The Witch of Eye (24 page)

‘What? Yes. Oh, yes. I’m fine, Kitty. Don’t worry. All right then, run along. Just remember about the milking tonight and, Hawys, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

He should have found another dairymaid by now, of course he should, ever since Jenna first went to work for Margery. But he hadn’t found anyone to replace her yet, not that he’d really been looking. He still hadn’t quite accepted that she was not going to return to her job in the dairy. But, if what he had just heard was true, she never would.

William didn’t know how he managed to get out of the dairy without making a complete fool of himself. Kitty’s earnest little face haunted him and her words repeated themselves like an evil litany in his brain.

‘Because she’s going to marry him ... to marry him ... to marry him ... because she’s going to marry him...’

As if he didn’t have enough to worry about today. The drove was a bigger one than usual and it was expected within the hour. And Piers the cowherd was ill with some sweating, vomiting sickness though, thank God, there were no buboes in his armpits so it wasn’t the Plague. With luck, none of the other men would go down with it, whatever it was.

‘Because she’s going to marry him ... to marry him ... to marry him...’

Damn it! He couldn’t get rid of that accursed rhythm. What was he thinking about?

‘To marry him ... to marry him...’

His hands were bunched into fists at his sides as he strode the Willow Walk towards Eybury farmhouse, the sound of his footsteps underscoring that damnable rhythm. How could Robin be such a cheat, so two-faced as to let William confide in him and all the while...?

‘To marry him ... to marry him...’

No, it couldn’t be true, it couldn’t. And yet it must be. Kitty had been so confident. His heart was pounding. He must calm down. This was nothing to do with him, this business of Jenna and Robin. He had no right to feel anything. Jenna could marry whom she pleased. After all, he was married to Margery so what right had he to be concerned about what Jenna did?

‘To marry him ... to marry him ... because she’s going to marry him...’

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t say a word. And he’d stay away from the ale-house because ale loosened tongues and he didn’t want to talk about it. It was none of his business.

And he had no reason to feel so ... so bereaved, so betrayed.

***

A
week of waiting hand and foot on the Duchess of Gloucester had brought Jenna to the conclusion that, given the choice, she would infinitely prefer farm work to the duties of a lady’s maid. She had always taken pride in the responsibility of running a dairy, making butter and cheese, milking the cows, looking after the poultry, covering the fire at night, helping in the fields at harvest time or wherever else she might be required. But being at one selfish woman’s beck and call, carrying heavy pails of water for her bath, caring for her clothes, washing her linens, helping her dress, obeying every little whim and fancy, fetching and carrying all day and every day was not a life she cared for, despite the fact that the Duchess pronounced herself delighted with Jenna’s work and with her demeanour.

In taking over Sarah’s duties, Jenna had expected be called upon to trudge back and forth to Eybury farmhouse fairly often with messages for Margery Jourdemayne, though this was the first afternoon on which the Duchess had asked her to do so. Jenna was only too ready to do the Duchess’s bidding because it gave her an opportunity to do something very important to her. It gave her the chance to see Kitty.

Jenna had been sent to the Duchess’s aid at such short notice last week that she hadn’t given Kitty much thought before she left and she bitterly regretted the fact. The child was vulnerable and had come to depend on Jenna more and more. She should have made time to see her before she left, to explain that she wasn’t deserting her, to help her understand the reasons why she had to go away. She had no wish to destroy Kitty’s growing, but still fragile, confidence in other people.

Pushing open the door of the dairy, Jenna was surprised to realise that it must be at least two months since she had last been inside it. Nothing seemed to have changed, though after working in the warmth of the farmhouse, she had forgotten quite how cold the big room could be, even at the height of summer, with the diverted stream trickling through the centre of it, keeping the temperature down. With their backs to her, Hawys, Jane and the other dairymaids were pounding the butter in their churns and gossiping. No one noticed her at first.

‘Hello, ladies!’ she called, in imitation of the way William Jourdemayne always greeted them.

‘Jenna!’ Kitty screeched when she saw her, jumping up and down in her excitement. ‘Jenna, Jenna, Jenna! Look, it’s Jenna!’

