Alys Clare - Music of the Distant Stars

I heard my name spoken. Edild turned and held out her hand. ‘Lassair here found the body,’ she was saying, ‘as Lord Gilbert and Lady Emma already know, my lady.’

She was addressing Lady Claude. My hand grasped firmly in Edild’s, I now found myself being presented to her.

She looked me up and down with her pale eyes. I could see she was nervous, for her hands were twisting in her lap, the fingers busy at some object. . It was a small velvet bag, also black, that hung from her belt. I wondered what treasured object was inside, for her to clutch at it so in this time of trial.

I reminded myself that she had just lost her seamstress. I put aside the antipathy I felt for her and, bending my head in a bow, said, ‘My lady, I am so sorry for your loss.’

She made a soft sound and closed her eyes. She too, it seemed, felt the death of Ida grievously. There was silence for a few moments as we waited for Claude to speak, then she cleared her throat and said, ‘Ida was a most gifted seamstress. I do not know how I shall manage without her.’

Lord Gilbert was her second cousin, I had been told, and he was also her host. Even so, it seemed that he could not allow Claude’s comment to go unremarked. He got up, crossed over to her and, bending down with an exhalation of breath — he had put on even more weight recently — he whispered something in her ear. She stiffened, frowned deeply and drew herself away from him. Again he bent close to her, presumably repeating whatever he had said, and this time some of it was audible: ‘. . mourn her for herself, even if you do not!’ he hissed.

‘This is such a tragedy, for us all!’ Lady Emma, looking embarrassed, spoke up suddenly and over-loudly in an attempt to cover her husband’s words, but it was too late. Edild and I had heard, and Edild had shot me a horrified look.

Lord Gilbert stumped back to his seat and a very awkward silence fell. Lady Emma was the one to break it. ‘As we told you, Lassair, Lady Claude is to be married,’ she said brightly, ‘to Sir Alain de Villequier, whom you met here yesterday.’

‘Yes, my lady,’ I mumbled.

Silence again. Then Lord Gilbert tried: ‘Ida was helping my cousin to sew her trousseau.’

Yes , I thought, you told me that yesterday too . I felt very strongly that Edild and I ought not to be there, but nobody appeared to know quite how to dismiss us. I noticed that Lady Emma kept glancing at the main door, the one that lead out into the courtyard. After a short time I heard footsteps and understood why. Sir Alain de Villequier strode into the hall.

He bowed to the lord and lady, nodded to Edild and me and hurried to his future bride, swooping down beside her and taking her hands in his. ‘Claude, my dear, I am sorry to have been so long,’ he murmured. ‘I was detained.’

She had edged away from him slightly and was holding herself very stiffly. ‘It is of no matter, sir,’ she replied politely. ‘I have been adequately entertained by my cousin and his wife.’

‘I should have been here to look after you at this dreadful time,’ Sir Alain persisted, his voice pitched low, but nevertheless audible. ‘You have lost your seamstress and your friend, and all we here who knew Ida, albeit briefly, are aware how deep the grief must go for you who were so close to her.’

He was sitting beside her on her bench now, his arm around her thin waist as he tried to comfort her. Again she seemed to slide away from him, and I wondered if she might be embarrassed at his attentions. He meant well, I could see that, but perhaps it was not done to show your emotions so blatantly in the lord’s hall.

At last her reluctance penetrated even Sir Alain’s well-intentioned determination, and abruptly he stood up. Then he turned to look at Edild and me and said, ‘I wished to speak to you both, which was why I asked Lord Gilbert to keep you here until I arrived.’

He wanted to speak to us! Instinctively, I prepared myself, although I am not sure what it was I feared. But it was not what I had thought. Instead of starting to bark out questions — which, before this tense, taut audience, it would have been very hard to answer — he stepped forward, took my aunt and me by the arm and, turning us neatly around, ushered us towards the door. ‘I shall escort you back to the village,’ he announced, ‘and we shall talk as we go.’

The three of us reached the door, turned to bow to the lord, the lady and to Claude, and then we were outside, hurrying away across the courtyard and off down the track.

It was quite apparent that he had wanted to get us on our own, for why else would a man of Sir Alain’s standing offer to escort the two of us back to our house? Quite what his intention was, he did not immediately make clear. We would just have to wait, for it would be improper for the likes of us to ask a man of his position what he wanted with us.

He relaxed visibly almost as soon as the three of us had gone out through Lord Gilbert’s impressive gates. As we strode off down the path to the village, he turned to Edild and said, ‘So, you are the village healer.’

‘I am.’ Her answer was dignified, and clearly she saw no need to elaborate.

‘And Lassair here is your assistant?’

‘She is my apprentice.’

He looked from one to the other of us. We were dressed for work — well, we had just been working — and both wore white aprons over our plain gowns, our hair covered by neat kerchiefs. We are often told we are alike, and I suppose that the garb emphasized our similarity. ‘You look more like mother and daughter,’ he observed.

Neither of us responded.

We walked on for a few paces, and then he said, ‘About Lady Claude.’

Edild shot me a glance, and I raised my eyebrows in reply. We waited. Watching Sir Alain closely, I could have sworn he blushed slightly. Then he said, ‘She is very shocked by Ida’s death. When she knew she was to marry me, it was arranged that she should come here to meet me and stay for these weeks before our wedding with her cousin, Lord Gilbert. She had no hesitation in bringing Ida with her, so impressed had Claude become by Ida’s skill with her needle.’

I badly wanted to ask a question, but was not sure if I dared. He might appear relaxed with us, but if I stepped over that invisible but very high fence that divided a man like him from a girl like me, he would no doubt freeze me and clam up, and then we would learn no more. Ask or stay silent? Ask.

‘When did she come to Lakehall, Sir Alain?’ I asked meekly.

He smiled down at me. ‘When did she come?’ He appeared to have to think about it. ‘Let me see, it must have been a month ago — perhaps a little less.’ I thought I had got away with it, but then his eyes narrowed slightly and he said, ‘Why?’

I had prepared an answer. ‘Oh, I was just wondering why we in the village didn’t know she was there. Sometimes when Lord Gilbert has important guests, some of us are summoned to serve them in some way. But Lady Claude was here to work on her trousseau, and she brought her own seamstress with her, so had no need to call on any of us.’ I gave him my best ingenuous, wide-eyed, not very bright look, hoping he’d take me as a simple village girl who had taken a hopeless fancy to him.

He did. He was, as I’ve already said, a flirt. He had been astute enough to ask why I wanted to know when Lady Claude had arrived, but, like many attractive men, he was susceptible to a young woman’s admiration. He was still looking at me and so, maintaining the pretence of the smitten young maid, I gave him a shy little smile and modestly lowered my eyes.

I had learned what I wanted to know. Ida had already been pregnant when she’d come with her mistress to Lakehall.