Chapter Five
‘Finally you’ve arrived!’ Elizabeth exclaimed as Alice was ushered into the receiving hall.
‘Not soon enough,’ Alice said, allowing the servants to remove her heavy cloak, hat and gloves.
‘As usual, the November wind is battering this house,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I had a dreadful time getting the children to bed, but at least it’s not raining.’
‘It’s starting to.’
‘All the guests haven’t arrived yet!’
‘They’ll come.’ Alice blew on her hands. ‘How’s the goose?’
Elizabeth let out a rough exhalation. ‘You knew about that?’
It was Martinmas—St Martin’s Day—and the start of the Christmas season. A busy day for farmers, whose livestock had to be slaughtered and dried for the coming months, a profitable one for beggars knocking on doors for alms, and a gluttonous day for feasting. Lots of food, and even more drink. And at her sister’s home Alice would gain invitations to others’ homes.
‘Esther hasn’t been able to talk of anything else for the last two days.’ Alice fluttered her hands in the air and widened her eyes. ‘“Elizabeth can’t find a St Martin’s Day goose! What will be done? Something has to be done!”’ She rubbed her hands to give them warmth. ‘This morning I had to order her to stay at home.’
‘Order Esther?’ Elizabeth strolled into the parlour. ‘Who ever heard of such a thing?’
‘So true!’ Laughing, Alice followed her sister. ‘Luckily for us both, Bertrice had heard from three other sources that a goose had been delivered to the mayor’s kitchens.’
‘Bertrice? How is her ankle?’
‘Mending, much to Esther’s relief.’
‘They always were good friends.’
‘Hence the reason why the gossip of no goose for St Martin’s Day caused a scandal!’
Elizabeth shook her head ruefully. ‘Oh, I know it’s been years since you’ve been to a formal function, dear sister, but it’s not that I have a choice.’
Alice stamped her feet, which tingled with the cold. ‘Out of the two of us, you made the wiser decision.’
Elizabeth smile widened. ‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’
Alice felt a pang in her heart at Elizabeth’s happiness. The role of mayor’s wife was ideal for her sister’s excellent social skills. It was made all the more perfect since she and John adored each other.
But Alice had her own bit of happiness to divulge. ‘Today, William needed no instruction with the abacus.’
Elizabeth clapped her hands. ‘Oh, I’m so happy for you.’
Another pang. This time of annoyance. ‘Not happy for me, for him.’
Elizabeth’s elated smile dimmed. ‘Yes, for him. It’s—’
‘No more, Elizabeth. This is better for him.’
It was an old argument. William was the only child of Bertrice’s friend, Sarah. When she and her husband had drowned, Bertrice took him in. Bertrice hadn’t always been able to corral William. As he got older, Alice would find him wandering the Great Hall or other official rooms. It hadn’t taken long for Alice to realise how bright and curious he was.
She’d always helped families with food, clothing, tools and sometimes with chickens or goats from her own stocks when her father wasn’t looking. But with William, she had given to in other ways by educating him on matters around the house.
Eventually the little tutorials had turned into lessons. And now, William came to the house twice weekly for his studies.
Alice was certain William would make one of the finest stewards in the country, if only someone would take him on.
‘Is it better for him?’ Elizabeth pursed her lips. ‘You know he has to be noble-born to run a household.’
Alice’s frustration burned, despite her certainty that her sister was wrong. ‘Perhaps I intend to put him in a more...accommodating home.’
‘Mary knew it!’ Elizabeth’s smile was triumphant. ‘She knew that if you couldn’t provide for him in Father’s home she’d end up with William in hers.’
Alice wasn’t surprised her sisters had talked about her. She also wasn’t surprised that they’d guessed her plans. Still, she didn’t know how they were feeling.
‘And did Mary protest?’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘She didn’t...unprotest.’
Alice wanted to smile her own triumphant smile. It wasn’t an agreement, but it was a start. William had many more years before he’d be fully trained. In that time she could wear Mary down.
