The Tavern in the Morning Read online

  She was on her feet now, hands on her hips, leaning over Josse with an expression like thunder. He read in her face and body her humiliation, her hurt pride, her misery, her helpless subservience. To a woman like her, what a burden it all must have been.

  ‘And then,’ she resumed, calmer now, ‘Thorald died. Went out hunting, put his horse at a brook, and shot off head-first when his horse stumbled.’ She looked at Josse, looked away again. ‘They do say the horse was lame. A sore foot, where a stone had lodged beneath the shoe.’

  ‘And then you fled to England,’ Josse finished for her.

  ‘Before any of my horrible in-laws could arrive and conjure up any other sort of imprisonment for me. Yes. I fled, all right.’

  ‘Why here?’

  ‘You know why,’ Joanna said, exasperated. ‘Because Mag Hobson lived here.’

  ‘Why not return to your mother?’

  ‘My mother died, for one thing. And for another, if she had been still alive, wouldn’t that be a sure way of allowing Denys to find me again? It’d be the first place he’d have looked. And surely you can see that I’d hardly have welcomed that.’

  ‘He is your relative, though,’ Josse persisted. ‘Family duty would ordain that he offer you help, and—’

  ‘NO!’ Joanna shouted. ‘Josse, he was the one who got me into such a mess! He—’ She stopped short. After a brief pause, she said more calmly, ‘He was the last person I wanted to see.’

  Josse had the distinct feeling she had been going to say something else but had changed her mind. He waited in case she spoke again, but she didn’t.

  ‘You came to Mag Hobson,’ he said slowly, ‘and she brought you here, to this house.’

  ‘Yes. It belonged to my mother’s great-uncle and his wife. They were nice – I used to be brought to stay with them when I was a child.’

  ‘When you met Mag, who worked for them?’

  ‘Yes. I spent hours with her – she used to let me help her, and she taught me a great deal. My great-uncle and aunt thought the world of her and, when they died, she went on looking after their house. She always thought that, one day, someone would come along and claim it, and she said it was her duty to the old couple to keep things neat and tidy.’ She paused. ‘I truly loved her, you know. She was a wonderful woman. And I believe she loved me, too.’

  ‘I think she must have done,’ Josse agreed. ‘Hiding you here was a good solution. Nobody knew about this house, and the chances of anybody – of Denys finding it by pure accident were slim.’

  ‘He must have been waiting for her when she went back to her shack after coming here to see Ninian and me,’ Joanna said slowly. ‘Any number of people could have told him where to find Mag Hobson – he’d only have had to ask. I wanted her to stay here, with us, where it was safe, but she said no, she didn’t like to leave her place unattended. Unloved, was what she said.’ Joanna smiled faintly. ‘I wish she had stayed, though. We knew Denys was in the vicinity – we’d … Never mind. But, even then, she wouldn’t stay with us.’ Joanna’s eyes had filled with tears. ‘So she went home,’ she whispered through them, ‘and he found her. Found her, beat her, broke her fingers, and still she didn’t tell him where we were.’ She swallowed. ‘Then he pushed her in the water and drowned her.’

  She stood shaking, crying as if her heart had broken. Josse, unable to stand the pitiful sight, stood up and took her in his arms.

  This time, there was no passionate reaction from her, and he hadn’t expected there would be. She leaned agaist him like a weary child, her pride and her courage spent, her defences finally breached.

  With one hand he smoothed her hair, as he had done before. He held her, murmuring quietly, but she couldn’t have heard. Not that it mattered, since he was talking nonsense. He went on holding her, giving her the warmth and support of his physical presence, while she cried out all her pain, her guilt and her sorrow.

  And, eventually, she stopped.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘That was quite a tale,’ Josse said, gently disentangling himself from Joanna.

  She was busy wiping her eyes and her face with the end of her sleeve. ‘Yes.’ She managed a rainbow smile. ‘I’m sorry to have been such a child, crying like that. Only it’s really the first time I’ve spoken of it.’

  ‘Is it? You didn’t confide in Mag?’

  The smile was more confident now. ‘There was no need. Mag knew.’

