The Tavern in the Morning

Chapter Thirteen

He was awake before her.

In the pale early light, he studied her face. Asleep, she looked younger; her habitual expression of wariness put strain in her features, giving her a false maturity. But now …

How old would she be? he wondered. Her son was seven, and Joanna said she had been sixteen when he was conceived, so that made her twenty-three. At that moment, she didn’t look it. She looked about eighteen.

She was sleeping with her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. Leaning against him as she was, he could feel the soft warmth of her breasts. He was very tempted to caress them, gently to wake her, arouse her-

No. Let her sleep. Poor lass, this was probably the first night in a long time that she’d allowed herself to relax into deep, healing sleep. With him there — he hoped he wasn’t flattering himself — at last she could let her vigilance slip a little and take the proper rest she must so sorely have needed.

To take his mind and his body off thoughts of making love to her, he looked around the bedchamber. He had noticed almost nothing about it last night save for the wide wooden-framed bed, with its thick woollen hangings and its pile of covers. Now, easing himself up a little so as to be able to view the whole room, he studied the rest of it.

It must surely have been the old people’s chamber — Joanna’s mother’s great-uncle and his wife — he decided, for it had an air of long use about it. Not that it was dirty — far from it. Joanna must be maintaining Mag Hobson’s exacting standards, Josse thought, for, throughout the house, there was an air of freshness, so that the visitor received the impression that the rushes on the floor had been newly replaced, the dark corners swept clean of dusty cobwebs, the bedclothes taken outside into the sunshine, hung on a line and given a good beating.

He was dozing now, drifting in and out of light sleep, and in a half-waking, half-sleeping vision, he thought he saw Mag, as she must have been in life, a sturdy and vigorous woman, ever on the move, sharp eyes ever observant to the smallest detail. Here she was now, in Josse’s dream, coming up the narrow stair into the bedchamber with a besom in her hand, saying, ‘Joanna! Come along, my girl, no time to lie idle! Just you stir yourself, now, and get this room swept out, you don’t want your company thinking you can’t keep a clean house, do you?’

He saw her stand over the bed, and there was a sudden softening of her stern features as she looked down at Joanna lying in his arms. ‘Aye, that’s right,’ she said gently. ‘You sleep, child. Sleep, and, when you wake, let him bear a little of your burden.’

With a start, Josse opened his eyes. The dream had been so vivid that he was quite surprised to find that he and Joanna were the only occupants of the room.

* * *

She finally awoke around mid-morning. Josse had slipped out of bed, collected his clothes and tiptoed out of the chamber and down the stair into the hall below, finding his way to the kitchen to build up the fire and heat water for a sketchy wash. Dressed, he returned to the bedroom to find her awake, lying propped up on an elbow and blinking in the soft sunshine coming through the narrow window.

‘You let me sleep!’ she greeted him, a faint note of accusation in her tone.

‘Aye. You needed your rest.’

She smiled at him, a wide, happy grin. ‘I did indeed. You rode me hard, sir knight, and fair wore me out.’

He came to sit on the edge of the bed, taking her outstretched hands and turning them over to drop a kiss in each palm. She smelt arousingly of sex …

Turning his mind from thoughts of their lovemaking — which took a great deal of effort — he said, ‘I wasn’t referring to that. I meant that, for once, you had no need to sleep with one ear cocked for danger.’ No. That sounded self-congratulatory. ‘That is, there were two of us to listen for untoward sounds, and-’

She was laughing, and he found himself joining in, despite the fact that he was pretty sure she was laughing at him.

‘Ah, yes,’ she said teasingly, ‘I can just picture it. There we are, deep in the throes of our passionate embraces, and suddenly you say, “Hark! What was that, my lady? A rattle of the barn door? A warning whinny from one of the horses?”’

‘Oh, very well,’ he acknowledged. He gave her a rueful look. ‘I only meant to help you.’

‘Oh, Josse, I know that!’ She sat up and flung her arms round him, the violent gesture throwing off the bedcovers so that her upper body was naked. Nuzzling her face up to his cheek, she murmured, ‘Are you coming back to bed?’

‘Joanna, we should be thinking about-’

But she had slid her hand up his thigh to his crotch, and the teasing fingertips were already fluttering up and down his erection. Whatever they ought to have been thinking about flew right out of his mind as, ripping off his clothes, he slid into bed and gave himself up to the delight of Joanna.