William would be perfect for Mary’s household, and she didn’t live that far away. Alice would keep him herself, but knew her father would never allow William to run his home. Her father wanted the best of everything. And that included having people in his employ with only the best connections.
Her father would take on the eighty-eighth cousin of the King even if he was a thief and couldn’t count with his fingers.
‘Has Father Bernard told William he intends to crown him Boy Bishop?’ Elizabeth asked.
Alice did smile then. William—quiet and analytical—would be the best Boy Bishop in all of Swaffham, if not in the whole region.
It was a great honour. Every year a boy was chosen to be a pretend Bishop from the sixth of December to the twenty-eighth. Under the guidance of Father Bernard, William would officiate all the Advent services apart from mass.
There was a part of Alice that thought William would make a great steward for the church but, as much as William was worthy, even she knew the church would never accept someone with no royal blood.
‘Not yet, but I have no doubts Father Bernard will tell him soon. There’s no one more suitable for it.’
‘He does have the most beautiful voice in the choir, which will help him secure the post,’ Elizabeth said.
‘And he has me to make sure it happens,’ Alice said.
Elizabeth made a tsking sound. ‘This is why you remain unmarried. All your projects and causes. At least this particular project—making a child, with no connections or blood, steward of a wealthy landholding household—will start and end with William.’
Alice rubbed her hands towards the fire.
‘Alice?’ Elizabeth said in a warning tone. ‘It will end with him? It’s fine that you help the families here in Swaffham with other things, but William must be the only one you educate.’
Alice arched her brow. If she could help William, she could help others. Her sister had her projects as well, and Mary’s household was larger than the entire Fenton family’s. Alice had this.
‘Why?’
‘You are my most frustrating, sister.’ Elizabeth glanced through the open doorway. ‘But we’re here to celebrate Martinmas. The Alistair and the Benson families are in the other room, and no doubt wondering what we’re arguing about.’
‘We’re not arguing.’
‘Chatting heavily, then.’
Alice smiled. ‘Certainly.’
Elizabeth clasped her hands loudly. ‘Don’t think we won’t chat heavily another day. But right now I need to ensure that Cook hasn’t packed her satchel and left the kitchens.’
‘Oh, yes! What a tragedy would occur if the precious goose can’t be shoved in the oven and the cook, in shame, runs away!’
Elizabeth shook her head in chagrin, and Alice knew she had her sister on her side.
However, even as Alice’s heart warmed, unease settled upon her. It was time for her to meet everyone. To laugh even if she didn’t feel like it. Even if she disdained the waste and chatter that didn’t help her projects. It was time to begin what King Edward had ordered her to do. It was easier arguing with her sister.
‘Who else is coming?’
‘The Alistairs and Bensons, along with Lyman and Mitchell. Also, a few from the town council and a couple of shopkeepers,’ Elizabeth said.
Trust her sister to be supporting her husband. ‘Ah, to address cleaning up the streets?’
Elizabeth smiled conspiratorially. ‘I intend to ply them with lots of wine until they agree.’
‘Lots of wine? That should make the Alistairs and Bensons happy.’
‘No doubt the Alistairs more than most.’
Family friends for years, the Alistairs and the Bensons were like uncles and aunts to the Fentons. It would be easy for Alice to procure an invitation into their homes for investigation. They might be practically family, but she couldn’t dismiss anyone from being responsible.
Apprehension made her dizzy. But with Elizabeth beaming nothing but goodwill, how could she not do what the King commanded? What wouldn’t she do for her family?
‘That seems like quite a party for St Martin’s Day,’ she said.
‘Oh, I might have invited one more... Just to help your cause.’
Alice bit her tongue. It was what needed to be done, but the mere thought escalated her apprehension.
‘Anyone I know?’
‘It’s a surprise. I have it on good accord that the gentleman who will be attending this evening is visiting family and hasn’t been in town for years.’
Hugh had not been in Swaffham for years.
Alice’s heart skipped. There was no reason Hugh should come to Swaffham. No reason at all, except she’d seen him in that garden and he had said he would talk to the King.
