12 - Nine Men Dancing (9 page)

Jacquetta Rawbone heaved herself out of the chair, seized her stick, which had been resting against one of its arms, and limped towards me.

‘You’re late,’ she snapped. ‘I was expecting you half an hour ago at least. I suppose those Lilywhite women detained you with their chatter.’

‘No,’ I said, unstrapping my pack and beginning to spread the contents over the table. ‘In fact, I find the younger Mistress Lilywhite rather quiet.’

Jacquetta snorted, but didn’t contradict me. ‘Not so her mother-in-law, though, I’ll be bound. As nosy as they’re made, that creature. A trouble-maker!’ She started to examine my store of buttons, picking them up and putting them down again with her elegant, bony fingers.

‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ I answered. ‘I haven’t known her long enough to form an opinion.’

My companion shot me a shrewd look from her deep-set eyes.

‘Do you seriously mean to tell me that you’ve spent a whole evening and morning in Theresa’s company and not heard all about the unhappy connection between our two families? Don’t bother denying it. I’m not that gullible, chapman.’

‘I wasn’t going to deny it,’ I retorted, directing her attention to a set of very pretty ivory buttons that I had bought from a ship moored at the Gloucester wharves, whose captain and crew had just returned from a long voyage to the east. ‘And a very interesting story I found it. To be honest, I was going to mention it if you hadn’t done so first. I’d be interested to know your version of events.’

Jacquetta pushed the buttons to one side, signifying that she would buy them, and turned to the pile of laces, testing their strength by jerking them hard between her hands and carefully inspecting their metal tags.

‘Those boys, the twins,’ she grumbled, ‘they’re always breaking their laces, with the result that their breeches are either falling down round their ankles or their shirts are riding halfway up their backs. And their mother does nothing about it.’ The old lady spat into the rushes that covered the stone-flagged floor. ‘Well, if Petronelle doesn’t mind them going about the countryside looking like a couple of scarecrows, I do! I’ll take all the laces you’ve got left. And two dozen pins. That’s all then. What do I owe you?’ And she loosened the strings of a velvet purse attached to her girdle.

When we had completed our transaction, she watched me stow away the rest of my unsold goods in my pack, then said abruptly, ‘Stay awhile if you wish.’ She motioned me towards the fire and waved a hand at the benches ranged against the wall on each side of the fireplace. ‘I’m lonely, young man. My sight isn’t as good as it was and I can’t read as well as I used to. My brother and nephew, Ned, have gone down to the village to get some flour from the mill, Petronelle’s upstairs somewhere and I don’t ask what my younger nephew and the twins get up to all day. That’s their business, and I’m content to leave it that way.’

I sat down on the end of one of the benches nearest the fire, while Jacquetta again settled herself in the armchair. I was amazed at how easy it had been to get my hostess to talk to me: I hadn’t counted on the midwinter boredom of people, especially women, in remote villages who, until I came along, perhaps hadn’t seen a stranger since the previous autumn. I looked expectantly at Jacquetta.

She laughed and wagged a witch-like finger. ‘Oh, you’re getting nothing from me, my lad, until I hear something of what’s been going on in the world. Is it true the Queen’s been brought to bed of another child?’

‘So I’ve heard. At the beginning of this month. Another daughter. But don’t ask me what they’re going to call her. We have an Elizabeth, a Mary, a Cicely and an Anne already. They’ll soon be running out of names.’

My companion laughed self-consciously. ‘I was baptized Joan,’ she said, ‘but it was too ordinary a name for me. When I was nineteen, I rechristened myself after the present Queen’s mother. She that was Jacquetta of Luxembourg and became Duchess of Bedford when she married one of the fifth Henry’s brothers. Later on, after Bedford’s death, she married his squire, Richard Woodville. What a scandal that caused, but she didn’t care. That must have been a real love match, judging by the number of children she bore him.’

We chatted for a while longer about this and that; of Clarence’s execution, a year ago now, and of the strange rumours that had surrounded it; of the odd fact that the Bishop of Bath and Wells, Robert Stillington, had been imprisoned about the same time, but later pardoned; of the rift it had caused between the King and his one remaining brother, Richard of Gloucester; of the Duke’s retirement to his Yorkshire estates with his wife and son; and of his reported hatred for the Queen and all her kindred, holding them responsible, as he did, for the condemnation and death of George of Clarence.

