June Francis - The Adventurer's Bride

Nicholas remembered the occasion. There had been a time when he had wanted to marry Elizabeth. He told himself that it was highly unlikely that Godar and Berthe could have met before and be in league with each other.

‘All right, I accept that you’ve seen me before, but what are you doing here in this house? Mistress Caldwell made no mention of expecting a visit from you.’

‘I heard she was in need of a weaver and so I decided to come and see her,’ said Willem. ‘I have been to this town before and liked it.’

Did you, indeed? thought Nicholas. ‘Who told you she was in need of a weaver?’ he asked.

Willem rested a shoulder against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Sir Gawain Raventon was my informant.’

Nicholas lowered the poker, thinking that Rebecca must had been in touch with Elizabeth and told her about Jane’s difficulty in finding a weaver. Even so, for this man to travel such distance from his home town, to work for a woman, surprised Nicholas. As did the earliness of the hour he had called and his entering by the back door. His suspicions resurfaced.

‘When did you arrive in Witney?’ asked Nicholas. ‘And what was your route?’

‘I came north with Sir Gawain to Oxford. He wished to visit his printing works and bookshop on Broad Street.’

Nicholas frowned. ‘I was there yesterday and there was no mention of Sir Gawain visiting the premises.’

Willem shrugged. ‘Maybe he wanted to catch his workers unawares. What hour were you there? We did not arrive until after noon. By the purest chance a man called Mortimer was in the shop, purchasing a copy of your latest book. Sir Gawain suggested that I accompany him to Minster Draymore, which is but a short distance from here.’

‘So you spent the night at Mortimer’s manor house?’

Willem grimaced. ‘Despite the unexpected blizzard, he told me that it was not fit for visitors, although he planned staying there himself, so I found lodging in Minster Draymore.’

Nicholas nodded, thinking what he had to say sounded feasible. ‘Where is Master Mortimer now?’

‘I presume he is still abed. When I saw the weather was clearing, I decided to make my way here without bothering him.’

Nicholas stared at him pensively. ‘Does he know your purpose in coming here?’

‘Aye, Sir Gawain told him.’ He smiled. ‘I received the impression the news did not please him.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ said Nicholas drily. ‘It is a wife he wants, not Mistress Caldwell having another man to turn to.’ He paused, for his coat had begun to slide from his shoulders and he hoisted it back in place again with a wince. ‘Tell me, Master Godar, why come here when Tenderden is famous for its broadcloth and you are at home there?’

‘You ask a lot of questions, Master Hurst,’ drawled Willem, ‘and I don’t see how that is any of your business.’

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. ‘Fair comment! Perhaps you would not mind telling me if you are married?’

He hesitated. ‘My wife died recently.’

‘My condolences. Do you have children?’

‘Aye, although again I do not see what business that is of yours, Master Hurst.’ Willem frowned. ‘I would ask you another question despite you did not answer my last one! Why the bandaged shoulder? How did you come by it?’

‘I was attacked on my way here,’ said Nicholas, his expression hardening. ‘Now, if you can explain why you didn’t knock on the front door, but sneaked in the back way?’

Willem’s eyes flashed with annoyance. ‘I did knock, but received no answer, so I came round here and found the door unlocked.’ He paused. ‘Have you reported the attack to the constable? If I did not mishear Sir Gawain yesterday, then you were attacked last year in Oxford, as well as in London.’

‘So you were discussing me,’ said Nicholas, frowning.

‘Only because of your book. Will you be staying here long?’

‘Until this latest attack is dealt with I will be remaining in Witney.’ He thought that Godar looked none too pleased with that news.

‘How many of them were there? Were you robbed?’

‘Fortunately I managed to escape with my possessions intact as there were only two men.’

‘Then you were fortunate.’ Willem walked over to the loom and gazed down at it. Watching him, Nicholas experienced a flash of anger. It seemed to him that this weaver was making himself at home much too early. He wished he could kick him out, but sensed the weaver would not be so easy to get rid of and had a strong feeling Jane would resent him taking charge in such a fashion.

As if aware of Nicholas’s eyes on him, Willem turned and met his gaze. ‘Perhaps Oxfordshire isn’t the safest of places for you, Master Hurst? Do you think the two attacks are in any way connected?’

Nicholas shrugged and a flash of pain crossed his face. ‘Unlikely, although I didn’t believe myself to have so many enemies.’

There was a long silence.

Willem hesitated before saying, ‘Mistress Caldwell...?’

‘She has gone to the bakery and should soon return,’ said Nicholas. ‘Perhaps it is best that you remain in here whilst you wait. The children are asleep in the other room.’

Willem nodded and went over to one of the baskets and fingered the wool. Nicholas decided to leave the weaver to his own devices, wondering what else he might have discussed with Sir Gawain. He doubted the knight had mentioned the names of the men involved and the reason why they wanted him dead.

He checked the contents of the pot and ladled out more broth for himself and then sat down at table, wondering whether Jane would welcome Willem Godar’s offer to weave for her. If so, would that mean she would give him a definite nay to his proposal?

Hell, he wished the weaver had not chosen today to arrive. Conscious of his aching head and painful shoulder, he closed his eyes and went over yesterday’s attack on him. He thought of Berthe and how she had seemed genuinely fond of Matilda. Could it be that her grief for her husband and baby had overturned her mind and she had decided that she must have a baby to replace the one she had lost? But why wait until they arrived in England to abduct his daughter? She could have taken her any time. It didn’t make sense!

His thoughts drifted to his conversation with Willem Godar and he wondered whether Mortimer would be Jane’s next visitor. He was still a bit of a mystery to Nicholas. After an absence of twenty years, the older man had returned to England a rich man in search of the woman he had loved and the daughter he had left behind. Anthony’s twin brother had tricked that woman into marrying him and Rebecca had been reared as his daughter. He had come to work at the Hurst family shipyard every summer and that is how Nicholas and his brother knew her. It was because of Anthony Mortimer’s actions in seeking out his daughter that Nicholas had decided to return to Flanders and take responsibility for his own child. He sighed, considering that despite the emotional turmoil of what had taken place in Bruges, he did not regret any of his actions.

He yawned and was on the edge of falling asleep when a noise close by disturbed him. Fully awake now, he became aware not only of the faint clacking of the loom in the other room, but that he was being watched by Margaret, Jane’s elder stepdaughter.

‘It wasn’t a dream after all and you are here,’ she said.

He returned her smile and pinched his wrist. ‘Well, I’m certainly flesh and blood.’

She laughed and cocked her head to one side. ‘What is that clacking noise?’

Nicholas wished that Willem Godar was a dream. ‘A weaver has come to see if your mother wishes to avail herself of his services.’

Margaret’s eyes rounded. ‘I wonder what she will say to him! I will have a peek at him in a moment.’ She pushed back the blanket and stood up in her chemise. Nicholas looked away and only faced her when she spoke his name. She was rolling up her pallet. ‘How is your shoulder today, Master Hurst?’ she asked politely.