“She does, if King Henry ever begins to pay
any attention to his friends again,” Adhemar answered in a sour
tone. “I have heard he is sunk so deep in grief over the drowning
of his sons this past autumn that he can seldom be brought to
attend to affairs of state.”
“If the king pays no heed to governing,”
Phelan said in a conspiratorial tone, “it means he is not watching
what his barons do. In his distraction lies opportunity.”
The two men fell into a discussion about King
Henry's intentions regarding the succession. Adhemar claimed he had
heard on good authority that the king would soon take a new wife
and attempt to produce with her a second brood of sons to replace
those so tragically lost in the sinking of The White Ship, while
Phelan insisted that the king's favorite nephew, Stephen of Blois,
would soon be designated as heir.
“There is always the possibility,” said one
of the other noblemen sitting at the high table, “that the Holy
Roman Emperor will die before Henry does, which would make Henry's
daughter, Matilda, a widow. She is his only remaining legitimate
child. He may decide to name her as his heir.”
“Not a female ruler!” Adhemar declared
loudly. “No self-respecting Norman baron will ever take orders from
a woman. Speaking for myself, I'd sooner die!”
“If Henry were to marry his daughter off
again to the right man,” said Phelan thoughtfully, “perhaps we
could follow the husband and forget all about Matilda.”
This suggestion led Adhemar and Phelan into
so involved an argument, with other guests offering their various
opinions on the subject, that no one complained when neither
Margaret nor Catherine returned to the table, but instead lingered
in the kitchen and the screens passage.
Margaret was doubly glad to be away from the
high table during the discussion. King Henry's personal tragedy was
one of her father's favorite current topics and Margaret deplored
his arrogant assumption that he, with Adhemar's help, was going to
influence the king's decision about an heir. She was aware that her
father's choice of husband for her had a great deal to do with
Phelan's political ambitions and if what Gertrude had revealed was
true, Phelan was already deeply involved in activities that put his
entire family into danger.
By the time the feasting ended that evening
most of the men in the hall were well under the influence of wine
and several of them, including Eustace, needed to be carried to
their beds.
Margaret had arranged for Catherine to share
her room, which was the one spot in the castle she knew was
suitably clean. Lacking a personal servant, she had swept the room
and aired the bedding herself, and had brought in linens fresh from
the laundry. Catherine's companion, Aldis, was also to sleep in the
room with them, on a trundle bed.
“We may speak freely in front of Aldis,”
Catherine said when the three of them were tucked under the quilts,
with a single candle left burning until they were ready to sleep.
“Aldis is my cousin. She is living at Wortham Castle until Uncle
Oliver returns from the Holy Land. I am certain she will not repeat
a word we say.”
“Indeed, I will not,” Aldis declared, adding
a further explanation of her presence with Catherine. “My father is
Lord Royce's younger brother and Uncle Royce is my guardian while
Father is away.” She sat up in the trundle bed, pulling the quilt
high for warmth as she waited expectantly to hear what Margaret
would say.
“Catherine, have you thought about the favor
I asked of you earlier today?” Margaret asked. “Have you come to a
decision?”
“I could not approve of the idea at first,”
Catherine replied. “That was before I had a chance to observe the
way your menfolk treat you, or to see what a poor, spiritless
creature Lady Gertrude is. Forgive me if I forget what is due to my
host and to the rest of your family by stating my opinion that both
your father and your brother are unfeeling brutes, without a shred
of respect for any woman, and that you and Gertrude, too, deserve
much better from them.
“As for Lord Adhemar and the way he was
pawing at you,” Catherine continued, “Margaret, I do not know how
you bore his attentions with such dignity. I am sure if I had been
in your place, I would have whacked him over the head with the
nearest platter! It was your father's duty to stop the old goat. If
any man had treated me that way in public, my father would have
drawn his sword and stricken him dead on the spot.
“After this evening, I can well understand
why you do not want to marry Lord Adhemar and why you want to flee
from your father's rule,” Catherine summed up her impressions of
the situation at Sutton Castle.
