Alys Clare - The Tavern in the Morning

Ah, but it was a grave business, the whole damned thing.

And, to cap it all, his arm hurt like the very devil.

* * *

She came out to meet him as he rode into the courtyard. She took one look at him, and said, ‘I told you the ride was too much for you. You’re a fool, you should have had a longer convalescence. Now you’re in pain, and it’s your own fault.’

He slipped off Horace’s back, gratefully handing the reins to the waiting Will. Stomping off towards the steps, he said, ‘I’m a fool, am I? Well, I dare say I am.’

She recoiled at his tone. But she said nothing just then, merely accompanied him inside the hall, where, as soon as he had thrown off his cloak and settled himself in his chair in front of the fire, she knelt before him and asked meekly, ‘Josse, may I dress your wound? I have prepared some of the pain-easing draught, if you will take it?’

He did not know what to make of her. First she hectored him like a fishwife, now here she was asking permission to care for him, with all the timidity of some docile maidservant.

Suddenly heartily sick of the whole thing, he said, ‘Do what you like. You usually do.’

She bowed her head, as if accepting his rebuke.

She gave him some of her draught, then helped him remove his tunic and undershirt. As he sat there, keeping as still as he could, gritting his teeth against the sharp agony, she unwrapped the dressings on his arm, bathed the wound, applied some cool salve and re-wrapped it.

When he was dressed once more, she settled at his feet and said, ‘Why are you angry with me?’

Because it was the thing that was uppermost in his mind, he said instantly, without pausing to think, ‘You didn’t trust me. You didn’t tell me who Ninian’s father was.’

‘Denys told you?’

‘Aye, he did.’

She sighed. ‘Josse, I wanted to tell you. You must believe that! I burned to tell you and every instinct was assuring me I could trust you. And I usually do what my instincts tell me.’ She paused, a slight frown between her brows. ‘But I kept seeing Ninian’s face. He’s so loving, so trusting, and I couldn’t help but think that if I gave in and told you about me and the King, then somehow it would be wrong. Dangerous. Oh, Josse, please don’t ask me to explain! I can’t, other than to say that it seemed to come down to a choice between you and Ninian, and I chose him.’

‘Only another mother could understand,’ he murmured.

She looked up sharply. ‘Yes. Exactly that. How did you know?’

‘ I didn’t. It was something Abbess Helewise said, when I told her-’ Abruptly he broke off. Oh, God! What had he said?

Joanna was on her feet, face contorted with fury. ‘You told her? You told your precious Abbess who Ninian’s father was? When you knew how desperate I was to keep that knowledge secret?’

He, too, was on his feet. Taking hold of her, gripping hard and wincing at the pain shooting through his arm, he shouted, ‘Aye, I did! And do you know why? Because she and I have perfect trust between us, perfect trust! We share secrets far more deadly than yours, let me tell you, and we have the faith in each other to confide anything we choose! That’s what close friends do, Joanna, in case you didn’t know!’

She was shaking her head, and he was surprised to see tears in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Josse!’ she cried, ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you, not when you’ve risked so much and done so much for me!’

He slackened his grip. ‘It’s all right, Joanna.’ He couldn’t prevent the coldness in his voice.

‘But it’s not all right!’ she protested. ‘You’re probably thinking I only slept with you to make you help me.’

It was exactly what he was thinking. He made no reply.

She was staring up at him. ‘You have to believe me when I say that’s not true,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve had enough of sex for reasons of manipulation. I was raped, I was made to give myself to a husband I loathed and I wouldn’t even have considered bedding you as a means to any end at all. Even the safety of my son.’ She paused. ‘I wanted you, Josse,’ she went on softly. ‘Mag told me that one day I’d know what lovemaking really was and when I first met you, I felt the spark ignite. You gave me such joy, Josse. Such deep, wonderful pleasure.’ She reached out her hand and lightly touched his cheek. ‘However it ends between us, never forget that.’

Her hand fell.

For a moment, they stood facing one another. Then he reached out to brush the tears from her cheeks, and, holding her face in his hands, bent to kiss her very gently on the lips.

‘Very well,’ he said.

A swift smile crossed her face, there and gone. ‘Very well?’

‘I forgive you for not trusting me. And I’m honoured to have been the one who showed you what love could be.’

‘I-’ she began. Then she shook her head.

‘What?’

She met his eyes. ‘You speak of love, but I have to tell you that I cannot stay. Which is awkward, since you haven’t suggested I should.’

He took a deep breath. ‘Joanna, to meet your honesty with plain speaking of my own, it hadn’t occurred to me that you would stay. If you wish it, however, then I will marry you.’ That didn’t sound quite right. ‘I mean, I would be honoured if you would become my wife.’

There. It was said. He waited while she prepared her answer, and it seemed that his entire life hung in the balance.

She had half turned from him. Now, turning back to face him, she said, ‘Josse, my dearest love, I do not wish to marry. I have been married and, although I would not dream of speaking of you in the same breath as my late and unlamented husband, marriage is not a state which recommends itself to me. Not in the least.’

‘But-’

She smiled at him now, wholeheartedly, her face full of humour. ‘Sweetest, do not try to persuade me too hard, when I know full well that you are scarcely more keen to be married than I am.’

Was she right? He shook his head, not knowing how he felt.

‘Marriage is no good for women,’ she was saying. ‘At least, that’s what I think. I don’t want to be at a man’s beck and call, be his possession, bought and paid for, with no more say in my own destiny than one of his cows or his sheep.’

‘But-’

‘Oh, don’t interrupt, Josse — I’m telling you how I see it, which is, as far as I’m concerned, all that matters. No. I prefer to make my own way, answer to none but myself.’

‘And how do you propose to live?’ he asked.

She threw her head back. ‘I shall make out very well,’ she declared. ‘I have skills which are ever in demand.’

‘The skills Mag taught you?’

‘Yes. I know only a tiny part of all there is to know — it takes a lifetime, and Mag and I had so few months together. But there are others such as she. And I know where to find them. They will be willing to teach me, because of Mag.’

‘I see.’

She smiled again. ‘No, I don’t think you do. But it doesn’t matter.’

‘And where will you live?’

Her face lit with sudden radiance. ‘In the little manor house, when I’m not staying down in Mag’s shack in the woods.’

‘The manor house?’

‘Yes. It’s mine.’

‘But it can’t be, it belonged to…’

‘To my mother’s great-uncle and aunt, yes. They left it to my mother and, as my mother’s only surviving child, now it has come to me.’

He said, for want of anything else, ‘You can’t live in a place like that all on your own!’

And she said simply, ‘Yes I can.’

He turned away from her, returning to his chair to slump down, suddenly exhausted.