The King's Mistress (30 page)

Within the little garden I chose a bench near the entrance, as far as possible from a couple farther along the path who were locked in an embrace. The air was fresher now that we were away from the hall and yard, and I breathed more easily.

“When did you learn of your loss?” William asked, taking my hand and gently stroking it.

“Earlier today, after the midday meal,” I said. “Queen Philippa is most kind to me. But she fears the pestilence, and with good cause.”

William studied me for a long while as I sat mute in my grief. The damp air was not as refreshing as I had hoped, and I realized that my gown might be taking on moisture from the bench. As I rose to feel behind me, William startled me by pulling me into his arms. For a moment he simply held me. I was tempted to melt into the comfort of his strength, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. But when he bent to kiss my forehead, I pushed out of his embrace.

“I was not asking for sympathy,” I said, shaking out the skirt of my gown.

He raised his hands, palms toward me. “I beg your forgiveness if I have transgressed, Mistress Alice. But I cannot help but feel sorrow for your pain. I love you. You cannot be unaware of my feelings. And in loving you, I am sad for you in your mourning.”

“Love? We’d not spoken of love.” I backed away. I could not trust
myself, my judgment, when my mind was so dull with sorrow, but despite his charm, his declaration of love disturbed me. It was too soon.

“Forgive me. I do not mean to take advantage of your need.” He took a few steps away, then turned back with an air of decision. “You must see your family in London.”

If only it were so simple, to know what I must do and to take care of it myself. “The queen will not have it.”

“I will take you there.”

My heart leaped, but reason quickly intervened. “I cannot let you risk the queen’s anger for my sake.”

“It is what you need, and I offer it to you. I am John of Gaunt’s man. He will vouch for me if you doubt my intentions.”

He was a knight. The queen might see her way to forgive me for going with someone who could protect me. Countess Joan seemed to whisper in my ear,
Take his offer
. I did so, and despite my misgivings about his sincerity, did not ask what William sought to gain by risking this.

E
ARLY THE
following morning we slipped out of the palace, Gwen and William’s servant Alan accompanying us. A groom waited for us with three horses—William had not been certain that Gwen could ride, so she climbed up behind Alan—and we made our way downriver to the barge awaiting us. I was impressed by William’s having planned the journey in so little time. I could see by Gwen’s expression that she was touched by all that he was risking for me, and the care he’d taken to see to our comfort. I was grateful that he left me to my own anxious thoughts as we traveled downriver.

How strange it was to return to my childhood home after all that time. I remember it seemed both wonderfully familiar and disturbingly changed. Of course, it was I who had changed. Having lived in palaces for several years, the courtyard looked cramped, the hall dim and shabby. But all was still precious to me.

Nan burst into tears on seeing me, and Mary, now a beautiful young woman, did likewise. I laughed and cried as I held them both in tight embraces. Father stood at a slight distance, stooped with grief, his eyes dull. I went to him and hugged him, but he merely patted my back once, as if acknowledging my presence and my effort but having nothing to give me in return.

“Margery could not hold on, she would not wait for me. Your mother would not wait for me.”

Seeing him so shattered, I could no longer be angry with him for pushing me at Janyn when he knew it would alienate Mother. I saw him for the weak man he always was.

“I am sorry I was not here to help in their illnesses, Father.”

“She would not have you in the house, Alice. I wanted to send for you, but she would not have you here.”

Mary put her arm round me and led me away. “He does not mean to hurt you,” she whispered. “Since Mother took ill he is often confused.”

“How is John?”

“He is well. You’ll remember that he has a kind master with a big family? I do believe that he will wed one of his master’s daughters when his apprenticeship is over. Her name is Agnes, like Grandmother, and she is a gladsome woman who sees to it that he is well cared for.” Her eyes were bright with affection.

How happy I was to be with my sister. My heart was a little lighter for being in her dear presence.

“How have you managed since Janyn’s death?” she asked. “I wished I could come to you then, to comfort you.”

