‘Sweet Mother of God,’ Evelyn muttered again.
‘We shall be safe in Pengraic Castle,’ I said, hoping it might be enough to comfort Evelyn.
‘Maybe. But I worry for my daughter.’
‘I am sure she shall be well, Evelyn. The plague is in the south-eastern counties, far, far away from de Tosny’s lands north of Glowecestre.’
Evelyn nodded, but her face was tight, and I knew I had not eased her worry at all.
I spent that day with Lady Adelie and Mistress Yvette in the countess’ chamber. The earl was nowhere to be seen. The day was uneventful save that shortly before our noon meal Ranulph Saint-Valery attended upon my lady.
Me, rather.
It was a somewhat awkward meeting. Saint-Valery had come to press his marriage suit and to discover how the land lay so far as I was concerned. I supposed he had not worried over this, as few might have foreseen me refusing such an outstanding offer.
I was wrong. Saint-Valery was actually somewhat nervous.
He entered and bowed to the countess, asking after her health and that of the child she carried.
They exchanged pleasantries, then Saint-Valery greeted Mistress Yvette, then turned to me.
‘Mistress Maeb, I beg your forgiveness for this intrusion. I … ah … my lord earl tells me that he has informed you of my, um, offer.’
From the corner of my eye I saw Lady Adelie look at me somewhat sharply.
I inclined my head. ‘You do me much honour, my lord. Will you sit?’
I moved a little along the bench on which I sat, to give him room, and he perched somewhat stiffly at the other end of the seat.
There was a small silence.
Saint-Valery gave a nervous smile. ‘Mistress Maeb. I doubt you could be more surprised over the suddenness of my offer than I was myself. You made a great impression on me that night at Rosseley. I have not been able to put you from my mind since.’
‘My lord, it was but a night — an hour or two, perhaps. Yes, it seems strange to me that on such short acquaintance, and with my complete lack of dowry, that you would make such a generous offer.’
‘You seem suspicious, mistress.’
‘I am,’ I said. Lady Adelie was back to glancing sharply at me. ‘I cannot think why you have made the offer, my lord. I have little to recommend me.’
Saint-Valery’s eyes widened slightly. ‘You have a great deal to recommend you, Maeb. May I speak plainly, for I have little time before Iride out. The offer is genuine, Maeb. You may look for the courtly subterfuge, but there is none.’
My face must clearly have registered my disbelief.
‘There is no other voice behind mine,’ Saint-Valery said. ‘No shadow overlaying mine. Discard whatever rumour you may have heard.’
Both his eyes and voice were steady. I no longer knew what to think. I was still caught in the vision I’d had the day previously of the three men illumed in the shaft of sunlight, and I could not bring myself to believe Saint-Valery would play any significant role in my life. The knight, the earl and the king, yes, but not the poet.
‘I must leave court this afternoon to travel to the queen at Elesberie,’ he said. ‘You leave tomorrow for the Welsh Marches. All of our lives are uncertain now. Perhaps this winter, when all is settled and the plague passed, I may come and press my suit to you, Mistress Maeb. You shall need a good reason to say nay to me then, if you still wish to hesitate. I wish you well, Maeb, in the trials ahead.’
He rose, and bowed toward the countess. ‘My lady, I beg your leave.’
She half raised a hand. ‘Before you go, Saint-Valery. What news is there? I know that overnight rumours have throbbed about this palace, but as yet I’ve had no hard report.’
‘The news is bad, my lady. Many die, from Dovre to Meddastone, and moving ever further west. This plague is so vicious that fields are left untended and the sick are left to die alone. Towns burn. I know you have heard of how terribly the plague kills.’
Lady Adelie gave a sharp nod.
‘People flee,’ Saint-Valery said, ‘seeking refuge elsewhere. Edmond fears that they will spread the sickness further. He has commanded that soldiers man the roads that lead into the south-east and turn all back who seek to flee. Cantuaberie is a catastrophe. Much of it has burned. There is unrest and brigandry where the plague strikes hardest. I … There are no good tidings, madam, I am sorry. Move west as fast as you can and as soon as you can. I pray God and his saints protect you.’
We three women simply sat and stared at Saint-Valery.
He looked us each in the eye, then he bowed and left us.
I wondered if I would ever see him again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We left very early the next morning. I was glad, for the king’s palace and military encampment at Oxeneford had become an unsettling place. I wanted nothing more than to journey westward, all the way into the Welsh Marches, where surely the plague could not follow and life would not be so complicated. Between what I had heard in the solar, the news Saint-Valery had given us (as well as his marriage offer), the imp I had seen, and the earl’s warning about the dark flood, I simply wanted to get away. I was growing ever more frightened, and I was not afraid to admit it.
I was not alone in my fright. I slept little on the night before we left, and I know Evelyn did not either. We lay side by side, wide awake, sometimes exchanging a word or two, but mostly lost in our thoughts as we contemplated the terror that had gripped the south-east of the country. When we rose, far earlier than we needed, it was to find that the countess and Mistress Yvette were also awake, dressed and pacing to and fro waiting for the horses to be saddled and harnessed and our escort to be ready.
Evelyn, the nurse and I had the children down in the courtyard well before dawn. Early it might be, but the courtyard was a bustle of activity. Torches burned feverishly in their wall brackets, grooms and servants hurried this way and that. Horses, sensing everyone’s underlying unrest, were nervous and difficult to handle. We kept the children well out of the way, and were glad when the groom who drove the cart the Lady Adelie and they were to ride in brought the cart to us and we could pack our belongings and the children inside.
‘Mistresses. Good morn.’
It was Stephen. He looked drawn and tired, and sterner than I had ever seen him. He wore a dark mantle about his shoulders against the chill, caught with a jewelled pin, but I was dismayed to see the glint of maille underneath and his coif folded down over the collar of the mantle. He was wearing his hauberk, and a sword and dagger besides. Nothing indicated the seriousness of our situation more than that he was armoured.
‘Are you ready to leave?’ he said. ‘Evelyn, are you riding or journeying in the cart?’
‘Riding, my lord,’ she said. ‘My back is well enough, and it will do me good to ride.’
He nodded, then looked at me, the merest hint of a smile on his face. ‘Dulcette is saddled waiting for you, Maeb. I think she has missed you, for she is stamping her feet in impatience to be off.’
I could see something of the man he would become in his face this morning, and it calmed me. ‘And I am anxious to see her, my lord, and set her head to the road.’
He looked over my shoulder. ‘Ah, my lady mother and lord father.’ He walked over to them, helping his mother into the cart, then engaging in a conversation with his father.
A groom came over, leading Dulcette along with Evelyn’s horse and he aided