The Dance of Death

Ten

He glanced up as I entered, then rose, hand outstretched. ‘Master Chapman, I presume. Please allow me to introduce myself. William Lackpenny, at your service.’

Close to, he was a little older than I had thought him — somewhere around twenty-five would have been my guess, but I don’t believe I ever did learn his correct age. He was good-looking in a foxy kind of way, although his reddish hair and lean features might well have contributed to that impression. The eyes, now regarding me so limpidly, were hazel.

Taken completely aback, a dozen thoughts rioting through my head, I realized that I must be looking far more surprised — shocked, even — than the situation warranted. Hastily sketching a smile, I asked, ‘How-how do you know my name?’

‘I’m staying here myself. I saw you and your wife and servants come in last night and asked the landlord who you were. The fact is, I’m hoping you’ll grant me a favour.’

I heard the door behind me open and close again. The next second, Eloise was standing by my side, looking enquiringly, and with considerable interest, at our new acquaintance.

‘Master Lackpenny, my dear, who’s staying here. Master Lackpenny, my. . my wife.’

I was waiting for some start of recognition on Eloise’s part, and was readying myself to distract the young man’s attention, when I recollected that she would have no cause to recognize him. She had never set eyes on him until the evening before last, on the water-stairs, and even then, had he claimed her attention, which was extremely unlikely, my antics had diverted her.

‘Oh, please! Not Master Lackpenny,’ was the instant response. ‘Friends and acquaintances never call me anything but Will.’

‘And do you always make friends this quickly, Master Will?’ Eloise asked coyly, simpering in a way that made me want to slap her.

He laughed but, I thought, backed off a little at this open invitation to dalliance. ‘Ah, well, the truth is, Mistress Chapman, as I was saying to your husband when you came in, I’m hoping you and he will grant me a favour.’

‘Of course,’ she said.

‘As long as it’s within our power,’ I amended firmly.

‘Aha! A wise man!’ Will Lackpenny smiled ingratiatingly. ‘Your husband won’t commit himself, Mistress Chapman, until he knows the nature of my request.’

‘You’re right, sir. He’s a very careful man.’ Eloise gazed at me fondly and heaved a doting little sigh. ‘No woman could ask for a better husband.’

I was going to have trouble with her, I could see that.

‘What is it you want, Master Lackpenny?’ I demanded.

He smiled again. He smiled a lot. ‘The fact is, I’m travelling to Dover and thence to France on sudden business. Foolishly — very foolishly — because I wanted to take ship before the winter weather made the Channel crossing too hazardous, I set out alone. But there are too many dangers on the road to make travelling by oneself a comfortable experience, so when the landlord told me that you and your party are also bound for Dover, I wondered if you would allow me to journey with you.’

‘We shall be delighted,’ Eloise confirmed without giving me a chance to say anything. ‘Won’t we, sweetheart?’ Again she gave me that adoring smile.

‘Delighted,’ I agreed stiffly.

But what else could I have said in the circumstances? If, as I half suspected, he already knew who I was and why I was on my way to France, it was up to me to keep him guessing as much as possible. But if, which was equally possible, he was an innocent bystander who just happened to have aroused my wrongful suspicions, then not by word or look must I hint at being other than I seemed. One thing was certain, however: I must consult with John Bradshaw as soon as I could.

‘That’s settled, then.’ He beamed at us. ‘You’ll want to be setting out as soon as you’ve eaten, I daresay. I’ll go and make certain my horse is saddled and my gear packed. I’ll see you in about half an hour in the stables.’

I can’t pretend I was a scintillating breakfast companion: I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts. Eloise felt neglected.

‘Thank the good Lord I’m not really your wife,’ she remarked waspishly across the table, but remembering to lower her voice to a whisper, ‘if you’re as morose as this every morning.’

‘I usually have better company,’ I snapped back.

She turned white with anger, and her lips thinned in a most unattractive manner. We were heading for a major quarrel and I could well imagine John Bradshaw’s reaction to such a state of affairs.

I forced myself to smile and reached for her hand. ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me. Such rudeness was unpardonable. It’s just that. . I’ve a lot on my mind.’

She returned the pressure of my fingers. ‘Are you worried about this William Lackpenny travelling with us? Don’t be. As long as we all act naturally, he’ll be no trouble. I’ve met his sort before. All he’s really interested in is himself and other people being interested in him. A coxcomb. He won’t suspect a thing.’

