?’ I cried at length, my head in a whirl. ‘Speak plain, for I do not understand you.’

‘The king loves young women, Eleanor,’ Maria explained. ‘But his love is fickle and ever-changing. Do you understand?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I do not. I do not want the king to be in love with me. I am betrothed, he knows that! He sanctioned the betrothal. And I can undress myself, thank you.’

I was not accustomed to bathing, normally contenting myself with a wash from a basin of water. I was embarrassed to be completely naked in front of an audience. Maria dismissed the maids, and I hurriedly pulled off my nightgown and climbed into the water. It was warm and scented, but I was too confused and anxious to take any pleasure in such a luxury.

‘What are these bruises?’ exclaimed Maria, pointing to my injured side. The marks from the impact of the lance were black and purple. I had forgotten how much they showed.

‘They are from the joust,’ I explained. ‘Where Stanton’s lance struck me.’

‘As if your arm was not bad enough. Why must you be such a hoyden? I hope this will not disgust the king. If he mentions your injuries, you must say you fell from your horse.’

‘He will not see them!’ I exclaimed, outraged. ‘Why do I need to bathe anyway?’

Maria began washing my hair. I was so angry with her, I could not bear her touch.

‘Be still and stop fussing, Eleanor,’ she snapped. ‘The king likes women to be clean. He cannot bear dirt or body odour of any kind.’

‘That’s pretty unreasonable considering how he stinks and farts himself,’ I commented, drawing a gasp of shock from her.

‘How can you speak so about His Majesty, Eleanor?’ scolded Maria. ‘I hope you can conduct yourself with propriety in his presence.’ I scarcely heard her. An appalling thought had struck me, which made sense of all her previously incomprehensible words.

‘He doesn’t want me as his
mistress
, does he?’ I asked, my voice low with horror.

‘I doubt you’ll be so favoured,’ sneered Maria. ‘I imagine you will serve to amuse him for one evening only. And not even that if you offend him, Eleanor.’ She tugged my hair; it was a warning: ‘Your father has gone to great trouble and expense to entertain the king and gain his favour. If you undo it all by being rude or coy, I cannot begin to imagine what he’ll do to you. I hope you know the honour due to the king of England.’

I sat hugging myself in the bath, rigid with dread at the ordeal that lay before me.

‘Cannot you say that I am unwell?’ I begged at length.

‘You cannot refuse the king,’ was all Maria said. I got nothing more from her.

In less time than I would have liked, I was walking towards the king’s chamber. I had been washed in places I hadn’t known I had, and was cleaner than ever before in my life. A new gown, the only one I had not yet worn, rustled about me. My hair had been rubbed dry and then combed out and left loose. It fell to below my waist in an auburn cascade.

We passed few people in the corridors. It was late now, and most had retired. Maria ushered me into the king’s presence and, as I sank into a deep curtsey, I heard the door close behind me. I was alone with the king. My heart hammered as though it would escape from my chest. My mouth felt dry and my hands were trembling.

As I rose shakily from my curtsey, I remained where I was, staring at the floor just in front of my feet.

‘Welcome,’ I heard the king’s voice say. ‘Come and sit down.’

I looked up and saw the king seated on a small settle before a roaring fire, despite the warmth of the evening. He was smiling benignly at me, and patting the small space that was left on the settle beside him. I felt my stomach lurch. I approached hesitantly, casting my eyes around for another chair I could sit on instead. ‘By me,’ repeated the king, once again patting the settle. I sat gingerly down. I could not help brushing against him, there was not enough space for two. With one pudgy hand, he reached out and began to stroke my shoulder. My skin crawled under his touch. I was overawed by the king’s presence and the importance of not doing or saying anything that might offend him. The heat of the fire scorched my skin. I felt dizzy.

‘I confess, I am curious about your
indisposition
, Mistress Eleanor,’ said the king. I glanced up at him briefly, then hurriedly lowered my eyes. He was too close and watching me like a hunter about to pounce on its prey.