“Does that mean you will help me?” Margaret
asked, at last daring to hope there was a way for her to avoid a
future that would be unpleasant at best.
“Yes,” Catherine said. “I will.”
“And so will I,” said Aldis. “I have spoken
to a few of the guests and some of the servants. It's common
knowledge that Lord Adhemar has had three wives and buried all of
them. Lady Margaret, if anyone tries to prevent us from seeing you
safely out of that man's clutches, then we will just send one of
the men-at-arms riding off to Uncle Royce at Wortham Castle, to ask
him to rescue us, and he will come at once.” Aldis finished this
speech in a manner that expressed her complete confidence in her
powerful relative.
“No, Aldis,” Margaret said in her firmest
voice. “We will involve no one else. We will do this ourselves,
just we three women and the men-at-arms who came to Sutton with
you.”
“I agree, it's better if we don't let my
father know what we are doing,” Catherine said, “unless we find
ourselves in extremely desperate straits. After you are finally
safe from Lord Adhemar, I will tell Father everything, and I am
sure he will understand, for he does revere women.
“Now, Margaret,” Catherine went on, “tell us
your plan in all its details, for you revealed only the barest
outline when you and I spoke in the garden.”
“I thought we could make use of the Twelfth
Night celebration,” Margaret said. “Everyone dresses up and some
wear masks to conceal their identities while they indulge in
improper activities. I have noticed how people frequently drink too
much on these occasions and, here at Sutton, the proceedings are
certain to become chaotic, with the servants attempting to rule the
affair and my father objecting to almost everything they want to
do. We can make good use of the confusion. I have an idea of how to
use the indecent red dress that Lord Adhemar gave me. I know of a
serving woman who will think it a great joke to wear it in my
stead, after I have worn it for a while and have let everyone see
me in it.” She talked on, explaining more details, while Catherine
and Aldis listened in silence.
“I perceive a flaw in your scheme,” Catherine
said when Margaret finished speaking.
“What flaw?” Margaret cried. “My plan is
simple and quickly completed, so there can be no danger to you or
Aldis, and no blame to be placed on you after I am gone. The moment
we are outside these walls you are to go home to Wortham Castle,
where Lord Royce can protect both of you if my father or Lord
Adhemar should decide to question you in hope of learning where I
have fled. Just provide me with the escort of a single man-at-arms
and bid him see me to St. Helfritha's convent. As soon as I am
admitted to St. Helfritha's, I will send your man off to you at
Wortham. His arrival there will signal the end of your
involvement.”
“You cannot go to St. Helfritha's,” Catherine
said in a most determined way.
“It is where I
will
go,” Margaret
insisted. “My mother was schooled there and while she lived, she
often made contributions to the convent. When I was little I went
there with her on her visits. I have every confidence that the
Mother Superior will remember my mother and me, and take me
in.”
“Certainly, she will,” Catherine responded,
“and then she will hand you over to your father when he knocks at
the gate, searching for you. Only think, Margaret! Lord Phelan
knows you prefer a convent to a second marriage. You have made no
secret of your feelings. St. Helfritha's is the first place he and
Eustace and Lord Adhemar will look for you. Together, three Norman
noblemen can convince any convent to give you up, simply by making
a large enough donation – and by displaying the combined armed
forces they are able to bring to bear against the convent.”
“My father would not dare to attack a
convent!” Margaret gasped. “Nor do I think Lord Adhemar would,
either.”
“They won't have to attack,” Catherine said.
“All they will have to do is ride up to the entrance and order
their men to sit there on their horses, fully armed and with their
banners flying, while your father and Lord Adhemar pay a little
visit to Mother Superior and bemoan to her the fact that you are a
naughty, disruptive person, just the kind of postulant no convent
wants to admit into its ranks. With enough money or the deed to a
wealthy property in his hands that he is willing to offer to the
convent in return for the lady's compliance, and enough men-at-arms
behind him, your father will have no difficulty in getting you
back.”
