Mel Starr - The Unquiet Bones

I nodded and approached. When Sir John finished his point, I spoke: “M’lady’s hurt does better, m’lord. I was troubled yesterday…even this morning. But now I think the toxin recedes and we may expect good progress.”

“You have been diligent,” he said with that eyebrow in upraised position, “in observing your patient.”

“It is my duty, and a service to which I am obligated.”

“Yes. Onerous, no doubt, but you will perform it nonetheless.”

“No, m’lord. Lady Joan is not a troublesome patient.”

“No. I have observed. She is troublesome in another fashion.”

And with that remark Lord Gilbert turned back to the fire and his conversation with Sir John. I bid him goodnight, but he took no notice. Lady Petronilla sat opposite the men before the fire, her nimble fingers occupied at some work of embroidery. I bid her goodnight also. She replied with a nod and a smile.

I saw Lord Gilbert next morning. We met as I made my way through the castle yard to call on Lady Joan. I think now he watched and waited to catch me there as I passed.

“Ah…Master Hugh. We are well met. You slept well?”

“I did, m’lord.” Actually I had not slept well, but to say so might mean having to explain why I had not. As the matter concerned Lady Joan, this I was unwilling to do.

“You go to attend my sister?”

“I do, m’lord.”

“I think, if she does well today and the morrow you may be released from duty here and return to Bampton. Do you agree?”

“Aye. If the toxin has gone by tomorrow I will have little work here. Nature must do the work now I have set it in motion.”

“And I would have you again employed seeking a murderer…two murderers.”

“That is a labor which nature will not accomplish on its own,” I agreed.

Lady Joan awaited me in her chamber. I was pleased to see both the lady and her hand. Both looked remarkably well. Almost no discoloration appeared beneath the stiffened linen, and the swelling which had burst up from under the plaster was reduced as well.

“I improve daily, don’t you agree, Master Hugh? And the hurt is much reduced. I think I will not need your draught today.”

I did agree, although there were certain things about Lady Joan which would have been difficult to improve upon. I thought this, but did not say it, coward that I am.

“I am well pleased. I think you are out of danger. I will return to Bampton on Monday and see to my duties there. You have no more need of surgeon or physician until the splint must be removed.”

She looked out the single narrow window of her chamber, across a snow-dusted meadow to the forest beyond. “It is an ill season to travel. I am sorry to have been the cause of your discomfort.”

“It has been my pleasure to serve you, m’lady,” I replied in my most chivalrous tone. This was not counterfeit. I much enjoyed Lady Joan’s company, even if she did vanquish me at chess. Her beauty was surely appealing, but I was learning to admire other qualities as well.

“I think you should remain ’til Christmas is past,” she said suddenly. “’Tis but two weeks hence. My brother will offer a feast, and has already procured entertainers. Bampton will be quiet and you will be quite alone there. That should not be at Christmas.”

I found the offer appealing, but was not sure Lord Gilbert would.

“I have duties in Bampton which call me, m’lady.”

“What is there which cannot wait a fortnight?”

“Your brother has charged me with finding two murderers. Thus far I have failed him.”

“Ah, yes. Petronilla told me of the young man you saved from hanging, and the girl who was dead but found alive and well. I congratulate you, Master Hugh. You have skills to save life in many ways.”

“I must be frank, m’lady…”

“You generally are, Master Hugh. I find that appealing.”

I think I blushed. My face felt suddenly warm. Standing before a draughty window as I was would not be the cause of that.

“The youth…who was to hang…it was my faulty witness which put him near the noose, so ’tis not quite proper to say I saved him. More truthful to say I saved myself from terrible error.”

“It is a measure of a man that he is able to see and correct his faults. Many men cannot, or will not.” She laughed quietly to herself. “My brother would have me wed one of them anyway, so be it they have lands and a title.”

She had steered the conversation in a direction I had no wish to follow. Her remark, however, made it clear that no other direction would be ultimately pleasing, for I had neither lands nor title, and was not likely ever to have either. I admit that since the previous day I had entertained thoughts of Lady Joan as my wife — foolish as I knew that hope to be. I thought her words and behavior indicated a disposition in her to consider it as well, although why such as she would consider a poor surgeon, her brother’s bailiff, for a husband I did not understand. I did not want to understand, for then I would recognize the foolish nature of the hope rising in me overnight.

The blast of a horn from the yard indicated a groom calling castle residents to dinner.

“I will speak to my brother…you will remain ’til Christmas.” She said this with much assurance. I bowed and followed her out the door into the east range hall. The poor lodged there were arranging themselves to follow us as we passed through the hall. Many spoke soft words of greeting or bowed or curtsied in obeisance as Lady Joan passed.

I noted several times during the meal when Lady Joan was in deep conversation with her brother. A harpist played at the conclusion of the meal to accompany a final goblet of spiced wine.

“Master Hugh!” Lord Gilbert called as I rose from my place. “Will you accompany me to the solar?” Of course I would, but a true gentleman’s demand is always voiced as a request.

“Lady Joan,” he began, when we entered that small, comfortable room, “castigates me for a lack of hospitality. I am unfair, she complains, to send you back to Bampton when you might remain to celebrate Christmas here.”

I made no reply. Lord Gilbert’s desire for an employee to return to work and earn his keep did not seem to me unreasonable, yet I did wish to enjoy the holiday at Goodrich.

“I am inclined to agree with her, though I think her concern of another nature than she claimed…do you agree, Master Hugh?”

“I…uh…esteem Lady Joan’s thoughtfulness.”

“You do, no doubt,” he laughed. “A politic answer. By heaven, you should have been a bishop.”

“M’lord, I am confused…”

“Aye. Well, so am I. But you may stay, if you wish, ’til St Stephen’s Day.”

“I am much in your debt, m’lord.”

“Hmm…well, you have given me good service and I will expect the more.”

“You shall receive all in my poor power to give, m’lord,” I replied.

“Spare me your humility,” he grunted. “I will be the judge of your poor powers to serve. Modesty becomes a man only when ’tis not hollow.

“There is a service you may perform for me while you linger here,” he continued.

“I am at your command,” I replied in my most ministerial tone. Lord Gilbert continued as if he had heard nothing.

“A guest will arrive next Wednesday. It is Ember Day, but there’s no helping that. Sir Charles de Burgh will remain through the Feast of the Holy Innocents.”

“I will be pleased to do Sir Charles whatever service I can,” I replied to this announcement.

“Oh, ’tis not him needs your service. I do, and Lady Joan, although she knows it not…yet. I have invited Sir Charles as I would have him meet Lady Joan. I charge you to observe the man closely; watch if he may make a good husband for my sister.”