Alys Clare - Girl In A Red Tunic

He stared at her. He looked worried. ‘I am thinking more and more as time passes that they are not coming home,’ he said neutrally.

She felt instinctively that he was right. What, indeed, was the point of a furtive flight in the middle of the night only to ride away to the one place everyone would expect to find you?

‘I think,’ she said, ‘that I must agree with you. Wherever Leofgar has taken his wife and child, he is not bound for here.’

Josse was looking at her sympathetically. ‘It will be dark soon,’ he said. ‘Do you wish to set out for Hawkenlye and try to reach the Abbey before nightfall?’

She thought about it. Then: ‘No. For one thing, the journey will be easier’ — safer too, she thought but did not say, if indeed this vicious ruffian Walter Bell is abroad — ‘in the morning. For another thing, if we stay for the night then we shall be giving Leofgar a little longer to appear.’

He gave a small bow of acknowledgement. ‘It is your choice, my lady, but I think that is a wise decision,’ he observed. Standing up again, he added, ‘I’ll find that Wilfrid and request that he arranges accommodation for us.’

She and Josse were made as comfortable as it was possible for unexpected guests to be made in the midst of a hard November when nobody had much of anything to spare. Josse said he was quite happy to bed down by the fire and Wilfrid found him a straw mattress and a couple of blankets. Helewise, for reasons of her own, would greatly have preferred the same but both Josse and Wilfrid looked quite shocked when she suggested it and Wilfrid protested that he had already arranged that a bed be prepared for her in the smaller of the bedchambers on the upper floor of the solar block.

At least, Helewise thought as, later, she wearily climbed up the winding stone staircase, I have not been put in the main bedchamber. Nevertheless, she was quite sure that she would be powerless to withstand the flood of memories that would assault her the moment she lay down to sleep.

As indeed she was …

Ivo has been teasing her about taking her there and then down on the rushes, in the hall where she sat on his lap and so aroused them both, but she knows full well that he isn’t serious because he has already shown her the sleeping chamber. He led her up to the larger of the two rooms that open off the solar soon after they arrived at the Old Manor and he showed her the big marriage bed made up ready for them. Someone — perhaps the jolly fat woman whose name, she now knows, is Magda; perhaps Elena — has placed a sweet-smelling garland of lavender and rosemary on the pillows. It is because this bed is so very inviting that Ivo and his bride have been so desperately impatient to get into it.

Now, at last, it is time. Down in the hall Ivo stands up with Helewise in his arms, intending to bear her off up the spiral stair to their bedchamber. But Helewise is no lightweight — she is only a little shorter than Ivo, although not nearly as broad in the shoulder or deep in the chest — and, with a shout of laughter, he has to admit defeat and he sets her on her feet. But there is in truth no need for him to carry her to bed; she cannot wait to be there and she runs ahead of him up the stone steps, holding his hand and dragging him behind her.

Up in the bedchamber, a soft summer breeze stirs the light hangings and makes the rose petals that float in the bowl of warm, scented water set out for their use skim across the surface like tiny pink boats. Ivo tears off his tunic and tries to remove his undershirt without loosening the strings that fasten the neck, and he almost throttles himself. Helewise, breathless with both laughter and lusty excitement, helps him and then positions herself before him and stands quite still so that he can untie the laces that fasten down the back of her gown and pull the red silk tight against her curvaceous body. As soon as the laces are sufficiently slack, she drags the lovely, bright garment over her head and places it carefully over a clothing chest that stands stoutly by the bed. Ivo is naked now, and she finds the sight of his hairy chest, flat belly and obvious strength very arousing; he is the very epitome of healthy masculinity. He is a big man. But Helewise is unafraid and she stares at his manhood, reaching out her hand to touch. As her fingers begin to caress, Ivo lets out a moan of desire and, pulling off his bride’s chemise, picks her up, lays her on the bed and sets about celebrating their marriage for the very first time under his own roof.

Helewise, Abbess of Hawkenlye, lay in her narrow, solitary bed and shivered. Fighting the past, fighting the seductive pictures and sensations that tried to pull her back to the woman she used to be, she gave up trying to sleep and, getting out of bed, fell on her knees on the floor. She prayed, as hard as she had prayed for anything, for the strength to overcome her own memory and the grace to remind herself that she was now and would ever more be a nun.

It was hard, so hard.

It was not until the night was pitch black and perfectly still — even the owls had fallen silent — that peace of a sort fell upon her and at last she fell dreamlessly asleep.

Josse, stretching on his straw mattress, reached out and gave the fire a poke with a length of firewood; it had died down to embers but he thought he could re-ignite it. The morning air was bitterly cold. Daylight, as Josse and no doubt the Abbess too had suspected, had brought no sign of any arrivals during the night.

He wondered how the Abbess had slept. She had seemed distracted yesterday and that did not bode well for sound sleep. The upper chamber would have been cold, too, because although the efficient Wilfrid lit a fire there as soon as he knew his guests were going to stay overnight, a small fire lit only a short time before retiring did not do much to warm a stone-walled room.

He had hoped so much that she would find her son here or, failing that — and with hindsight he realised that it always had been unlikely — that Leofgar and his wife and child would have got home during the night and be there now this morning, greeting the Abbess with smiles and saying, Oh, you weren’t worried, were you? No need for anxiety, it’s all very simple really!

The more time that passed with no sign of the young family, the more certain Josse was that there was plenty of cause to be worried and that it wasn’t simple at all.

He watched the Abbess as she came gliding across the hall towards him from the stair that led down from the guest chamber. Her face was composed but she looked as if she had passed a restless night. Standing up to greet her, he said, ‘The excellent Wilfrid is preparing breakfast for us, my lady, and he reports that our horses can be ready as soon as we give the word.’

She bowed her head slightly. ‘Thank you, Sir Josse. I suggest that we eat sparingly and swiftly and get on our way as soon as we can. I do not think-’ She broke off.

But he knew what she had been about to say. ‘No, I agree,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t think they’re coming here either.’

They did not discuss what was obsessing them until Wilfrid had brought their small breakfast — some dry bread, a rind of cheese and a very faintly flavoured drink that seemed to consist mainly of hot water — and gone off to bring the horses round. But as soon as they were once more alone, Josse said in a low voice, ‘Where are they, then, my lady? Have you any idea? Can you say where your son might go if for some reason he could not come home?’

She frowned. ‘I have been thinking about little else since I awoke,’ she confessed. ‘I do not know very much about Rohaise’s kin, the Edgars, although I recall being told that Rohaise was brought up by her godmother, who is now dead, and I conclude that she is not close to her own parents. It is possible that they too are dead; I cannot be sure. But in any case I do not know where they live.’ She gave a faint shrug.