‘Then stop trying to flirt with him,’ I said acidly, then kicked myself mentally for creating dissension again.

But to my surprise, this seemed to please her.

‘Roger, I do believe you’re jealous.’ She smiled.

Jealous? I was just about to make a stinging retort when honesty made me pause. Could she be right? Never! Or could she? She must have seen something in my face because she chuckled mischievously and rose from the table, smoothing down her skirt. Today she was wearing the garnet-coloured gown with the simple leather girdle and gold chain in which I had first seen her dressed as a woman. I had a sudden, vivid recollection of her in her boy’s clothing, travelling with the army in the summer, straight and slim as a young sapling. I felt a sudden urge to take her in my arms and kiss her, but fortunately the memory also reminded me that she could be treacherous. If for no other reason, it was as well not to let her get too close to me. Or me to her: it cut both ways.

There was a knock at the ale-room door and John Bradshaw came in, looking none too pleased.

‘I understand we’re taking that whippersnapper with us,’ he said in a low voice. He lifted a hand. ‘All right. No need to explain how it happened. Tells me he asked you outright, so I don’t suppose there was much you could do except agree. But for the sweet Virgin’s sake, watch what you say in front of him. My guess is he’s not such a fool as he looks. Lord!’ His mood lightened. ‘You ought to see the hat he’s wearing. A pointy thing with a great blue feather. Behave yourselves and try not to laugh.’

With that, he was gone, except for a parting shot instructing us not to dawdle. The sun was up and he was anxious to be on the road.

I was surprised, when I at last set foot out of doors, to discover that the morning had suddenly grown colder and that everything was beginning to freeze. I tested a puddle with the toe of my boot and found it solid ice. Trapped in its depth was a cluster of bubbles like a shower of tiny, pale green stars. My hands burned with cold as I mounted my horse and took the reins, and I drew my cloak more tightly around me. Eloise, too, was muffled to the eyes in her grey camlet cloak, the hood pulled well forward to shield her face from the wind, a pair of gauntleted gloves covering her hands. John Bradshaw wore his good frieze cloak, hat and sensible leather boots, and I was glad to see that Philip had also acquired from somewhere similarly warm garments to protect him against the bitter chill. But it was Master Lackpenny who arrested the attention. In addition to the hat that I had come to know so well, he was enveloped in a scarlet fur-lined cloak — although, on closer inspection, I recognized the fur as merely rabbit — matching boots of scarlet leather and a pair of doe-skin gloves, a tribute to the glove-maker’s art. He bestrode a showy chestnut and looked altogether too fine for our party, in spite of my new clothes and Eloise’s efforts at refinement.

We set off at a decent pace, and for the first stage of the journey were mainly silent. All I really remember, until we stopped eventually for a dinner of cheese and apple pasties and small beer at a remote wayside inn, was the smell of the cold air and the thud of the horses’ hooves as they struck sparks from the frost-bitten earth. After we had eaten, however, and rested for half an hour, we mounted once again and continued southwards at a fair pace, although this mode of travelling necessitated frequent rests to feed and water the horses.

It was during one such pause that Eloise said roundly we must change our plans and stop at Canterbury for the night. There was no way she could continue with our original plan to cover the forty-odd miles between Rochester and Dover in a single day. Moreover, she was unwell. We all knew what that meant, but I was appalled to find myself thrust into such an intimate situation with a woman who was not my wife. For his part, John Bradshaw was silently fuming over his inability to argue the point with her, William Lackpenny’s unwanted presence limiting him to the role of servant and deferential silence.

Lackpenny, himself, agreed with Eloise.

‘I must say — ’ he beamed at me — ‘I thought you by far too optimistic to imagine you could travel from Rochester to Dover in just one day, particularly — ’ here he bowed gallantly in Eloise’s direction — ‘with a lady in the party. Don’t worry. Leave everything to me. There’s a cosy little inn in the lee of Canterbury Cathedral where I’m well known to the landlord. Besides,’ he added, ‘even if you’d reached Dover tonight, there might have been little, if any, likelihood of getting a ship first thing tomorrow morning.’

He had a point, and a good one. Furthermore, when we finally reached the coast, everything depended on the wind and the tides. There was a possibility that we could be trapped at Dover for several days.

