The Witch of Eye (49 page)

The thought of the long walk back to the Temple Steps was utterly daunting, but she was determined to do it without help.

Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the path ahead of her, Eleanor didn’t notice the tall figure of a man leaning against a wall in the corner of the churchyard, watching her intently. And even if she had looked in his direction she wouldn’t have recognised Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, because he was wearing the drabbest of plain brown cloaks and had his hat pulled well down over his eyes. After the procession had passed he straightened up and set off at a brisk walk south towards the Thames, where he climbed into a small wherry and rowed himself swiftly downriver towards Greenwich.

***

O
utside the byre, Robin Fairweather was preparing to leave for Devon. Yet again he had tarried for a few days but, this time, nothing was going to stop him. He had already taken his leave of William and now the time had come to bid Jenna farewell. His horse stood patiently and Mallow was circling, ready to leave at her master’s command. Robin stood tall as he took Jenna’s hands in his.

‘Make him happy,’ he said. ‘He’s a good man and I know how much he loves you.’

Jenna was pleased to nod in agreement. ‘I think you’re right,’ she said.

‘I know I’m right,’ said Robin. ‘Now, I’m unlikely to return before the spring so, if you two marry before I come back with the next drove, always remember that my good wishes go with you.’

‘Oh,’ said Jenna. ‘I’m not sure that we’ll be able to marry. There are ... well, there are some problems.’

‘Well, no, perhaps you shouldn’t do it immediately in the circumstances,’ Robin said, ‘you’ll need to respect Margery’s memory for a little while but don’t leave it too long. There’s nothing to be gained by that.’

‘It’s – it’s not just that ...’ Jenna hesitated, then wished she hadn’t started saying anything at all. She should have let Robin get going on his journey without complicating their farewell.

‘Oh, you’re worried about Jake, are you?’

Jenna’s jaw dropped. She was speechless.

Robin laughed delightedly. He was enjoying this so much. He threw back his head and laughed again. ‘Oh, Jenna, you should see your face! You’re a picture.’

‘But ... but ... how did you know?’

‘You mean William hasn’t told you?’

‘Told me what? What was he supposed to tell me? What does he know about ... about Jake? And how do you know?’

Robin dropped her hands and enveloped her in a huge hug. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. That must have been such a shock for you. But I’m afraid I assumed that William had told you. He’s been so obsessed with you over the last few days I’ve hardly seen him, and he’s been so busy with the salting he hardly had time to bid me a decent farewell. But, no matter.’

He stepped back with a huge grin then turned to mount his horse. Before putting his foot in the stirrup, he looked at her impishly from under the rim of his drover’s hat.

‘Just make sure you talk to him as soon as he gets home tonight,’ he said. ‘Tell him I told you that he must give you some very important news. It’s good news. But I won’t tell you what it is. I’ll leave him that pleasure as my parting gift.’

He swung himself up into the saddle and left Jenna standing in the yard, totally bewildered as he rode away, still laughing, with Mallow barking excitedly in his wake.

***

M
aude had begun to feel very sorry for her mistress. Though by now Eleanor had completed two of the three penitential walks demanded of her, Maude had not heard her utter a single word of complaint. She was clearly a woman of great determination and Maude respected that.

She had accompanied Eleanor with her escort throughout Wednesday’s journey, which was even longer and more arduous than Monday’s. Alighting from the barge at the Swan Pier just by London Bridge, Eleanor had crossed Thames Street then walked north to St Magnus’s Corner. From there, the route took her up Bridge Street to East Cheap, then on to Gracechurch Street, past the public granary and poultry market at Leadenhall Corner, then on to Christ Church in Aldgate on the eastern perimeter of the city, where she humbly offered up a second taper at the high altar. Again, crowds of people had gathered to see her, taunting and jeering, but she never wavered, looking ahead and holding her head high.

Tonight, back at Westminster, all she craved was Maude’s attention to her feet and rest, blessed rest. Exactly as she had done after the first walk, Maude knelt before Eleanor’s chair, gently washing her mistress’s filthy, lacerated feet in a bowl of warm lavender water before drying them carefully in a soft linen towel on her lap. Eleanor winced as Maude applied a soothing balm of lavender and borage to her feet, then relaxed as she first massaged them, then bound them in strips of clean linen.

