Alys Clare - Ashes of the Elements

Josse decided he would reserve his judgement.

But, whether Tobias had married his wife for love of herself or of her wealth, it still undermined Josse’s case against the man. Because, if Tobias had access to the sort of money that had so clearly been spent on this house, then he hardly had need to risk his freedom — risk his life, even — involving himself with the shady thieving of the likes of Hamm, Ewen and Seth.

Unless some sense of chivalry aroused in Tobias the desire to acquire his own wealth, that was.

Was it likely? Josse couldn’t be sure.

He was still pondering that, while at the same time engaging in superficial conversation with Petronilla concerning various mutual acquaintances in the Plantagenet court, when, shortly afterwards, the manservant returned to summon them to table.

* * *

The food was excellent, and the manservant Paul remained at hand, answering Petronilla’s quiet orders and frequently replenishing Josse’s and Tobias’s goblets with more of the sweet wine. Petronilla, Josse observed, drank but little.

When they had eaten the last of the small, round honey cakes that followed the fish and the game, Petronilla stood up and announced she was going to her chamber to have a short rest. The manservant also having disappeared, it was left to Tobias to share what was left in the wine jug between Josse and himself.

‘A superb meal, Tobias,’ Josse said, stretching his full stomach. ‘You and your lady keep a fine table.’

‘We live well,’ Tobias agreed.

Josse was trying to kick his somewhat fuddled wits into order and come up with a diplomatic way of asking some more penetrating questions about Tobias’s household when, as if suddenly impatient with sitting still, the young man tossed back the dregs of wine in his goblet, leapt up and said, ‘Come, Sir Josse! Let us take a turn outside in the sunshine!’

Josse managed the necessary admiring comments as, with an almost childlike pride, Tobias showed off his estate, from barns and paddocks to hunting birds and fine horses. As the two of them were about to go back into the hall, someone called out to Tobias — to judge by his clothing and by the mud on his feet and lower legs, he was an outdoor worker — and, with a brief apology, Tobias went back across the yard to speak to him.

Josse went into the empty hall alone.

He glanced around. There was a tapestry hanging on one wall, its colours too fresh and vibrant for it to have hung there long. And, on a long wooden table that stood against the opposite wall, there were several decorative objects … a carved ivory statue of the Madonna, a wooden triptych depicting the Crucifixion on its central panel, with angels and cherubs on the two outer panels. The paintwork, to Josse’s fairly experienced eye, looked well executed and, considering the strong, rich blues and golds, had probably been expensive.

He glanced over his shoulder. Tobias was still in conversation with the labourer. He had a few moments in hand …

He opened the first of the wooden chests ranged beneath the table; it contained a quantity of white cloth, which he thought might be household linen. No incriminating Roman treasure there. Moving on to the next chest, he was in the very act of raising the lid when a quiet voice said, ‘What are you doing, Sir Josse?’

He spun round. Petronilla stood a few feet behind him.

There was nothing he could say, no possible excuse he could offer; he bowed his head and said, ‘Lady, forgive me.’

For some moments she did not speak. Then, when finally she broke her silence, it was not to say the accusing words that Josse had both expected and deserved.

Instead, she said, ‘We made a bargain, my Tobias and I.’ She had moved to the doorway, from where she could look down at her young husband as he stood in the courtyard. ‘I know, Sir Josse, what you think. What they all think. That it can only be my wealth that attracted a fine man like Tobias.’

She turned to meet Josse’s eyes; the expression in her own was surprisingly calm. ‘It is true that his marriage to me gives him riches he had never hoped to possess. He was orphaned young, you see, and raised by an elderly aunt, the sister of his mother, who kept a meagre household with no aspirations either to style or to comfort.’ With sudden passion, she said, ‘Is it any surprise that Tobias should have fallen into dishonourable ways? For pity, Sir Josse, a young man must have some excitement!’

‘I-’ Josse began.

But Petronilla hadn’t finished. ‘No, Sir Knight, let me speak. It was the truth when, earlier, Tobias told you that it was he who comforted me in the loss of my dear father, and, not being the fool you and the world take me for, naturally I suspected his motives. However, while he admitted freely that it would gladden him immeasurably to help me manage my fortune, he promised that he would, in return, make me an affectionate, if not a passionately loving, husband.’ She moved a step or two nearer to Josse, so that he could see the fervour in her dark eyes. ‘He promised me, promised, Sir Josse, that, if I agreed to marry him, with all that such an undertaking involved, then he would forsake his — forsake the ways of his misspent youth.’ A faint smile briefly twisted the narrow lips. ‘And I accepted.’

Josse opened his mouth to speak, but, unable to think what to say that could in any way express his feelings, he shut it again.

‘You may search my house if you wish,’ Petronilla went on, her voice distant now. ‘You will find many rich objects, and all are gifts from me to my husband. Or, since naturally he is free to spend as he sees fit, gifts from him to me.’

His shame beginning to abate, Josse found that he was now filled with a different emotion: the stirrings of anger. Petronilla might be prepared to take Tobias’s word that he had mended his ways, but Josse had too clear a mind-picture of the elated young man who emerged from the forest the morning after Ewen Asher was killed. Was it really to be believed, that Tobias had left his thieving ways behind him?

‘My lady,’ Josse said, making his voice as mild as he could ‘you have your husband’s word that he is now a model of respectability. But-’

‘But how do I know I can believe him?’ she finished for him. To Josse’s surprise, she laughed. Only a short laugh, with more than a touch of irony in it, but a laugh nevertheless. ‘Sir Knight, I had him followed. When first he would announce he was off on some early hawking expedition, I asked my faithful Paul to follow him.’ She put her face close to Josse’s. ‘To spy on him. Not pretty, is it, for a new wife to resort to such tactics?’

‘Perhaps not pretty,’ Jose replied tersely. ‘But necessary.’

‘ Not necessary!’ she cried. ‘Those expeditions, every one — even when he was from home for a day and a night together — were as innocent as if I had been there to accompany him! He was, just as he said, hawking.’

‘You no longer have him followed?’ Josse asked, although he thought he already knew the answer.

She studied him for a long moment. Then said: ‘Rarely.’

Was that the truth? Or had she made that reply merely to make Josse think she was not the infatuated, blinkered wife he took her for?

There was, he realised, no way of knowing.

He watched as, Tobias having finished his conversation, he turned back towards the house. Catching sight of Petronilla at the top of the steps, he gave her a wave and then blew her a kiss. With a sharp intake of breath, Petronilla responded.

Then she picked up her long skirts in one hand and, a beaming smile spreading over the pallid, lined face, she ran down the steps and went to meet him.

It is time I left, Josse thought.