‘You’ve gone pale.’ Elizabeth’s mouth turned down. ‘Have you changed your mind?’
Alice tried to stop her spinning thoughts. It couldn’t be Hugh. For one, Elizabeth would never have requested Hugh’s presence, and two he couldn’t be visiting family since he had none here.
‘No, no. Merely...nervous, I suppose.’
Her sister’s frown eased. ‘It’s the gentlemen present who should be nervous. That gown is stunning on you.’
The gown she had chosen tonight was one of her favourites. A silvery grey bliant with a purple surcoat. Alice had also adorned herself with a silver belt and the daintiest silver and pearl necklace she owned. She knew what the colours did to her eyes. She’d need every bit of confidence she could get.
‘Go in. If not to show off that gown, you must be cold—and the fire in the other room is much larger.’ Elizabeth gave a small smile. ‘They don’t bite, Alice, despite your avoiding them all these years...and I’ll be with you soon enough.’
Plastering a smile on her face, Alice followed her sister out of the comfort of the private parlour and into the much larger public room. After some brief pleasantries and a nod to her guests, Elizabeth departed. A servant offered her a drink, and Alice took it gratefully.
She’d need the warmth and the wine’s strength—especially since Lyman and Mitchell turned immediately upon her entering. She knew them well enough. Both single, both with some means. Both of marriageable age, and just the kind of men who were her target.
Alice took a fortifying sip.
* * *
Following behind Eldric, Hugh stepped into the mayor’s dining room, expecting the reactions of the seated company. In past similar situations, he had revelled in the quiet bite of that moment when complacency turned to outraged surprise or amused curiosity.
Unfortunately, this time he wasn’t able to absorb all the surprised reactions on his sudden appearance before their ever-polite host and hostess rose to greet Eldric, who was already by their side.
With barely a glance from Elizabeth, the servants swiftly rearranged the table settings to make room for him. Other servants left to retrieve additional food.
All of it worked like societal clockwork. Even the guests seemed to move with precision as they adjusted their seats. Except for a few people, he didn’t recognise anyone. Not a surprise since most of them washed their hands of his entire family.
What was surprising was that Eldric had lied when he’d said he was permitted to bring a guest. The evidence of the servants adding a place for him was all too clear. Hugh would have to pay him back later for this trick.
Far less interesting was the fact that Baldrick Alistair was still alive—and fatter than ever. And his wife was already slurring, despite the early hour of the evening.
But there was alertness from the two single men he instantly recognised. Lyman’s eyes had narrowed with unconcealed disgust even as he’d inclined his head. Mitchell had been too young to understand when Hugh had left, but appeared pleased at his return. As if his presence would revive a decidedly dull affair.
Since he, too, had a role to play, Hugh nodded to them both though he was truly aware of only one guest.
Alice—who stayed seated until the moving chairs forced her to rise, whose eyes widened in surprise and then quickly narrowed in anger and something else that flushed her cheeks.
It was a flush he shouldn’t have been able to see in the dim light of the room, but he was distinctly attuned to it despite his impoverished childhood and the secrets that would separate them for ever.
When she rose, he wondered if she would step closer to greet him. He wondered, in the state he was in, if he would close the distance.
Too much ale. He needed more control when it came to her and his mission. And surely it was the ale that had made him agree to attend tonight. It couldn’t be because Alice was here.
‘The seating is prepared.’ Elizabeth’s voice was serene, though her hands were clenched in front of her. Elizabeth—so obviously a lady. She didn’t approve of him being here, but would never insult him or Eldric by saying so.
‘Thank you, Elizabeth,’ he said, ‘for the courtesy of your home this evening.’
The lines of worry around her eyes eased. ‘It’s St Martin’s Day, Hugh, and all are welcome.’
Clever Elizabeth. Welcoming him and letting him know he wasn’t special at the same time. When they were young she’d been friendlier to him—but that had been before Alice had been forced into the empty well.