  ‘I hadn’t realised she had gone on being involved in your life. While you were married, I mean.’

  ‘She wasn’t.’

  ‘Then how did she know?’

  The smile was positively mischievous now, as if Joanna were enjoying the teasing. ‘Had you known her, you wouldn’t need to ask. She just knew. She had a way of studying you, perhaps holding your hand, and she’d ask one or two apparently irrelevant questions, then she’d say, Ah, yes. I know what you need, my girl. And she did. Whether it was one of her infusions for some small ill when I was young, or whether it was the need for a safe, loving refuge when I was all but defeated by my own problems, she provided it. And she always made you feel whole again.’

  There was a silence, as if they were both honouring Mag Hobson’s memory. Then Josse said, ‘I wish I had known her.’

  Joanna looked at him. ‘You’d have liked her. She’d have liked you, too, what’s more, and that would have been quite an honour. She didn’t hold with men as a rule.’

  ‘She didn’t?’

  ‘No. Can you blame her? She wanted to be an independent woman, living honestly on the small amounts she made from her cures and her comforts. Not that she ever charged much, only what people could afford. If they couldn’t afford anything, she treated them for nothing. You saw how she lived, you can see she wasn’t wealthy!’

  ‘Aye, I can.’

  ‘But that wasn’t good enough for God’s Holy Church. Oh, no. All her life, Mag had to cope with meddlesome priests and clerics, poking their long noses in, demanding to know what she was up to, how she brought about her cures, what she thought she was doing making her potions, and all but accusing her of consorting with devils.’ Joanna was rapidly working herself up again. ‘Just because she was different, just because she saw God in terms other than those laid down by those blasted priests, they shunned her, cast her out, turned her into someone who had to hide herself away, so that people who genuinely needed her help had to sneak out to see her in the middle of the night!’ She paused for breath, turning blazing eyes on Josse. ‘Surely you can understand why she disliked male company!’

  ‘Not all men are priests,’ Josse said reasonably.

  ‘Oh, I know, but sheriffs and lordlings and puffed-up knights were almost as bad. It’s the way of the world, Josse. Men take against women who demonstrate that they can do well enough on their own. Without some husband telling them what they may or may not do. It hurts their pride, I suppose.’

  Josse was thinking. ‘I believe you may be right,’ he said.

  She grinned. ‘I know I am. Did you ever marry, Josse?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Perhaps because I reckoned I’d do well enough without some wife ordering my days for me.’

  Her brows went down in a scowl as her mouth opened to make some retort, but then her face cleared and she began to laugh. ‘Sir knight, I believe you are making fun of me.’

  ‘A little,’ he admitted. ‘It’s good to hear you laugh.’

  ‘It’s good to want to,’ she murmured.

  They stood facing one another, an arm’s length apart. He thought, I could embrace her now, kiss her sweet face and, in all likelihood, awake that passion in her again. Which would be joyous, for both of us, and would perhaps give her comfort of a sort she has never before received.

  Or I could do as my conscience tells me I should and, for all that it is late, set out for Hawkenlye. The gates will be barred for the night, but I can beg a bed from the monks in the vale. I’ve done it often enough before.

/>   Joanna, he saw, was trembling slightly. She wet her lips with her tongue, then began, ‘Josse, I—’

  Making up his mind, he said swiftly, ‘I know, Joanna. It’s late and I ought to be gone.’ He made a brief bow. ‘I’m going back to Hawkenlye Abbey. If you approve, I intend to ask Abbess Helewise if she will help us by hiding you and Ninian. Just for a few days, while we decide what to do.’

  Whatever she had expected him to say – and he had a pretty good idea what that might have been – it obviously wasn’t that. With a frown, she said, ‘An Abbey! You propose taking me to an Abbey, when you know very well what I think about God and his church?’

  ‘I – Hawkenlye is under the rule of a woman,’ he said gently. ‘A woman who wishes as fervently as your Mag did to live a life not ruled by a husband. Who—’

  ‘I thought nuns were meant to be married to Jesus,’ Joanna said scornfully, as if the very idea were risible.

  ‘Perhaps. I can’t speak for Abbess Helewise. But, in any case, it must be different from an earthly marriage.’ He frowned; he was feeling well out of his depth. ‘Mustn’t it?’