Dressed in a chamber robe with her bandaged feet resting on a stool in front of her, Eleanor found her eyelids beginning to close. Just one more of these damnable journeys on Friday and then ... what? She had not been told. The only certainty was that she was destined to spend the remainder of her life imprisoned, but she had no idea where that would be. She wasn’t even sure that any decision had been made. The Council would soon lose interest in her. Out of sight, out of mind. No one cared.

‘Excuse me, Madam.’

Old habits died hard but, no, she mustn’t correct the woman. ‘Madam’ would probably be the most polite form of address she could expect from now on. ‘Yes, Maude, what is it?’

‘The Abbot would like to see you, Madam, if that is convenient. Shall I ask him to come back tomorrow?’

Abbot Kyrton. He had been kind to her. He’d invited her to eat with him when she was in sanctuary at the Abbey. Yes, she would like to see him. Perhaps he was still compassionate and she’d appreciate a gesture of kindness. God only knew, she had few enough friends. But how long would it take her to dress to receive him? She looked down at herself, the chamber robe, the feet swathed in bandages, and she ran her hand over her shorn head.

‘If Abbot Kyrton is prepared to see me looking like this,’ she said, ‘then I would value his company.’

Maude smiled. ‘I’ll invite him in.’

The Abbot had clearly been waiting outside the door because no sooner had Maude opened it than he was in the room.

‘My Lady,’ he greeted Eleanor. She smiled. ‘My Lady’ was infinitely preferable to ‘Madam’ and she’d settle for that.

‘Father Abbot,’ she said. ‘It is kind of you to call on me when I am proved to be such a sinner.’

‘We are all the same in the eyes of God,’ he assured her. ‘The Good Shepherd does not differentiate between his flock.’

Eleanor gave a rueful smile as she lifted her hand self-consciously to her hair. ‘Then perhaps I will be forgiven for looking as though I am fresh from the shearing bench.’

The Abbot, unsure how to react to her brave attempt at humour, hesitated for a moment before replying.

‘He might well forgive the sin of vanity, my Lady, if you confess it.’

‘Then I will be certain to,’ she assured him. ‘But come, Father, and be seated. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?’

‘I was concerned for your welfare,’ he said as he took the chair opposite hers. ‘You have been kept here at the Palace for some considerable time now and I imagine your stay will shortly come to an end.’

‘Do you know what is to happen after that, Father? Because no one has seen fit to tell me.’

‘Well, I understand the third day of your penance will be two days hence, will it not? On Friday?’

‘Indeed. I will be required to offer up my last prayers at the high altar of St Michael’s in Cornhill. That is all I know.’

‘You must be exhausted, my Lady.’

The expression of genuine concern on the Abbot’s face made Eleanor feel suddenly tearful. She could be strong as long as she was required to do battle, but sympathy weakened her resolve. Mutely, she gestured as though to brush away his concern. The Abbot wasn’t fooled for a moment.

‘I have a suggestion to make,’ he said, ‘and I hope it will please you. When the time does come for you to leave Westminster, I would like to offer you the hospitality of the manor house on the monastery’s estate, should you need it. As abbot, it is within my gift. While decisions are made about your future, you will at least be able to relax in comfort as you recover from your ordeal. La Neyte is well appointed. In fact, several members of the royal family have stayed there in the past for various reasons.’

‘That is the manor house on the Eye estate, is it not?’

‘Indeed, my Lady. As I say, it is quite luxurious. To be honest, it’s largely wasted on me. I rarely go there except to collect the rents when they become due. I would genuinely prefer to be near the daily routines of the monastery here at Westminster.’

‘Is Master Jourdemayne the tenant farmer in charge of that estate?’

‘He is, my Lady. Oh!’ The Abbot’s hand flew to his mouth in alarm and his eyes widened. ‘Oh, of course, my dear Lady, I’m so sorry. That hadn’t occurred to me. I should have remembered ... I hope I haven’t embarrassed you in any way...’

‘Please, Father Abbot, don’t give it a moment’s thought. Master Jourdemayne’s wife is no longer a part of my life. That was all a dreadful mistake on my part. And I’m more than grateful to you. The thought of spending a little time recuperating at La Neyte will give me something to look forward to. Thank you, dear Father Abbot, thank you for the suggestion.’