Seating himself at the place she’d indicated was for him, he loosened the tenseness in his shoulders. He was in Swaffham, sitting down to a St Martin’s Day feast, not entering unarmed into an enemy-laden field.
Although he had to wonder about that enemy field. Because subtly, strategically, Elizabeth had directed the servants to set him a place...next to Alice.
* * *
Before this moment, Alice hadn’t known it was possible to freeze with heat. Hugh was a mere hand’s breadth away. She felt more shock now than she had when she’d seen him at Court.
She felt more of his presence than ever before, too. Her eyes tracked every bit of his height, the broad sureness of his shoulders in his white tunic, the way his black leather breeches clung to his thighs, the gleam of the belt around his waist and the shine of his fine boots.
No doubt it was the unexpectedness of seeing him in the confines of her sister’s home...and realising he would be sitting next to her.
Simply that thought alone made heat suffuse her and froze her to her seat, while anger and frustration coursed jaggedly through her shock. She welcomed those emotions—intended to use them to get through this farce of a celebration.
How dare Hugh show up to her sister’s dinner? She’d been clear in the garden that she wanted nothing to do with him. And now she could do nothing to get rid of him—not without causing a scene. And she wouldn’t ruin Elizabeth’s party with accusations.
So she moved her focus elsewhere. Watched as others were seated around her and counted each place being occupied. Only then did she realise that though Hugh would sit next to her they wouldn’t share a trencher.
She had the honour of doing that with Lyman, who made her very skin crawl. But it wasn’t enough to take her attention away from Hugh, whose tall frame slid into the chair to her right like a sword into a sheath.
The ease of it escalated her hostility and awareness of him. More so as she felt the heat of him at her side smelled his unique scent of snow, pine and steel and watched the graceful lethality of his hand reaching for his goblet. Such a simple task, but it gripped her heart in her chest.
She wouldn’t make it through this dinner—knew that at some point she’d grab that goblet and pour its contents over him. And the blame wasn’t only on this man at her side, but on Elizabeth, who sat serenely next to her husband.
Her sister could have sat Hugh anywhere at the table. Knowing Alice’s resolution, she should have sat him elsewhere—several chairs down, so she couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, couldn’t...feel him. But her sister hadn’t done that because she was testing her.
So she unclenched her fingers digging into her skirts and straightened her shoulders. When a wrong had been committed, she made it right. To do so here, she wouldn’t talk to Hugh. She would persevere through this simple dinner and secure herself invitations to peoples’ homes. The King had commanded her. Hugh, who had inveigled himself an invitation, would have no power over her. As for her sister’s actions—she had courses of food to get through while she prepared her words.
* * *
Hugh grabbed his goblet, peered into its depths, and knew that the King might easily use Elizabeth as a strategist. There were two scenarios as to why she’d sat him next to Alice. Either Elizabeth had forgiven Hugh for all the perceived wrongs he had done against her sister—which he doubted, or she had done it as an experiment to see how he behaved. But, if so, why?
Hugh chanced a glance to Alice. Her chin was high, her body arched away. She was surprised by his presence, and angered by it, too.
Oh, she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, but Hugh had requested an audience with the King that day after their argument in the garden.
A request that had been immediately granted...as if the King had expected it. Unfortunately, nothing of Alice’s relationship with the King had been revealed.
No, his hope for answers was deterred, and he’d left the royal rooms with only more questions.
Because the King had ordered him to return to Swaffham—a town he despised, and whose people despised him. Return and spy on Alice.
And so, like the spy he was, tonight he would use her anger and surprise to his advantage. He still had too many questions when it came to Alice and her relationship with the King. Too many threatening factors, this town, the Seal, the Fenton family. Factors that needed to be tied...fixed...or at least forgotten.
Yet, all the schemes and factors were nothing when compared to the woman by his side. Even in that brief glance he saw the way her chestnut hair curled in the candle’s light, the almost familiar way she had of sitting with her back straight, her shoulders rigid. Pride and determination in her every movement. Traits that were so much her, he would have recognised them anywhere.