‘Master Lackpenny’s right,’ I said, trying to speak with the authority of the leader of the party and avoiding John Bradshaw’s fulminating eye.

Again, as my servant, he could do nothing but agree, though it went against the grain with him, I could tell. However, once we had entered the town and settled into Will Lackpenny’s ‘cosy little inn’, I think even he was relieved to be out of the wind and biting cold. When I had seen Eloise installed in our bedchamber with our saddlebags, I went in search of him, finding him still in the stables, bullying poor Philip.

‘Just get on with things and keep your mouth shut,’ he was saying as I entered. He turned and saw me and made a bad-tempered grimace. ‘This journey is not turning out as I planned it,’ he went on savagely. ‘If we’re not careful, Olivier le Daim will have left Paris before we even arrive. We’ll have to spend at least one night in Calais and then at least two more on the road before we get there. This damn Lackpenny attaching himself to us has been a disaster. All right! All right! I agree you couldn’t have refused him.’

‘Besides,’ I said, leaning against the door of the chestnut’s stall and absentmindedly patting his rump, ‘Mistress Gray is unwell. You heard her say so. The onset of the flux is always the most painful part of it, at least so Adela tells me.’

‘Well, she’ll have to travel tomorrow, painful or not,’ he snapped back. ‘Did you want something? Why did you come to find me?’

‘I need to talk to you. Alone.’

He raised his eyebrows and regarded me thoughtfully. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘After supper, tell the other two you have some instructions to give me and meet me here, in the stables. We can go into one of the empty stalls. Philip, you can make yourself scarce. Go and have a drink in the ale room.’

Philip nodded without saying anything. In fact, he had said practically nothing all day yesterday or today except ‘yes’ and ‘no’ and ‘thank you’. And even those meagre words had been little more than grunts. He continued to be sunk in the black despair that had gripped him ever since Jeanne’s death. I went up to him and put my arm about his shoulder.

‘Philip-’ I was beginning, but he thrust me off.

‘Leave me alone, Roger.’

I shrugged, hurt and offended.

‘Very well! If that’s how you want things.’ I turned. ‘After supper, then, Jack. Here.’

He nodded, eyeing Philip inimically. ‘He’ll get over it,’ he said to me.

‘He’ll have to,’ I agreed coldly, still smarting from my rebuff, and without looking at my old friend again, I returned to the bedchamber.

Eloise was seated on the narrow window seat, still huddled in her cloak.

‘I’ll sleep on the floor tonight,’ I said abruptly. ‘Then you can have the bed to yourself.’

‘What?’ She stared at me for a moment uncomprehendingly. Then she laughed. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said. ‘There’s no need. Trust a man to jump to the wrong conclusion.’

‘It was what you implied,’ I answered indignantly.

She hesitated before admitting, ‘Well, perhaps. But you can be easy. I shall not be wearing the red rose for another three weeks.’

‘Then why. .?’

‘As a matter of fact,’ she began, looking uncomfortable, ‘while we were eating our pasties this morning, Master Lackpenny asked me if there was any way of changing your mind about pressing on to Dover today. He not only thought it too tiring but also considered it foolish as we should be travelling the last miles after sundown, in the dark and the cold. Besides which. .’ She faltered to a stop.

‘Besides which?’

‘He was hoping to meet some friends here. Friends who are, like him — like us — on the way to France. I promised him I would do what I could. So. . I lied a little. It makes sense to stop for the night,’ she added defensively, watching my face. ‘We’re all tired and hungry, and although we’re travelling south, the weather is getting very much colder.’

‘You. . you took it upon yourself to oblige Master Lackpenny?’ I gasped. ‘For God’s sake, woman, are you out of your senses? You know how secret our mission is and that we may be short of time.’

‘As to the secrecy,’ she retorted with spirit, ‘it seems to me it would have looked far more suspicious for us to have insisted on hurrying on to Dover tonight in spite of fatigue and the obviously worsening weather. Concerning the time, who’s to say positively that Cousin Olivier will turn up in Paris at all? The whole expedition may be a fool’s errand.’

She had a point — two points — I was bound to agree, and without divulging what I already knew about William Lackpenny, any argument I could offer would crumble before the force of her logic. In any case, we were here now, in this pleasant inn, in the warm and the dry, and there was nothing I could do to change the situation. When I had unburdened myself to John Bradshaw tonight, I must discuss with him the advisability of also taking Eloise into my confidence.