‘Yes, it’s me,’ said Jenna, laughing as Kitty flung herself at her.

‘Well!’ said Hawys, her hands on her hips. ‘Who looks every inch the fine lady in her new kirtle? And what brings you here, madam? If I may be so bold as to ask.’

‘Yes, where have you been, Jenna?’ Kitty demanded. ‘Hawys said you were up at the palace. Have you come home, Jenna? You’re never going back to the palace, are you? Are you, Jenna?’

‘Yes, I am, Kitty. I have to. That’s what I came to tell you. And I may have to stay there for a few weeks. Perhaps even longer.’

‘Oh,’ Kitty’s face fell. ‘Why?’

‘Because I’m going to look after the Duchess instead of Sarah, while Mistress Jourdemayne looks after Sarah until her foot gets better.’

Hawys nodded in Kitty’s direction. ‘She misses you,’ she said.

‘Well, it can’t be helped,’ said Jenna. ‘I’m sorry, Kittymouse. I’ll come back as soon as I can. But the Duchess needs me while Sarah gets over her accident.’

‘Sarah says she can be very nasty, that Duchess,’ Jane said, wrinkling her nose.

‘Well, maybe. But I think I can manage to look after myself, Jane, thank you. Anyway, I only looked in to let you all know what was going on. And I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot by being late back and keeping the Duchess waiting. So, I can’t stay. Come here, Kittymouse. Give me a kiss, then I must go.’

Jenna kissed the top of Kitty’s head then had to detach the child’s arms which were clamped firmly around her waist as though she would never let her go.

‘Come now, Kitty. You be a good girl and do what Hawys tells you. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Goodbye for now, my dove. Goodbye, everyone! Goodbye!’

There: that was done. Pulling the door of the dairy closed behind her, Jenna felt her conscience was salved though she couldn’t bring herself to look back and wave. The sight of Kitty’s devastated little face would have weakened her resolve. One day, Kitty would have to grow up and realise that she couldn’t have everything her own way in this life, but not just yet. Not wanting to incur the Duchess’s displeasure by taking too long in running her errand, Jenna walked briskly back towards the farmhouse to collect the items she wanted before returning to the palace.

‘Well met!’ called William Jourdemayne, coming towards her. ‘So there you are.’

‘Master Jourdemayne!’

‘William,’ he corrected. ‘Don’t you remember?’

‘Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry, er, William.’ There was no avoiding him. She wasn’t even half way to the farmhouse yet and here he was, blocking the path, an unfamiliar expression on his face. She was startled, flustered. He was the last person she wanted to see. Not because she didn’t want to see him: she did want to see him. Very much. Too much.

William had never seen Jenna wearing anything other than her plain, dark workaday clothes: an apron, a coif covering her hair and a shawl over her shoulders if the weather was cold. Now her hair was plaited becomingly in coils over her ears and held in place by a white linen filet. She wore a new broadcloth kirtle in a light shade of green. To William, she looked enchanting.

‘You, er ... you’re looking well, Jenna,’ he managed. ‘You look as though you’re going somewhere very special.’

‘Mistress Jourdemayne thought I should have some new clothes to wear since things will be very different from now on. I can’t just...’

‘Oh, so you
are
going to marry Robin! Why didn’t anyone tell me? I didn’t think you and he –’ He broke off, seeing the incredulous expression on her face.

‘Marry Robin? Who, Robin Fairweather? No, I’m not going to marry Robin, nor anyone else for that matter. Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘It ... it was something young Kitty said,’ he muttered, embarrassed.

‘Kitty! Oh, William, Kitty is always marrying people off to each other. But only in her imagination. You shouldn’t have believed her.’

‘No. No, of course not. You’re right. And Robin had never said anything. Thank God for that. I couldn’t have borne it if ...’ his voice trailed off before Jenna could quite catch the rest of the sentence. He had never felt so stupid in his life.

‘No, I’m not marrying anyone,’ she said. ‘I’m working for the Duchess of Gloucester. That’s why I need better clothes, so I can attend her at the palace. It may not be for very long but Mistress Jourdemayne thought it was a good idea, well, certainly while Sarah’s ankle is still too painful to stand on.’