“Bless you, Mary.” I kept my voice low, not wishing to share such feelings with William. Gwen had disappeared with Alan, into the kitchen, but William had remained in the hall. He stood gazing out the partly open doors into the garden beyond, pretty even in the rain. “I have managed as well as any grieving widow manages. Mornings are the worst, when I wake and gradually remember why I am sleeping with other women. Janyn and I were together only four years and yet it feels as if we always shared a bed. I do not understand how my heart works. It has its own sense of time.”

Mary pressed my hand. “He is handsome, your friend,” she said, glancing over at William.

“This is not Janyn,” my father suddenly said. He must have been watching Mary.

“No, Father, Janyn is no longer with us. This is my friend Sir William Wyndsor. It is thanks to him that I am here today. He arranged for the barge and escorted me here.”

“Who told you of Mother’s death?” he asked, ignoring William.

“Geoffrey told me about Mother and Will yesterday.”

I did not think Father a suitable guardian for Mary in his diminished
state. Nor could I bear to think what it must be like for her, living in that house of mourning, a place haunted by such recent suffering. Conceiving of a scheme to rescue her, I took Mary aside and asked her how she liked her grandmother, Dame Agnes. When she said she liked her very much, I decided on my plan. I would take her and Nan to Dame Agnes and ask her to take them in. Servants could attend Father; Dame Agnes would see to it.

With little more ado all six of us walked the short distance to Grandmother’s home.

Dame Agnes had aged also, but with grace, and though she seemed uncertain about how she should respond on recognizing me, soon folded me in her arms and wept with joy.

“You look healthy and so beautiful, my Alice. I have worried about you, suffering so much loss away from your family.”

“I have missed you and worried about you as well. All of you,” I told her. When I felt I’d answered enough questions to content her for a while I made my proposal.

She nodded. “I have myself considered such an arrangement. I did not like what I saw there.” She looked over my shoulder at Mary. “What think you of your sister’s idea?”

Mary looked to me for a sign of how to respond.

“I was very happy living here,” I said. “I think you could be as well.”

Mary’s smile was shy. “Then I would like it.”

Dame Agnes clapped her hands. “It is settled! Dear Nan shall be both your lady’s maid, Mary, and a help to me in managing the household.”

I saw in Mary’s and Nan’s eyes a release from fear, and I hugged Dame Agnes with all my strength.

“And you, Alice,” she said, holding me at arm’s length and looking deep into my eyes, “what of you? Will we see more of you?”

I explained that the queen still believed it to be dangerous to visit the city, with the pestilence about.

Grandmother nodded and hugged me. “Then I hope when it passes we might see you more often. Perhaps if you remarried?” She nodded toward William, who had quietly settled on a bench near the fire, his long legs extended to the dry warmth. A servant had brought him ale and bread and cheese, and he’d contented himself with that while we talked. “He is handsome. You called him ‘sir.’ He is well born?”

“I am most grateful to Sir William for risking the queen’s ire to bring me here today, but we are merely friends.”

“It is a good beginning.” Dame Agnes and Mary exchanged glances.

William had not noticed my regarding him, but he did look up as Dame Agnes approached him, her hands outstretched. His guarded expression bespoke his state of vigilance, emphasizing for me the generosity of his gesture in bringing me here, coming among the family the queen forbade me to see. I could not help but wonder again at his motive.

He rose to take Dame Agnes’s hands.

“God bless you for what you’ve done for my Alice,” she said, “and for all of us.”

“My heart was heavy to see her grief yesterday and to learn that she had been forbidden to come to her family, Dame Agnes. I feel blessed to have witnessed this reunion.” He bowed his head to her, and the smile on his face when he looked up again lit the hall.

A knock on the door prevented further conversation.

A servant announced a page from the king’s household. He bowed to Dame Agnes, and then the rest of us, and informed us that the king had sent an escort for my safe return to Windsor. The king! I felt weak in the knees, terrified what this might mean. We had not only been discovered, but the king himself had commanded our return. I glanced at William, who simply nodded to me, his expression blank. That did nothing to alleviate my panic.

Dame Agnes questioned me with her eyes, but aloud she offered the king’s men some ale in the kitchen while I bade farewell to my sister. William followed the page to see to the men.