  ‘What’s so wonderful about Hawkenlye Abbey?’ Joanna demanded. ‘Why do you want us to hide there? Why is it better than here?’

  ‘A hundred nuns, fifteen monks and several very muscluar and sturdy lay-brothers, for a start. Brother Saul, now, he’s a good fellow. Devoted to the Abbess, too. He’d knock a man down if she told him to. A man, let’s say, intent on taking away a young relative who didn’t really want to be taken away…’

  She was nodding, holding up a hand to stop him. ‘Yes, very well. I accept, but for Ninian’s sake, not for mine. I – well, never mind. When will you come back?’

  He was backing towards the door. Her continued nearness was affecting him, undermining his self-control. Especially when she kept fixing those wide, dark eyes on him. ‘Tomorrow. As early as I can. By noon, anyway. God willing.’

  ‘Amen,’ she echoed automatically. ‘Very well.’ She followed him to the door, and he hurried to open it and get himself on the other side.

  She must have noticed. ‘Don’t worry, sir knight, I’m not coming to hurl myself into your arms. I’m going to bolt and bar the door, as soon as you’re through it.’

  With her taunting laughter ringing in his ears, he fetched Horace from the barn and, as stealthily as he could, made his way back to the Abbey.

  * * *

  Helewise had been expecting Josse for some time when, halfway through the next morning, finally he knocked on the door of her room. Brother Saul had informed her at Prime of Josse’s late-night return to the vale, and she had added thanks for that to her morning prayers.

  She hoped fervently that the completion of this dreadful business might be in sight. It was deeply worrying, knowing that Denys de Courtenay was at large, that someone of his ruthless nature was out there, hunting for a young and defenceless woman. He had killed once, after all. Helewise found she was constantly half expecting to hear that he had done so again.

  ‘Sir Josse, welcome,’ she said, as Josse came in and sat down. ‘May I offer you some wine?’

  ‘Aye, that you may.’ She poured the steaming, spicy drink from the jug she had ordered from Sister Basilia – she had been fairly certain Josse would visit her sooner or later – and watched as he warmed his hands on the mug.

  ‘Ah, that’s good.’ He put the empty mug on to the floor.

  ‘Now, tell me what has been happening,’ she said, trying not to let her impatience show. ‘Did you find Joanna and her boy?’

  ‘I did. I waited at Ninian’s camp. Eventually he came and I persuaded him to take me to his mother. They are still in the old manor house where Mag Hobson installed them. Comfortable enough, but, Abbess, I fear for them, alone out there.’

  ‘Is it very well-hidden?’

  ‘Aye, that it is. Which is a blessing because it lessens the chances of Denys finding them. But, if ever he does, then it will rapidly become a curse.’

  ‘Nobody to call on for help,’ she said, nodding. ‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ She hesitated as a thought struck her. ‘Sir Josse, are we right in assuming Denys is still searching for her? It is now – let me see – three days since he was here. Would he not have returned to check on us again were he still in pursuit?’

  ‘You forget Mag Hobson,’ Josse said.

  ‘No, no, I do not.’ How could I? she thought. That poor woman, that terrible death. ‘But you said yourself she could have been lying there for several days. Denys de Courtenay might have given up the chase and be away on the other side of the land by now.’

  ‘No, Abbess, I don’t think so. I – Joanna told me something of her past last night. And I’ve been thinking, all the way back here last night and again this morning, and I believe I’ve worked out why he’s trying to find her.’

  ‘Which is?’ she prompted.

  ‘Abbess, remember how he said she was his niece, whereas in fact they are cousins?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you said it made a difference because they could marry as second cousins, given that they were granted the necessary dispensation, but never as uncle and niece?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Well, what if he’d been pretending to be her uncle to allay suspicion?’

  ‘Of what?’ Was she being particularly dense this morning, or was Josse being unusually long-winded? She frowned, concentrating hard.

  ‘That he’s actually planning to make her marry him!’

  Helewise felt a distinct sense of anticlimax. ‘I believe, Sir Josse, that you are going to have to explain. Why should he want to do that?’