‘It’s broken,’ he said shortly. ‘Sarah’s ankle is broken and the bone-setter wasn’t able to do much about it. That’s what Margery said.’

‘Oh. I see. Then ... it will be some time before it heals. If it heals. She won’t be able to walk on it. I suppose I could be gone for some time...’

William remained silent for a long moment, looking intently at her, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

‘But Margery said you only went there to help out. Surely you’re not planning to stay there any longer, are you? You should have more sense than that.’

‘Why, yes. I have to stay. Mistress Jourdemayne says...’

‘No you don’t, Jenna, you don’t
have
to do anything you don’t want to do, whatever Margery says.’

He reached out to grip her arm, pulling her off the path and into the secluded shelter of an old oak tree’s spreading branches.

‘Listen to me, Jenna. Margery told me what happened but you don’t have to stay at the palace any longer. Listen to me. Look at me, Jenna! You don’t have to go. They’ll soon find somebody else to look after Her bloody Grace the bloody Duch –’

‘Master!’

William was beside himself now, his mind in a turmoil. Jenna wasn’t going to marry Robin, of course not. Robin would have said something. He should never have been so ready to believe a fanciful child. But she was going to go to the palace and for William that was just as bad. Feeling his temper rising within him, he turned away and pounded his clenched fist on the wide trunk of the oak. Then he turned back and challenged her.

‘Jenna, why do you want to go to the palace? Tell me. Why are you and my wife prepared to spend your lives fawning over vain, empty-headed women like that damned Duchess? Margery is forever talking about her. “The Duchess says this ... Her Grace wants that ...” No, Jenna. No! They’re selfish, shallow people. The Duchess and people of her ilk think of nothing but themselves.’

‘I don’t...’

‘Yes, but I don’t want you to be beguiled by them, taken in by them because of who they are, because of their ... their fame, because they appear to be important people.’ He was gripping her arms now, looking intently into her face. ‘That’s what frightens me. You’ll lose sight of your values, the real things in life, the important things. Please don’t go to the palace, Jenna. I don’t want you to go!’

‘
You
don’t want me to go? But what ... what has it got to do with you?’

‘Everything, for God’s sake. I love you, Jenna. Surely you must know that by now? I love you!’

‘But, master ...’ Jenna’s protest was silenced by William’s lips on hers. The last time he had kissed her, on Twelfth Night, his lips had felt as light as thistledown: but not this time. This time, his arms were around her and the yearning passion in his kiss shook her to the depths of her soul.

Terror engulfed her. Trying desperately to pull away from him, she screwed her eyes tight shut and hunched her shoulders, trying to raise her arms to protect her head, holding herself rigid against what must come next: the force, the cruelty, the brutality.

‘Jenna, Jenna, my love,’ William’s pleading voice came from somewhere beyond the tight band of her instinctive defence. ‘Jenna, look at me! Please, look at me.’

Lowering her arms slowly and opening her eyes, she looked into William’s face, so close to her own, and saw there an expression of great tenderness.

‘William!’ Her voice was barely above a whisper.

For months, she had managed to keep her feelings bottled up though in her heart she knew that what made her rise from her pallet every morning was the hope of seeing him; her day did not begin until she was certain he still inhabited her world. She had refused over and over again to believe she was in love with him, but she could no longer deny the truth.

Now his arms were around her again, holding her close to him in an embrace, gentle but so vital that it took her breath away and she found herself responding ardently to his clear desire for her with her own need for him. Here was the man she wanted. Her memories of Jake and his dominant, brutish abuse of her body were obliterated and there was nothing of selfishness in this embrace between two people whose feelings for each other were overwhelming. The force which drove their passion was neither possession nor lust. It felt very much like love.

Then, for Jenna, it seemed as if a sudden darkness descended. William abruptly took a step back, away from her, leaving her swaying slightly, her head reeling. His arms fell slackly to his sides and in the total silence which followed, she was aware only of the heavy drumming of her own heart.

When the birdsong began again, she opened her eyes. William was standing in front of her, his head bowed, his body slumped, as though he had given in to something inevitable, something inescapable and now regretted it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

‘That’s ... that’s all right, master.’

It was a foolish thing to say.