Alys Clare - The Tavern in the Morning

Joanna, he saw, was trembling slightly. She wet her lips with her tongue, then began, ‘Josse, I-’

Making up his mind, he said swiftly, ‘I know, Joanna. It’s late and I ought to be gone.’ He made a brief bow. ‘I’m going back to Hawkenlye Abbey. If you approve, I intend to ask Abbess Helewise if she will help us by hiding you and Ninian. Just for a few days, while we decide what to do.’

Whatever she had expected him to say — and he had a pretty good idea what that might have been — it obviously wasn’t that. With a frown, she said, ‘An Abbey! You propose taking me to an Abbey, when you know very well what I think about God and his church?’

‘I — Hawkenlye is under the rule of a woman,’ he said gently. ‘A woman who wishes as fervently as your Mag did to live a life not ruled by a husband. Who-’

‘I thought nuns were meant to be married to Jesus,’ Joanna said scornfully, as if the very idea were risible.

‘Perhaps. I can’t speak for Abbess Helewise. But, in any case, it must be different from an earthly marriage.’ He frowned; he was feeling well out of his depth. ‘Mustn’t it?’

‘What’s so wonderful about Hawkenlye Abbey?’ Joanna demanded. ‘Why do you want us to hide there? Why is it better than here?’

‘A hundred nuns, fifteen monks and several very muscluar and sturdy lay-brothers, for a start. Brother Saul, now, he’s a good fellow. Devoted to the Abbess, too. He’d knock a man down if she told him to. A man, let’s say, intent on taking away a young relative who didn’t really want to be taken away…’

She was nodding, holding up a hand to stop him. ‘Yes, very well. I accept, but for Ninian’s sake, not for mine. I — well, never mind. When will you come back?’

He was backing towards the door. Her continued nearness was affecting him, undermining his self-control. Especially when she kept fixing those wide, dark eyes on him. ‘Tomorrow. As early as I can. By noon, anyway. God willing.’

‘Amen,’ she echoed automatically. ‘Very well.’ She followed him to the door, and he hurried to open it and get himself on the other side.

She must have noticed. ‘Don’t worry, sir knight, I’m not coming to hurl myself into your arms. I’m going to bolt and bar the door, as soon as you’re through it.’

With her taunting laughter ringing in his ears, he fetched Horace from the barn and, as stealthily as he could, made his way back to the Abbey.

* * *

Helewise had been expecting Josse for some time when, halfway through the next morning, finally he knocked on the door of her room. Brother Saul had informed her at Prime of Josse’s late-night return to the vale, and she had added thanks for that to her morning prayers.

She hoped fervently that the completion of this dreadful business might be in sight. It was deeply worrying, knowing that Denys de Courtenay was at large, that someone of his ruthless nature was out there, hunting for a young and defenceless woman. He had killed once, after all. Helewise found she was constantly half expecting to hear that he had done so again.

‘Sir Josse, welcome,’ she said, as Josse came in and sat down. ‘May I offer you some wine?’

‘Aye, that you may.’ She poured the steaming, spicy drink from the jug she had ordered from Sister Basilia — she had been fairly certain Josse would visit her sooner or later — and watched as he warmed his hands on the mug.

‘Ah, that’s good.’ He put the empty mug on to the floor.

‘Now, tell me what has been happening,’ she said, trying not to let her impatience show. ‘Did you find Joanna and her boy?’

‘I did. I waited at Ninian’s camp. Eventually he came and I persuaded him to take me to his mother. They are still in the old manor house where Mag Hobson installed them. Comfortable enough, but, Abbess, I fear for them, alone out there.’

‘Is it very well-hidden?’

‘Aye, that it is. Which is a blessing because it lessens the chances of Denys finding them. But, if ever he does, then it will rapidly become a curse.’

‘Nobody to call on for help,’ she said, nodding. ‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ She hesitated as a thought struck her. ‘Sir Josse, are we right in assuming Denys is still searching for her? It is now — let me see — three days since he was here. Would he not have returned to check on us again were he still in pursuit?’

‘You forget Mag Hobson,’ Josse said.

‘No, no, I do not.’ How could I? she thought. That poor woman, that terrible death. ‘But you said yourself she could have been lying there for several days. Denys de Courtenay might have given up the chase and be away on the other side of the land by now.’

‘No, Abbess, I don’t think so. I — Joanna told me something of her past last night. And I’ve been thinking, all the way back here last night and again this morning, and I believe I’ve worked out why he’s trying to find her.’

‘Which is?’ she prompted.

‘Abbess, remember how he said she was his niece, whereas in fact they are cousins?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you said it made a difference because they could marry as second cousins, given that they were granted the necessary dispensation, but never as uncle and niece?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Well, what if he’d been pretending to be her uncle to allay suspicion?’

‘Of what?’ Was she being particularly dense this morning, or was Josse being unusually long-winded? She frowned, concentrating hard.

‘That he’s actually planning to make her marry him!’

Helewise felt a distinct sense of anticlimax. ‘I believe, Sir Josse, that you are going to have to explain. Why should he want to do that?’

‘She’s both a widow and an orphan,’ he said, leaning forward eagerly. ‘Her father died some time ago, her mother more recently, she has no siblings and there are no other kin to speak of. Now she’s a widow, too, of a man who had estates in Brittany. Joanna spoke of family of his, but, even so, a widow surely is not likely to be ignored in a man’s Will? All in all, Joanna must be worth a tidy sum now.’ He sat back again, folding his arms across his broad chest. ‘What do you think?’

What she thought was that there was a very obvious hole in his reasoning. ‘Sir Josse,’ she said gently, ‘Denys de Courtenay employs strange wooing tactics if he thinks to win his lady’s favour by brutally killing one of her few friends.’

‘Ah, I’ve thought of that!’ Josse said. ‘As I said, Joanna’s told me quite a lot about herself, and, without breaking any confidences, I can tell you that I believe he may think to coerce her into marriage by threatening to reveal certain things in her past.’

‘Things?’ Helewise echoed faintly. Her imagination was racing.

‘Aye. Unfortunate things, it has to be admitted, but none of them her fault, Abbess!’

Ah, Josse, Helewise thought, but you would say that, being smitten as you are with the lady. ‘Indeed?’

‘No! She was young, an innocent, with nobody to chaperone her and-’ Clearly realising he’d already said too much, Josse very firmly shut his mouth.

Tactfully she changed the subject, moving them away from the fascinating but forbidden ground of Joanna’s lurid past. ‘I would do anything I could to prevent a woman being coerced into marriage,’ she said. ‘It is an estate which, chosen of one’s own free will, can be rewarding and very happy. But to be forced into union with a man one despised…’

‘She’s had to suffer that once already,’ Josse agreed. ‘It would be dreadful to contemplate it happening to her again.’

Especially dreadful for you, dear Josse, Helewise thought. ‘What do you propose?’ she asked. ‘How may I help?’