* * *

Soon after noon, they were up, dressed, and downstairs in the kitchen, where Joanna was preparing food.

Josse was thinking about the Abbess Helewise’s suggestion that he take Joanna to his own house, and hide her away at New Winnowlands until whatever danger Denys de Courtenay represented to her was past. He was musing over how best to put the idea to her when she said, ‘You’ve gone quiet, Josse. What is it?’

He looked up at her. Having decided that, for someone like her, the best approach was probably the direct one, he said, ‘I have a house, Joanna. Not far from here — a short morning’s ride, perhaps, certainly no more — and I have a staff of two. My manservant, Will, and his woman, Ella. Both discreet, trustworthy people, and each most capable at their own skills. My house has been newly renovated and it is comfortable. If you would accept, I can think of no safer place for you. For one thing, you would not be alone — even when I am from home, Will and Ella are always there. For another, nobody would ever think of looking for you in my house, because they don’t know that you know me. Whereas it is more likely known that you had a connection with Mag Hobson, and, in addition, with this house. I fear that it is only a matter of time before the deduction is made that you are here. If you agree, then New Winnow-lands is at your disposal, for as long as you want or need a refuge.’

She had heard him out without interrupting. The silence continued after he had stopped speaking, and he was just beginning to think that he must have offended her when she said, ‘Josse, I thank you. You have thought this out well.’ A slight frown crossed her face, as though she were weighing up the advantages of accepting his offer. Preparing himself for an enquiry or two — she might want to know what sort of accommodation he could offer her, for instance, or whether the house was warm and draught-free, that sort of thing — but, when she finally spoke, her question was quite surprising.

‘A short morning’s ride away, you said?’

‘Aye.’ He could not immediately see the relevance.

‘And — your house — New Winnowlands — is easy to find? It’s not so deep in some rural backwater that nobody knows it is there?’

What on earth was she driving at? Unable to work it out, he answered as honestly as he could. ‘New Winnowlands is, as I said, a modest ride from here. It stands quite close to a reasonably well-used road, and we are visited by the occasional passer-by — in fact, as I recall, we had a tinker push his barrow into the courtyard not a fortnight ago. But, Joanna, what would it matter that we are not hidden away at the back of beyond, when nobody knows you are there?’

‘But somebody determined could find it if they really wanted to?’

He was puzzled by her insistence. ‘Aye, of course, but-’

She came over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders, silencing him with a kiss. When the kiss was finished, she said, ‘I accept, and with deep gratitude. Please, Josse, take me to your house.’

* * *

He helped her fasten her pack on to the back of Ninian’s pony — she did not seem to want to take much with her, but perhaps she did not possess many belongings — and, in the early afternoon, they set out.

He rode ahead, leading the pony, and she followed behind. He looked back at her once or twice as they left the secret manor — she had been very particular over leaving it neat and tidy, and over securing it thoroughly — and, each time, he saw that she was craning round in the saddle, eyes fixed to the house as if trying to impress every detail in her memory.

‘We’ll be back,’ he said when, the house now hidden from view, she kicked her mare into a trot and came alongside him. ‘When this time of troubles is over, you can return, if you wish to.’

‘I shall,’ she said quietly. ‘It — this house and the little dwelling in the woods are where I can sense Mag most strongly.’

Her recalled his dream of the morning. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘That I can understand.’

There was so much he wanted to know, so many questions that kept rising insistently into his head. Tentatively he said, ‘When you were young, did you-’

But she interrupted him. As if she hadn’t even registered the beginning of his own question, she asked one of her own. ‘Do you know what they did with Mag’s body?’

He recalled Sheriff Pelham’s words: we’d better see about taking this here into town for disposal. Was there a kind way of telling Joanna that? ‘Er — the Sheriffs men took her back to Tonbridge. She would have been buried there, I think. That was what the Sheriff appeared to have in mind.’ He wondered if, like him, she was imagining some hurried interment in an unmarked grave. ‘We can enquire, if you wish. We can-’

But she was shaking her head. ‘No, it doesn’t matter.’ Belatedly she added, ‘Thank you.’

Again, he was puzzled. So much about her puzzled him! ‘Joanna, I’m sure it could be arranged for the body to be moved.’ He had no idea how these things were done, but, in his experience, it was usually the case that almost anything was possible if you were prepared to grease a few palms. ‘If that’s what you were thinking.’