And who were these people my smart young gent was meeting in Canterbury? They must surely be local, I reasoned, or he would have journeyed with them from the start, instead of by himself. Or, then again, had his solitary ride from London been just part of a well-laid plan? Had he been waiting there, at Rochester, ready to insinuate himself into our company with the plea of being on his own? My head was bursting with unanswered questions, but at least Eloise had relieved me of one worry and the prospect of sleeping on the floor for the next few nights.

It was a brief respite, however. When, after washing and changing our travel-stained clothes, Eloise and I — one of us a treat in blue and yellow, she in green — descended to the parlour for supper, we found Will Lackpenny already there, talking to a tall, thin, bearded man with a slight stoop and his much younger — his very much younger — very attractive, round-faced, blue-eyed wife. I felt Eloise’s grip tighten on my arm. You could, as the saying goes, have cut her animosity towards this seductive young creature with a knife.

I don’t know if Will Lackpenny noticed it or not: he certainly gave no sign of being aware of any tension.

‘Allow me,’ he said sunnily, ‘to introduce my good friends Master Robert Armiger and his wife, Jane. They have been here since midday.’

As I extended my hand and uttered the usual platitudes of greeting, it struck me that Master Armiger was probably a good thirty years older than his spouse. His hair, brown, threaded with grey, like his beard, was thinning at the temples, and the stoop became more pronounced when he stood up. But there was an undoubted air of affluence about him, not to mention arrogance, and the way he spoke to, and about, the pretty little thing at his elbow suggested that he knew he had married beneath him. Jane Armiger, for her part, seemed in awe of her husband, as well she might be — admiring but resentful at one and the same time.

‘You’ve come far, Master Armiger?’ I asked, as the five of us took our places around the long table and waited for the landlord to bring in our meal.

‘London, like yourselves. Or so I’m told by Will here.’

His answer took me by surprise, and I turned an enquiring look on our travelling companion. He understood it perfectly.

‘Master and Mistress Armiger left London a day ahead of me,’ he explained eagerly. ‘I. . er. . It was impossible for me to leave on Wednesday. There was business I had to see to that evening.’

And little do you know that I know what it was, I thought to myself. You had to attend Edward Woodville to Baynard’s Castle. I merely inclined my head.

‘You have business in France, Master Armiger?’ Eloise enquired, as bowls of leek soup were brought to the table by the landlord’s wife. She was followed by her husband, bearing a lordly dish on which sat one of the fattest capons I have ever seen. This he placed reverently on the sideboard and began carving it into succulent slices. The smell of the gravy alone made my mouth water.

Robert Armiger puffed out his thin chest and shook his head. The smile he gave Eloise was appreciative but condescending. I could amost hear her gritting her teeth. I chuckled silently. ‘I have no need to work, Mistress Chapman.’ It still gave me a shock to hear her called by that name. ‘I am a man of substance. No, we go to France to visit my wife’s French relatives.’

Eloise turned impulsively towards Jane Armiger, her manner, until now notably frosty, immediately thawing. ‘My mother was French!’ she exclaimed. ‘Was yours?’

The other woman shook her head. ‘No, my grandmother, my father’s mother. She was one of Duchess Cicely’s sewing-women in Rouen, and by the time the Duke and Duchess of York returned to England, she had married my grandfather and so came with him.’

‘Not a seamstress, you silly little goose,’ her husband reproved her. His words were indulgent, but there was more than a hint of annoyance in his tone. ‘A tiring-woman. Maybe even a lady-in-waiting. According to your dear mama, your grandmother tended to be vague about such things. Like you.’

Oh, yes, Robert Armiger certainly had his fair share of pride, but I suppose with a name like that, perhaps he had a right to be. One of his ancestors must have been the carrier of arms for a knight and may eventually have been entitled to bear his own. It was more than any of the rest of us could boast. Meantime, my interest in Mistress Armiger had increased fourfold. Was there any possibility, I wondered, of her grandmother ever having spoken to her about the York household in Rouen? Had any scandal concerning the duchess been mentioned? I must try to get her on her own and find out.

As we started on the capon, Robert Armiger asked the inevitable question: ‘And what is your business in France, Master Chapman?’