“You are not as innocent as I supposed,”
Margaret said, looking at her friend with new respect. “You have
considered important details that have not even occurred to me.
Ever since I arrived at Sutton and my father greeted me with the
news that he had arranged for my remarriage, all I could think of
was how to get away before I was forced to wed Lord Adhemar.”
“My father has taught me to weigh every
possibility whenever danger threatens,” Catherine said, “in case I
ever need to defend Wortham Castle on my own. I have conceived a
much better plan than taking you to St. Helfritha's.”
“Please listen to Catherine,” Aldis begged.
“She's very clever.”
“What shall I do, then?” Margaret asked,
giving up her own scheme with a sigh. Her sensible nature told her
that Catherine was correct in all she had said and that further
argument was useless. After listening to Catherine's description of
what Lord Phelan would probably do to remove her from St.
Helfritha's, she was willing to depend upon her friend's wits to
get her to a safer sanctuary. “Do you know of a more distant
convent, one so isolated that my father will never think of
it?”
“I know of a place your father will never
consider at all,” Catherine said. “It's not a convent. Margaret, my
dear, you are going to have to postpone your dream of a cloistered
life for a time.”
“What place are you thinking of?” Margaret
asked.
“Bowen Manor.”
“Perfect!” Aldis exclaimed. “I knew Catherine
would think of something clever.”
“Bowen?” Margaret cried. “Isn't that Arden's
manor house? No, I cannot go there.”
“Why not?” Catherine asked.
“It will involve your family too deeply in my
plans,” Margaret answered, searching wildly for an excuse that
Catherine would accept. She could not,
could not,
go to any
place belonging to Arden, even though he was not there.
“You involved my family when you asked me to
help you escape an unwanted marriage,” Catherine responded. She
shook her head in perplexity at her friend's statement. “Margaret,
I am beginning to wonder if you are really as practical as I always
imagined. Or has the fear of a second forced marriage temporarily
addled your wits? Or terror of what your menfolk will do if we are
caught?” Catherine paused to sneeze before continuing.
“Bowen is in an isolated location, in the
middle of a forest. Since Arden has been away my father has kept a
seneschal, a few servants, and a small troop of men-at-arms there.
All of them are completely loyal to my family. Once I give them the
order that we wish to be private and to receive no visitors, they
will die before revealing that you are in residence. We can stay
hidden at Bowen for as long as we want, and no one will know where
we are.”
“Your father will worry about you if you are
from home for too long,” Margaret protested. Why, oh why, couldn't
she think of a sensible reason to stay away from Bowen, instead of
inventing flimsy excuses that clever Catherine would find it easy
to override?
“I will write a letter to Father and send it
to Wortham with the seneschal's monthly report,” Catherine said.
“It seems to me that flight to Bowen is the only sensible course
for us. There is no safer place for us to go. But if you are still
for St. Helfritha's after all I've said, then I and my men-at-arms
will take you there. The choice is yours.”
“It was foolish of me to think of St.
Helfritha's,” Margaret said. She knew it was equally foolish of her
to think of Bowen Manor or of Arden, but she could not tell
Catherine so. On the matter of Arden, she would have to keep her
own council. Reluctantly, she gave in to circumstances she was
unable to alter. “I accept the good sense of all you have said, and
of your warnings, Catherine. Very well, we will go to Bowen Manor,
but I will only stay there for a few days, just until I can think
of another likely convent.”
* * * * *
Arden's way led from Portsmouth to Winchester
and then northward along an old Roman road, now much overgrown and
with many of its paving stones pried up and removed over the
centuries so they could be used for building materials. Even so,
the ancient track ran straight through forest and farmland and was
easy enough to follow. It was a long ride to Bowen and Arden and
his companions did not dally on the way, for the weather was
growing steadily colder.
When they did pause it was to see to the
needs of their horses, rather than to accommodate the requirements
of men for food, drink, or rest. They were seasoned campaigners,
all of them were well used to bodily discomfort, and no one of the
three made any complaint. They simply pressed onward, in silence
for the most part, and Arden had ample time in which to think.