‘Well, there’s one good thing,’ Jacquetta concluded, leaning back in her chair and extending her feet to the fire, ‘the King and Queen have those two dear boys. The succession is assured for the House of York. That’s something to be thankful for.’ (How ironic that sounds now, looking back on events from my old age and knowing what actually happened.) ‘So, chapman, what do you want to know from me? And why?’

I shrugged. ‘I’m just naturally nosy,’ I said, unwilling to go into details of my past as I had done with the Lilywhites. ‘The disappearance of this girl, Eris, sounds like an intriguing mystery to me. What do
you
think happened to her?’

‘She ran away!’ Jacquetta exclaimed scornfully. ‘She suddenly realized what she’d done; that every man’s hand was going to be against her. And every woman’s, too. Especially the women’s. She’d made too many enemies with her devious, underhand dealings. She got frightened and went.’

‘On a stormy night of rain and wind?’ I cavilled. ‘And without going home first to tell her mother what she planned to do and at least to find a cloak? Forgive me, Mistress Rawbone, but it makes no sense.’

‘It makes no sense to betroth yourself to one man and secretly plot to marry his father,’ Jacquetta spat. ‘I think it suddenly came home to her what havoc she was causing, not just for us, here at Dragonswick, but for Rosamund Bush and her family as well. Perhaps – and here I give her the benefit of the doubt – a shred of decency stirred in Eris Lilywhite and she decided to leave before she did more harm. Besides, she had a cloak, a good thick one. She was wearing it when she arrived here earlier in the day.’

I leaned foward. ‘Dame Jacquetta,’ I said gently, ‘you don’t truly believe, do you, that Eris left Brockhurst of her own accord? People like her don’t have a conscience.’

The old woman eyed me sharply. ‘What are you suggesting?’ she demanded. ‘That someone killed her?’

‘It seems more probable, you must agree.’

I could see by the expression on her face that she did agree, but was reluctant to admit it.

‘That family,’ she snorted, ‘the Haycombes, they’ve always been trouble. Maud Lilywhite,’ she explained, noting my puzzled frown, ‘was a Haycombe before she married that young man from Gloucester. Her father, Ralph Haycombe – she inherited that smallholding from him – was a wild lad in his youth. No girl was safe from his attentions, as I know only too well. Like father, like daughter,’ she added spitefully. ‘And like granddaughter, if it comes to that.’

The passage door opened and the woman I had seen coming up from the cellar entered the hall just in time to overhear Jacquetta’s last remarks. She laughed nastily.

‘I seem to have heard,’ she taunted, ‘that
you
were rather sweet on Ralph Haycombe, my dear. If my mother was to be believed, at one time you were even hoping to marry him. Unfortunately for you, he preferred her, but she was already spoken for by my father.’

Jacquetta turned her head and raked the newcomer with her deep-set eyes, but otherwise seemed unperturbed by the remark.

‘Ah! Elvina! I didn’t notice you there. But then, you do creep about so, listening at keyholes.’

The housekeeper grinned, acknowledging a hit, and the features of both women relaxed. I guessed that theirs was an old, longstanding rivalry, no doubt damaging enough in its heyday, but now a form of ritual gone through by two people who, although not exactly bosom friends, were still allies against intruders who threatened their peace.

‘Talking about Eris Lilywhite, were you?’ Elvina Merryman asked and gave a chuckle. ‘Soon found a way to get under your skin, didn’t she, my dear?’ She looked at me. ‘Discovered that Jacquetta’s baptismal name is really Joan and ever after called her by it. It was Dame Joan this and Dame Joan that until I thought poor Jacquetta was going to have an apoplexy. Made the Master laugh, though.’

‘That’s true,’ the older woman agreed without rancour. ‘Made Nathaniel laugh almost as much as the way she imitated you behind your back; your walk, the way you speak. He used to call her a baggage, and encouraged her to disobey your orders.’ Jacquetta frowned suddenly. ‘We were both slow there, Elvina. We should have foreseen what was coming.’

‘I never imagined your brother could be such a stupid old fool,’ was the vicious response. ‘Nor did you. Don’t blame yourself or me, my dear. The girl was a bigger slut than either of us thought her.’ The housekeeper took a deep breath. ‘Well, it’s all water under the bridge now. I’ll leave you to your gossip with the pedlar here.’ She winked. ‘You always did have an eye for a handsome man. I just came to tell you that I’ve been down to the cellar and brought up the wine Nathaniel wants for supper. But I’m not doing it in future. Forty-five is too old to go prancing up and down those steps, I can tell you.’