‘God’s blessings upon you, my Lady.’

Eleanor thought about Kyrton’s kind offer for a long time after he had left. La Neyte. Yes, the association of the manor house with Margery at the manor farm would bring back some very painful memories, but it might be a way for Eleanor to find the one person who had proved herself a friend rather than an enemy, the woman in whom she had confided so much over the last year or two. She suspected that Jenna would have gone back to the farm because she had friends there, people she had occasionally talked about, like that little girl ... what was her name? Kitty. Yes, that was it, Kitty. Jenna would be sure to go back to the manor farm at Eye-next-Westminster, for that was where Kitty was.

***

T
hey had fallen into the habit of escaping to the hay loft of an evening, just after the fires had been covered and before Jenna retired for the night to the women’s dormitory above the brewhouse and William went to his own bed. It would have been unseemly for her to move into William’s bedroom so soon after Margery’s death, so the hay loft had become the place where they chose to be together, away from prying eyes.

Here they had re-ignited that flame which had first burst into being in that very place and, since Jenna’s return, they had made love here almost every night. At first, it had been enough to come together to satisfy an urgent passion, but now they had begun to savour their new-found knowledge of each other’s bodies, delighting in their discoveries of what gave each of them the most pleasure. They lay together afterwards in each other’s arms, their passion spent, their legs entwined, feeling part of one whole being rather than two separate people.

As Jenna climbed up to the loft to keep their tryst on the evening of Robin’s departure, she found William waiting. He had been lying on his back in the hay, expecting her to come and lie down next to him before he took her in his arms, as he always did, and told her for the thousandth time how much she meant to him. So it was the most natural thing in the world to reach for her as she sat on her heels beside him but, to his surprise, she drew back.

‘Jenna, my sweet, is anything the matter?’ He scrambled to his knees and she regarded him sternly in the half-light.

‘I’ve been talking to Robin,’ she said.

‘But he left for home hours ago.’

‘Yes, but before he went, he told me that I was to ask you to tell me the news.’

‘News? What news? What was he talking about?’

‘He said you’d know.’

‘I’m sorry, my sweet. I can’t imagine what –’

‘He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I believe it has something to do with ... with my ... well, with something that happened before I came here.’

‘Oh, you mean Jake!’

‘That’s exactly what Robin said,’ Jenna responded indignantly. ‘How do you know about Jake? I never said anything about him. What are you both keeping from me? Come on, William, I must know. Jake is my husband. I never told you because –’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.’

‘But how did you find out?’

‘I didn’t. Robin did. He knew how I felt about you because I’d had to tell someone. So he made it his business to find out a bit about your background. He couldn’t understand why a lovely, capable girl like you wasn’t married.’

‘And how –’

‘He happened to find himself somewhere near Kingskerswell and made some discreet inquiries. He had a chat with the parson.’

‘Parson Middleton!’ Jenna’s face brightened. ‘Oh, I wonder how he is after all these years!’

‘You must ask Robin next time he’s here. Anyway, the parson told him that Jake, your husband...’

‘Yes?’

‘He told him Jake had died. A cut with a sharp scythe. An accident, apparently. I’m sorry, Jenna.’

So Jake was dead. As she kneeled in the hay, Jenna held her hands together in her lap. Jake was dead. Curiously, she felt nothing: neither grief nor elation. She had suddenly been relieved of a burden she’d carried for the last six years, something she had kept locked away in a dark place at the back of her mind. But now she had no further need to worry about it. Relief was what she felt, an overwhelming surge of relief. Jake no longer had a hold over her. Whereas she had once thought she loved the man with a great passion, she knew now that her feelings for Jake had been based on little more than physical attraction. Jake was dead and Jenna felt nothing except, perhaps, a twinge of regret that she couldn’t feel any deeper emotion than that. Jake was dead. And at last she was free of him.

She looked at William. ‘So,’ she said quietly, ‘I’m a widow.’

‘Yes, you’re a widow. I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you –’

‘And you’re a widower.’

‘Yes.’ He paused. ‘And you know what that means, don’t you, my sweet?’