  ‘She’s both a widow and an orphan,’ he said, leaning forward eagerly. ‘Her father died some time ago, her mother more recently, she has no siblings and there are no other kin to speak of. Now she’s a widow, too, of a man who had estates in Brittany. Joanna spoke of family of his, but, even so, a widow surely is not likely to be ignored in a man’s Will? All in all, Joanna must be worth a tidy sum now.’ He sat back again, folding his arms across his broad chest. ‘What do you think?’

  What she thought was that there was a very obvious hole in his reasoning. ‘Sir Josse,’ she said gently, ‘Denys de Courtenay employs strange wooing tactics if he thinks to win his lady’s favour by brutally killing one of her few friends.’

  ‘Ah, I’ve thought of that!’ Josse said. ‘As I said, Joanna’s told me quite a lot about herself, and, without breaking any confidences, I can tell you that I believe he may think to coerce her into marriage by threatening to reveal certain things in her past.’

  ‘Things?’ Helewise echoed faintly. Her imagination was racing.

  ‘Aye. Unfortunate things, it has to be admitted, but none of them her fault, Abbess!’

  Ah, Josse, Helewise thought, but you would say that, being smitten as you are with the lady. ‘Indeed?’

  ‘No! She was young, an innocent, with nobody to chaperone her and—’ Clearly realising he’d already said too much, Josse very firmly shut his mouth.

  Tactfully she changed the subject, moving them away from the fascinating but forbidden ground of Joanna’s lurid past. ‘I would do anything I could to prevent a woman being coerced into marriage,’ she said. ‘It is an estate which, chosen of one’s own free will, can be rewarding and very happy. But to be forced into union with a man one despised…’

  ‘She’s had to suffer that once already,’ Josse agreed. ‘It would be dreadful to contemplate it happening to her again.’

  Especially dreadful for you, dear Josse, Helewise thought. ‘What do you propose?’ she asked. ‘How may I help?’

  ‘You guess that I need your help?’

  ‘I don’t think you’d be here otherwise.’ You would, she added silently, be with Joanna de Courtenay, fighting off cousins, uncles, dragons, sea monsters, hobgoblins and any other creatures that threatened her.

  Josse leaned towards her, resting his forearms on her table. ‘Abbess, may I bring the
m here? Joanna and Ninian? There are a hundred hiding places, and there are people here who would defend her, if need be, and—’

  ‘I’m not sure we can rely on my nuns,’ Helewise said gently. ‘Some of them could be useful – Sister Martha, I imagine, might wield a pitchfork to good effect – but as for the others, I think not.’

  He raised his eyes to the ceiling in despair. ‘Abbess, don’t be ridiculous. Oh. Sorry.’ He gave her a weak grin. ‘I meant that, with so many people around, Denys can hardly arrive, turn the place upside down till he finds Joanna, then fling her across his saddle and make off with her.’

  ‘Safety in numbers,’ she agreed. ‘Yes, I realise that. I am sorry, Sir Josse. I was teasing.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ he grunted.

  ‘And,’ she went on, ‘if Denys de Courtenay should return with reinforcements, which I pray he does not—’

  Josse’s head shot up in alarm. ‘Reinforcements!’

  ‘– then we can call on Brother Saul and his companions. They won’t let you down.’

  ‘Aye,’ Josse muttered. He was looking doubtful. ‘Abbess, you are worrying me. I admit I hadn’t envisaged an abduction by force, but, now that you have done so, I begin to see it is quite possible.’ His frown deepened. ‘Do we – do I – have the right to put your Abbey, and your nuns and monks, in jeopardy?’

  ‘They would not stand by and see a young woman taken against her will,’ Helewise said stoutly. ‘Nor, indeed, would I.’

  ‘Thank you, Abbess. But all the same…’

  ‘May I make a suggestion?’ she ventured, when he didn’t go on.

  ‘Aye, I’d be grateful.’

  His honest, concerned eyes met hers, and she berated herself for having thought his urge to protect Joanna was prompted purely by self-interest. He would, she now decided, be working as hard on the young woman’s behalf were she elderly and plain. It was a matter of gallantry.