Alice—whom he longed for and needed as much as air. Alice—who was very neatly ignoring him. And he was letting her...coward that he was.
He had never been good enough for her. And now his own actions made him a traitor to the King. Ignore Alice he must for his own sake, but a King demanded he watch her. He no longer felt like he was choking on the lies and deceit, but drowning in them.
‘It seems as if we’re sharing tonight.’
Hugh rolled the tenseness in his shoulders and turned to his right. A petite woman was looking expectantly at him. A similarly built man sat to her right. Most likely her husband, who wouldn’t be sharing her trencher as was his right.
‘It appears I’ve disrupted the seating arrangements,’ he said.
‘I don’t mind.’
He recognised that light in the woman’s eyes. He glanced at her husband, who sat with his new trencher partner. There were no warning glares sent his way. It seemed the husband didn’t mind either.
‘You don’t remember me, do you?’
She was pretty, with dark hair and hazel eyes, her cheeks and chest plump with good food and health. If he had known her, he’d forgotten her—as he had everything about this town.
He gave her an appreciative glance and noticed the light flaring in her eyes. ‘I’d like to be reminded,’ he said.
The arch of a brow, and familiarity flashed through him. It was coming to him now.
‘Maybe I won’t tell you...to see how you’ll tempt the information from me,’ she teased.
He kept his expression neutral as he glanced at the feast he was to load the trencher with. ‘May I?’
‘Of course.’
‘Is there anything you don’t want?’ he asked, as he reached for the serving spoon for the goose, and shifted to give room for the servant to pour the sauce.
‘I think I’ll take...everything.’
She’d been greedy back then as well, and had taken full advantage of the men who courted her. Even when she’d agreed to Gerald’s proposal she had flirted. Now he wondered if it went beyond that.
‘Everything is the least of what you deserve, Helen.’
‘Ah, that didn’t take long at all—and I thought it would be a fun way to pass the time. Whatever are we to do now?’
He laid thin slices of goose on the trencher and reached for the vegetable medley. ‘About what?’
‘About you coaxing other matters from me.’
She was propositioning him, and by the way her husband had turned his back and was whispering with his new companion it was clear this was sanctioned by their marriage vows.
And all of it was occurring under the watchful eye of the serene Elizabeth and her husband, Mayor of Swaffham. Was this evidence of more approval?
He’d thought the Royal Court brimmed with deception and unchecked lust, but this old town was no better.
‘You have me at a disadvantage,’ he said. ‘How am I to know what tempts you?’
There was a slight brush of her hand against his as she tore off a piece of their trencher. ‘You’re a clever man; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’
Her lips were at full pout, her eyes knowledgeable, but open to appear guileless, innocent, when she was anything but.
‘You have too much faith in me. I’m afraid I’m not that clever.’
He saw the light dim in her eyes before she returned to her food. She took a few more bites before she gave a tap to her husband’s arm. Oh, she understood the game well enough. He’d been polite, but had fully declined her proposition.
Still, simply the fact that it had happened made him feel sick. She had taken holy vows before God with the man on her right. If he was ever so lucky as to earn a wife, he would fight God and the Devil to keep her faith in him. Naive beliefs, he knew, but nonetheless true for him.
He was a man grown, who had travelled, fought and killed. He shouldn’t be surprised that Swaffham now reflected the insidiousness prevailing over the rest of the country.
He was a twice-made fool. First with the lingering thought that Alice remained untouched, and second that this town he hated had remained the same as well.
He had drunk so much ale before he came here, and now he imbibed the wine. None of it was softening his thoughts. He was on that most hated plain of not being sober and yet not drunk enough.
Eyeing his goblet, but not taking a drink, he signalled to a servant to serve the rest of the feast laid out before them.
Knowing that nothing could make him forget his restless thoughts, he would be better keeping sober in order to perform his futile mission. Fake though it was, the King had ordered him here, and he knew he had to go through the motions.
Appearances were everything in this game.
But by all that was holy, he wanted only one night to forget where and who he was.