She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, as if she were seeing something a long way off. ‘No, Josse. You are kind to be making these suggestions, but, as I said, it doesn’t matter. Where Mag’s body is buried is of no concern to me.’

It sounded a strangely heartless thing to say, and he didn’t believe Joanna to be heartless. Certainly, not where Mag Hobson was concerned. ‘Then why did you ask?’ he ventured.

‘Oh-’ She seemed to have to think about it. ‘I just wanted to make sure that she had been buried.’

‘As opposed to what?’ he asked, half laughing.

But she had ridden ahead of him and didn’t appear to have heard.

* * *

New Winnowlands looked every bit as clean and well cared for as the house they had just left. Making a mental note to thank Will and Ella, Josse led the way in through the gates, across the yard and into the stables, where Will, having heard them ride in, came hurrying to help.

Josse, working on the principle that what a man doesn’t know he can’t tell anybody else, said, ‘Will, this lady is a friend of mine. She is visiting the area, and is to stay here for a while. Would you please ask Ella to prepare accommodation for her?’

Will had been staring at Joanna with undisguised curiosity. ‘That I shall,’ he said. ‘Just let me see these three horses comfortable, then I’ll speak to Ella straight away.’

Josse took Joanna up the steps and into the house, aware, as surely she must be too, of Will’s keen interest. What on earth would he say to Ella? Josse could well imagine something on the lines of, the Master’s found himself a woman, and a fair looker at that. He’s ordered a chamber prepared for her, but, judging by the way they look at one another, it’s my opinion that she’ll not be using it. You might as well save yourself the trouble, Ella.

Ah, well. There was nothing he could do about it. Showing Joanna to a seat by the fire, he risked a quick look at her. She was smiling slightly, as if the situation amused her. She didn’t seem in the least offended nor awkward.

‘Your arrival is bound to cause a bit of a stir,’ he said quietly; Ella might well be within earshot, she moved so softly about the place that you really never knew where she was. ‘It’s not often I bring a beautiful young woman to my house.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, sir knight,’ she replied. ‘I should not like to think that you make a habit of entertaining young women.’

‘Aye. No.’

She was settling herself, clearly making herself at home. ‘I like your house,’ she remarked. ‘Newly renovated, did you say?’

Thankfully they seemed to have lit upon a topic of conversation that was perfectly fit for the possibly listening ears of Ella. One that, moreover, he could elaborate on without feeling the hot blush of embarrassment which never seemed far away when he was close to Joanna. ‘Aye, there was a deal of work necessary when I first came to live here. It had been built as the dower house to the main manor, up the road a mile or so, but was in a sorry state. Nobody had lived here for years, so there was a long list of problems to address. For a start, we had to…’

He had been droning on for some time, listing all the work he had had to put in hand to make his house habitable, when he noticed that she seemed to be suppressing laughter. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘Oh, Josse, nothing’s the matter.’ She straightened her expression. ‘There is little I enjoy more than a long sermon on the repair of masonry and the replacement of interior woodwork.’

‘You did ask,’ he said, stung.

‘I did,’ she agreed. Getting up, she came across to him. ‘Do your servants live in the house?’ she asked softly.

‘Well, not exactly. They have a small cottage, a lean-to, really, on the end of the row of outbuildings. It suits them to live a short step away from me, or so I assume, since it was Will himself who requested the place, and-’

‘A simple “no” would have done,’ she whispered, placing her finger to his lips. ‘Would have done very well, in fact, a lot better than “yes”.’

He had a good idea what she was thinking. ‘You prefer that we are alone here, at night?’ he whispered back, excited by the very thought of the night. ‘With no fear of servants’ gossip to ruin your reputation?’

She smiled. ‘My reputation was ruined seven years ago.’ She slid her arms round his neck, pulling him down towards her so that she could kiss him. ‘Now, I please myself what I do.’

‘And it pleases you to be here? With me?’ His voice was husky with growing desire.

‘Oh, yes.’ She kissed him again. ‘It pleases me very much.’

‘I’ll look after you,’ he said, lips to her ear. ‘I swear to you, I’ll help you, care for you-’

‘I know,’ she interrupted. ‘I thank you for it.’ He had the strong sense that, momentarily, she had withdrawn from him, as if something he had said or done had caught her up short.

He began to wonder what it could have been. But then she was pressing herself to him again, and, with his rapidly-accelerating heartbeat sending the blood pounding through his body, he didn’t have the power to wonder any more.