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Authors: Emma Campion

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My experience with Gwen had taught me to pause and consider Nan’s position in the household before I said anything. I judged it best not to tell her what I knew, for then she would not be burdened by keeping a secret from her employers.

“I wish I knew what it meant, Nan. It sounds exciting. Mother must have been delighted to have an excuse to travel and be seen in her pretty clothes. Do you think Father has found another partner for a ship? He so wanted to buy another ship.”

As there was always much intrigue around large commercial investments, Nan seemed satisfied with that possibility.

“You are looking very fine, Alice. Dame Agnes is taking good care of you.”

“Every day I work on such fantastic gowns and headdresses, Nan. I never dreamed I would be so finely dressed. But it does not fill the loneliness I feel being apart from all of you.”

We held each other’s hands and studied each other’s face.

Nan broke the emotional silence as Dame Agnes approached. “Try to be content in the home of your loving grandparents, Alice,” she said softly. In a normal tone she added, “I see how Dame Agnes and your maid treat you, and I am no longer worried for you.”

Despite my initial feelings of strangeness, I enjoyed the day immensely and it was hard, very hard, to take my leave of Nan and my siblings. We were almost out the door when John rushed through it. My heart leaped with joy to see him, and to see how much he had wanted to catch me. We held each other tightly—it was the first time we had hugged each other in years.

He stepped back and looked at me, then pulled me out into the yard, away from the others. “You’ve gained back your color and some weight. I am more than glad to see you thriving, Alice. You are better off with Dame Agnes—I told Father that it would prove so.”

“Father told you of his plans before I heard of them?”

“He told me to shut me up. I had asked him to do something about Mother’s behavior. You would have laughed—I told him that I would not stand for her treating you so.” He laughed at himself, a melancholy sound. “As if I had it in my power to do anything to protect you.”

I was moved beyond words. “She has been even more spiteful toward me of late than is her custom.”

“I am glad you came today, when she is well away from here.”

“Please come to dine with us someday soon,” I said.

“An apprentice lives at the mercy of his master’s whims, Alice. But I will try.” He took my hands. “You did not ask whether I knew where our parents have gone. That means that you do.”

I shook my head. I did not care to speak a lie to my brother, who had been so good to me.

He looked disappointed, but not disbelieving. “The suddenness of their journey frightened Cook and Nan. I had hoped you would know who or what might inspire such haste.”

“In faith, I was so glad to hear they were away and I might see you and Mary and Will that though I did wonder, I was too excited to care much.”

Dame Agnes came out to urge us to complete our farewells, for it grew late. Mary and Will ran out to embrace me and deliver wet kisses one more time, and John and I clasped hands as he promised to try to dine with us soon.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I did not understand how I could be both happy and sad about the way my life was changing. Nan used to say that God always mixed the bitter with the sweet so that we did not forget that every pleasure has its cost.

3
 

 

“And shortly, deere herte and al my knyght
,
Beth glad, and draweth yow to lustinesse
,
And I shal trewely, with al my myght
,
Youre bittre tornen al into swetenesse
.
If I be she that may yow do gladnesse
,
For every wo ye shal recovere a blisse—”

—Criseyde to Troilus, G
EOFFREY
C
HAUCER
,
Troilus and Criseyde
, III, 176–81

 
 

• 1356 •

 

I
N THE
morning, noticing my still somber mood, Dame Agnes suggested I might accompany Grandfather to their parish church for some quiet prayer. She, Gwen, and Kate could spare me from the needlework for a while.

“You have worked hard of late and it will be good for you to walk about.”

St. Mary Aldermary was another parish church for wealthy merchants, and as Grandfather and I stepped within, the murmurs of the chantry priests sounded reassuringly familiar.

“I shall kneel in my usual spot,” said Grandfather. “Come and
fetch me when you are finished with your devotions.” He had brought with him a subtly embroidered cushion—I recognized Dame Agnes’s stitching—and was soon settled near the main altar, his dark robes falling gracefully from his broad shoulders. His head, warmly wrapped in a hood that draped about his neck, bowed low over his folded hands.

I loved him so much in that moment. He had always been kind to me, a comfortable companion.

I went at once to the statue of the Blessed Virgin and knelt on the prie-dieu before it. Pouring out my fears and uncertainties to the gentle Mother of God calmed me.

On the walk back to the house we talked of my own father’s wedding.

“He could not believe that God had blessed him with such a beautiful wife,” said Grandfather. But there was no joy in his voice, and, glancing up, I saw that his high forehead was creased and his eyes sad.

“You need not hide his disappointment from me, Grandfather. I know that my mother has been difficult.”

He gave a startled smile and squeezed my hand. “You are almost too good a listener. But that will serve you well.” His dark clothing made him look somber, but his face was kind. “Why do we force our daughters to wed so young? That was their problem, I believe. Margery had dreamed about a life with my son that could never be, the sort of luxury and traveling that only nobles can afford, and even then the women seldom find exciting.” Grandfather squeezed my hand again. “Forgive me, I pontificate.”

“So she would have been dissatisfied with anyone of her own station?” I asked.

“In truth, that is precisely the problem,” he said.

“Then her youth made no difference.”

He grunted and stopped near the gate to the house, considering, his ruddy face crinkling and wrinkling as he thought. I loved the way his entire body took part in everything he did, even prayer.

“You are quite right, granddaughter. Quite right.” His face rearranged itself into a smile in which his pale eyes and white whiskers participated. “You have released me from the burden of guilt I have borne for hastening your parents’ betrothal and marriage. But you, Alice, you seem content to leave your family and embrace that of your betrothed.”