“He is very handsome,” said Mary again.

“A bit like Janyn?” asked Dame Agnes, seemingly to herself.

They were babbling, pretending nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

I hugged Mary. “Be happy, my dear sister.”

My mind was racing, realizing we had been followed, wondering what it meant that King Edward himself had sent an escort. At least I had done some good. I had no doubt that Mary would be in loving, competent hands in my grandmother’s house. She was so pretty and good natured, my grandmother would soon be fussing over her as she had me.

Nan held me tight, weeping for the joy of being reunited and the pain of its being for so brief a time.

“I shall try to return,” I said, my attention already elsewhere. I feared what the queen’s ire might mean for Bella, and cursed myself for taking the risk. Yet I had helped my family, and prayed that would earn me some grace in God’s accounting.

In parting from Dame Agnes, I saw that she was moved as well. She stroked my cheek. “You look so well, so beautiful. Master Martin Perrers explained nothing to us. It was your friend Geoffrey Chaucer who finally told me why you never came to us.”

I could not imagine what explanation he had made, for he knew how dangerous the truth would be to them. “What did he tell you?”

“How your mother’s venom had frightened you away,” Grandmother said, nodding as if to reassure me that she understood. “She was a madwoman.”

I was thankful for Geoffrey’s clever explanation.

William and I had little chance to talk as the king’s men hurried us through the noisome streets to the barge, the king’s own, anchored where ours had been. Once we were on the river, I quietly asked William what he’d learned from the men while in the kitchen. “Am I to be punished? Sent away?”

“His Grace is not angry with you but with the queen, Alice.” William watched my reaction.

“What do you mean?”

“What I said. He heard Queen Philippa ranting about your having gone to your family, how you could not be permitted to return for you would bring the pestilence with you, on and on, and silenced her with some quiet comment. The page says that you are never to be denied the protection of the queen’s household.” He took my hands, still searching my face. “Am I in competition with the king in loving you?”

“No!” That he should even think so troubled me. “I am grateful for his protection, but I should think his anger with the queen is over something else, and I was—most fortunately for me—a convenient argument.” I touched William’s hand. “I cannot remember a more loving gift from a friend than that which you’ve given me today, William. I pray that someday I am able to give you something as precious in return. Bless you for the peace of mind you have brought me.”

He took my hand and kissed it, then pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the mouth. It was like kissing Janyn all over again,
sending heat through my body and leaving me breathless afterward. William had felt my response and smiled with satisfaction.

“You shall be my wife, Alice. I swear.”

It was a most unexpected declaration and too much to contemplate with all the emotions roiling inside me from seeing my family again. I chose my words with care, for I was grateful to William. “As to that, I cannot say. But I pray that God grants you happiness.”

I was sorry that his only response to this was a brooding silence for the duration of the journey. Having no distraction, I gave myself over to my fear of facing the queen and king.

When we arrived at the Windsor dock I was escorted to King Edward’s private parlor. William insisted on accompanying me, and I appreciated the gesture. Despite what he’d heard from the page, I knew how quickly the king and queen could change their minds.

Regal in red and gold, King Edward rose from his chair to thank William for keeping me safe, and sent him off. Then, with what seemed sincere concern, he invited me to sit with him, share wine and a light meal, and recount all that had transpired. He commended me for taking Mary from that unhappy household and asked if there was anything he might do to ease my mind further about my family.

“Your Grace, I would see my beloved daughter.”

“And why not? Queen Joan is not so far away.”

My heart sang. “And as soon as you judge it safe, Your Grace, I would also visit my sister Mary more often. She will soon be old enough to wed and I treasure these last years of her girlhood.”

Placing a beringed hand on each of my shoulders, he vowed to arrange for me to see my sister as soon as he deemed it safe.

“For I would not knowingly help you walk into danger, but neither do I wish to prolong this lack of a sister’s companionship. And I have not forgotten my promise that your daughter will one day abide near you. But why did you not come to me with your fears for your family, Mistress Alice?”