‘Oh, stop complaining, woman!’ Jacquetta chided her. ‘I can give you eighteen years and my left leg’s practically useless, but you don’t hear me whining all the time, now do you?’

Elvina Merryman snorted derisively. ‘Don’t come the old soldier with me, Jacquetta. We’ve known one another too long for that. Practically useless, indeed! I’ve seen you hopping along fast enough when you thought no one was looking. That stick and limp are just to make yourself interesting. There isn’t much goes on in this house that you don’t know about, and you don’t get your information by sitting around all day.’

For a moment it seemed as if my hostess might set about the housekeeper with her cane. She half-raised herself from her chair, gripping its handle in a determined hold, but then fell back again, a wry smile twisting her thin lips.

‘Oh, mind your own business, Elvina, and leave me to mine.’

The armed truce had been re-established between them and they again saluted one another with a nod and a grin. When the passage door had closed behind the housekeeper, Jacquetta settled herself in her chair and asked, ‘Right! Where do you want me to begin?’

‘I’m hoping,’ I said, ‘that you’re going to tell me what happened on the night that Eris Lilywhite disappeared.’

She laughed. ‘Oh, you are, are you? Has Maud Lilywhite put you up to asking these questions?’

‘No.’ True enough: it was Theresa. ‘I’ve told you, I’m naturally curious. I can’t keep my nose out of other people’s affairs. If my mother were still alive, she’d tell you I was born like it.’

‘Well, if it’s simply nosiness, I’ve no objection to telling you what you want to know,’ Jacquetta conceded. ‘Elvina’s right. If I have a weakness, it’s for good-looking young men. And we don’t get many of those wandering into this part of the world, especially in winter. So! Where shall I start?’

‘It was your brother’s birthday, I believe. At least, according to the elder Mistress Lilywhite.’

My companion nodded. ‘The first of September. Nathaniel was fifty-nine. Everyone had been summoned for the feast. Most of Lower Brockhurst was expected to attend. But then, a few days before, Nat developed a nasty rheum that descended to his chest. So the general feasting was cancelled. Eris Lilywhite and Ruth Hodges from the kitchen were sent down to the village to tell everyone not to come. But the family were still expected to be present, that went without saying. My brother’s nothing if not patriarchal. He likes to keep us all under his thumb, especially his sons. The farm and its land are not entailed, you see … Ah! I can see by your face that that’s shocked you.’

It had, indeed. Such a circumstance had not occurred to me. It put an entirely new complexion on Nathaniel’s proposed marriage to Eris Lilywhite. A child of theirs could have inherited outright under the terms of any new will that Nathaniel decided to make. I became more certain than ever that Eris had been murdered.

Jacquetta went on, ‘Tom’s always been a bit of a rebel. Edward – Ned – my elder nephew, is fifteen years older than his brother and has always been Nathaniel’s right-hand man, ever since he was old enough to help around the farm. He married to please his father. Petronelle’s a local girl who brought a decent dowry with her. A good, hard-working lass – well, woman now: she’s thirty-eight and more – who’s presented the old man with two strapping grandsons. She wouldn’t have been Ned’s choice I’m sure, left to himself, but Nathaniel insisted and, as ever, my nephew did as he was bidden. So Tom, you see, has always presumed that Ned will inherit Dragonswick and has never seen the need to toe the line in quite the same way that his brother does.

‘Mind you, that isn’t to say that Tom doesn’t respect his father nor want to please him. He knew that Nathaniel would be delighted when he got himself betrothed to Rosamund Bush. William Bush is known to be plump in the pocket and Rosamund’s his only child. We were all delighted, if it comes to that. Rosamund’s a very pretty, pleasant and friendly girl. She’d have been an asset to this family in more ways than one … I’m assuming that much of this story is already familiar to you, chapman. It should be if you’ve been in Lower Brockhurst for nearly twenty-four hours.’

I laughed. ‘All villages are the same, Mistress; hotbeds of gossip. But you’re right. I didn’t arrive until late yesterday afternoon, and it seems as if I’m already acquainted with everyone’s business.’

Jacquetta leaned forward and gripped my left knee, then let her long, bony fingers splay into what was a surprisingly sensuous caress. Perhaps she felt the sudden tension of my body, because after a moment she gave a dry chuckle and withdrew her hand. ‘Where was I?’ she asked.