“I’ve been pushed from the nest, Grandfather.”

His smile grew uncertain. “Of course. How thoughtless of me.”

“But I am well pleased with Janyn, and, for the moment, to be living with you and Dame Agnes.”

He beamed. “It is delightful to have you in our home, Alice. And you have such a fine suitor. You shall have an exciting life with Janyn Perrers, I trow, if his gifts so far are any indication. And your grandmother told me that you know of his connection with the dowager Queen Isabella.” He put a finger to his lips. “A family secret.” Resuming his slow walk he added, “I am much relieved by this talk. Bless you, child.”

We had reached the yard, and there, calmly eating an apple from Grandmother’s hand, was my mare, accompanied by a man with the tanned leathery skin of one who spent little of his time inside.

“There you are!” Grandmother waved us over. “Alice, this is Master Thorne, your riding instructor, come to walk you about the yard so that you might become better acquainted with your mare while he judges how to begin your training.”

“Master Thorne,” I said, bobbing my head to him.

“Mistress,” he nodded, his dark eyes frankly assessing me.

Dame Agnes ordered me into the house, where Gwen helped me change into a gown less full, of a cloth easier to clean.

Once I was back in the yard, Master Thorne brooked no delay. I was noting just how tall the mare was when I was ordered to step up onto a stool, and with Grandfather assisting me, I mounted. Sitting sideways on the platform felt awkward. I was glad of having changed—less skirt to manage. How far away the ground seemed, how close the sky.

“Her name is Maundy, but you might find a name that better suits the pair of you, mistress,” said Master Thorne. He then made a little sound, and the mare began to walk, very slowly, very gently.

I felt as if I were a part of the mare and she of me, and the grace with which we moved together filled me with a strange mixture of peace and delight.

Master Thorne looked at the mare’s face, then mine, and nodded. “God smiles on this match. It will bring me joy to train you, Mistress Alice.” Too soon he asked Grandfather to assist me in dismounting.

“I must take Maundy away to the stables, and you will come to me there on the morrow, in the early morning,” said Thorne. My grandparents boarded their horses a short walk away.

On impulse, I hugged the mare’s head. She nuzzled my ear. “The name does not suit her,” I said.

Master Thorne inclined his head. “Choose another, mistress, and we’ll train her to it.”

“A good beginning,” said Grandfather as Master Thorne led the mare out of the yard.

“Have you any name in mind?” Dame Agnes asked as we returned to the hall.

“Serenity,” I said. “That is what I feel in her presence.”

“It is an odd name for a beast,” Dame Agnes said with a chuckle, “but it has a beautiful sound.”

T
HE NEXT
few days flew by as I divided my time between riding lessons and the finishing touches to several gowns, surcoats, and shifts.

“Why are we rushing with the clothing?” I asked one morning. “There will be weeks of nothing to do before my wedding.”

Grandmother laughed. “When Janyn returns he means to escort you through your future homes so that you might tell him what you wish to change and how you wish to change it. You will be too busy for needlework and by then I expect you’ll be asking us to work on cushions and hangings for the bedchambers and halls. We will also be planning the wedding feast.” Her color was high and her eyes bright with visions of social delights.

I said little, choked by all that seemed to be spinning out of control around me. But I was able to set aside my worries and be one with Serenity. Riding was not at all what I had imagined. I had not expected to feel such a bond with the horse, to be so aware of sitting on a living being. The power of Serenity moving beneath me, her response to my subtle movements—I became aware of my own body by the way I was able to sense hers.

That evening as Dame Agnes sat on the side of my bed wishing me sweet dreams I confessed, “I fear I take too much pleasure in riding.”

“Oh, my sweet Alice,” she murmured, brushing my hair from my cheek and bending to kiss me, “your feelings have been shared by many other young girls. God does not proscribe an innocent bond with your horse.”

I believed that she loved me and was encouraging me to be happy.
But she also wanted to prevent anything that might create problems in the future. I saw that in her eyes, heard it in her voice.

“I pray for happiness, Dame Agnes,” I said, “to follow your example in running a household with ease and grace, and to be a good wife to Janyn.” And to be blessed with joy in my partner, as she was with Grandfather.

J
ANYN RETURNED
to London half a week earlier than Dame Agnes had planned, throwing her into a panic. She insisted that all my clothing be ready when he made his first appearance—the very day she learned of his presence in London she had invited him to dine, and he had accepted for the following afternoon.

When I entered the hall, I felt a stranger to myself. I’d first worn my deep green silk gown when Geoffrey had paid a visit, but the gold surcoat, jeweled girdle, and pearl headdress were new. I felt bejeweled and untouchable, as I imagined a queen might feel, distanced from her subjects by gold and gems. It was a heady feeling.

The sun had darkened Janyn’s complexion and he looked glorious, as I imagined a lion might look. As I approached I felt a great power as his expression of impatience metamorphosed into a look of sheer delight and then something darker, a hunger. As if he
were
a lion and meant to devour me. Yet I did not fear him. I felt I shone in his presence. I came alive.

“Sweet Mother in Heaven,” he said when I reached him. “You are a vision, my beloved.” He took my hand and kissed it, lingering over it. The caress of his breath robbed me of mine, but at the same time his firm grasp reassured me. He was real. Our betrothal was real. And he desired me.

“I have missed you, Janyn.”

Now he looked up, into my eyes, and held my gaze for a moment, as if assessing my regard. I was surprised by how familiar he felt to me.

“Master Thorne tells me that you ride as if you have been doing so all your life.”

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