Now for it. ‘I’m a haberdasher,’ I answered blandly, and hoped it sounded convincing. ‘I’m hoping to sell some wares as well as buy new stock while I’m in Paris. My wife also hopes to see at least one of her French relations.’ Which was true enough.

‘A haberdasher.’ There was something in the way Master Armiger repeated the word that told me he thought little of my occupation. Not that it worried me. The less I saw of him, the better. His airs and graces could give one the bellyache if one was exposed to them too long.

But it suddenly seemed that this could well be the case.

‘I’ve asked Master Armiger and his fair wife to honour us by joining our party for the rest of the trip to France,’ Will Lackpenny announced, delicately wiping gravy from his chin with the cuff of one sleeve. ‘In any case, they and I were going to travel together once we had met up here, but I can’t just abandon you and Mistress Chapman. Therefore the solution is for us all to ride together.’ He turned to Robert Armiger. ‘If that would be your wish, sir.’ (Unctuous little bastard!)

‘Oh, by all means!’ Armiger waved his spoon nonchalantly in the air. ‘As you say, Lackpenny, you can’t just abandon these people.’

Eloise choked over a sliver of capon and hastily swallowed some wine. I didn’t trust myself to speak. There was no need, however, for either of us to say anything. Will Lackpenny was prattling happily on, dispensing information regarding his friends.

‘Master and Mistress Armiger have been staying this past week in Baynard’s Castle as the guests of Mistress Armiger’s brother.’

My head came up at that, and I pressed Eloise’s foot warningly under the table with one of mine. Say nothing: we haven’t been there, my eyes signalled to her. But I needn’t have bothered. She was no fool: she had beauty and brains in equal measure.

‘Baynard’s Castle,’ she breathed reverently. ‘Did you by any chance see my lord of Gloucester? Or his mother?’

Robert Armiger gestured again with his spoon. ‘My brother-in-law is a member of the Duchess of York’s household,’ he said grandly, and left us to draw our own conclusions.

Eloise and I both tried to look impressed and, judging by the gratified expression on our new companion’s face, succeeded.

The capon had, by this time, been supplanted by an apple tart, flavoured with cloves and cinnamon, and thick cream filled an earthenwere pitcher. Eloise sighed, obviously thinking of her figure, but couldn’t resist a second helping. Indeed, none of us could, and we finally rose from the table a good deal heavier than when we sat down. I concealed a grin as I remembered the fat purse Timothy had given me, with strict instructions not to spend a groat more than I had to. ‘This amount is just in case of emergencies, Roger! I want most of it back, if possible. My budget is limited.’ It looked as if he were going to be disappointed.

‘If you will all excuse me,’ I said, ‘I must speak with John Bradshaw about the arrangements for tomorrow. I said I’d meet him in the stables after supper.’

I noticed Eloise glance sharply at me, but no one else, of course, saw anything unusual in this decision.

‘Don’t be long, then,’ she admonished me in a very wifely spirit. ‘When the table’s cleared, we might while away the evening with a game or two of three men’s morris. I see a board and counters up there on the shelf.’

William Lackpenny endorsed this proposal with great enthusiasm, in no way dampened by Master Armiger saying austerely that he would prefer to sit by the fire and read a book.

‘A good idea, sir. We shan’t disturb you too much, I hope, with our nonsense.’

‘Meantime,’ said Eloise, ‘I propose taking a short walk outside, just to get a breath of air. Would you care to join me, Mistress Armiger?’

‘Oh, yes, indeed. If. . That is if. .’ She looked timidly at her husband.

‘Oh, go! Go!’ he answered irritably. ‘But don’t start snivelling tomorrow that you have a rheum.’

‘No, I won’t, I promise. I shall wrap up warmly.’ She smiled at Eloise. ‘I’ll just run upstairs and get my cloak.’

‘And I must have one, too.’ Eloise turned to me with a winning smile. ‘Sweetheart, will you go up to our bedchamber and fetch mine for me? The grey one that I’ve been wearing for the past two days.’

What could I say without appearing a curmudgeon? I noticed that Robert Armiger didn’t offer to get his wife’s cloak. But then, she didn’t ask him to.

I followed Jane Armiger upstairs and I followed her down again, a neat little figure in a brown cloak.

A familiar figure in a brown cloak.

I realized with a shock that I was looking at the back of the same young woman who had waited for William Lackpenny on the water-steps of Baynard’s Castle just a few days ago.