A King's Betrayal (35 page)

Forty Seven

‘You are wanted in the hall,’ Anne Redfern announced as she swept into Beth’s chamber that morning.  Dressed in a drab grey gown, her hair covered by a hood, her thin face was sour with dislike for Beth.  ‘It seems a child has been found.’

             
‘They have found Katharine?’  Beth moved towards her eagerly.  ‘Please tell me, have they found my baby?’

             
‘I know nothing more.  You should go immediately.  Sir William is waiting for you.’

             
‘Thank you.  I shall go down at once.’

             
Beth attempted to pass her but Anne stood deliberately in her way.  Her mouth was twisted in an ugly expression of anger and resentment, her stance hostile.

             
‘I do not know who you are or where you came from.  It seems that you have bewitched my cousin.  He is besotted with you, a fool of your making.  If he weds you he will be a laughing stock amongst his fellow knights.’

             
Feeling chilled by the malice in the other woman’s tone, Beth recoiled as if she had been stung.  ‘Why do you say that William is bewitched?’

             
‘No man of his wealth and position would marry a woman so far beneath him if he were in his right mind.  You have no learning or skills and are fit only for his kitchens.’

For a moment Beth was so stunned by Anne’s vicious attack that she could find no words to reply.  Time seemed frozen.  She could hear the sounds of men-at-arms training in the bailey, the clash of metal against metal, shouting and laughter, but it was as if she were caught by an invisible web and all the breath had left her body.  Anne Redfern’s hatred was tangible, so strong that Beth felt suffocated by it.

‘William loves me,’ she said at last.  He is the lord here and does not need your permission to wed me.  Please excuse me.  I have no time to quarrel with you. My lord awaits me.’

‘Witch,’ Anne hissed at her.  ‘You bound him to you by spells and evil magic.  Be careful for even William will not save you if the Church court decides that you should stand trial for witchcraft.  If I am asked I shall swear that you have bewitched him.  You should have died that day by the river.’

‘Let me pass.’  Beth lifted her head, walking past her with pride.  Yet she was trembling inside as she went down the spiralling stone stairs of the tower to the great hall below.  Anne Redfern’s malicious attack was not unexpected but it made her fear – and not just for herself.  A man could be punished for consorting with a witch.  Would Sir William still protect her if he were accused himself?  Perhaps it would be better to go away where no one knew her.

Why did people always think she was a witch?  Beth had never harmed anyone.  Why must they hate and fear her when all she wished to do was to help others?

As she entered the vast hall with its high vaulted roof, beautifully gilded and painted, its walls hung with banners and shields, she saw that Ruth and William were standing together.  They both looked anxious and grave and there was no sign of a child.  Beth’s heart began to race.  Why were they looking at her like that?

‘Beth,’ Anne cried and came towards her, hands outstretched.  ‘Forgive me.  It is sad news I bear.  You must prepare yourself for the worst.’

‘Katharine?’  Beth gave a cry of alarm.  Her chest felt tight, the blood pounding at her temples.  ‘Where is she?  Is she ill?’

‘The child we found is dead,’ William said and the floor seemed to rise towards Beth.  She clutched at Ruth’s arm, as her breathing became difficult.  ‘She had been left by the side of the road and was attacked by dogs or foxes.’

‘No…’ A scream was building inside Beth as let go of Ruth and put her hands to her face.  She shook her head, moaning, ‘Not Katharine.  She promised to care for my child but she left her to die…no, no, no…’

‘We cannot know for sure that the child is yours,’ Ruth said.  ‘William tells me your child must be nearly eighteen months and the babe found is younger – scarcely more than a few months.’

Beth gave a cry of despair.  ‘Katharine, my Katharine is dead.’  Her head was whirling, the pain too hard to bear.  ‘She was born in the late spring this year…’

Ruth’s face was becoming misty and indistinct; the blackness was closing in on Beth.  She made a moaning sound and pitched forward.

‘Help me,’ Ruth cried as she tried to catch her.

‘What did she say?’  William moved to catch Beth, scooping her into his arms and holding her close to his chest.  His manner was puzzled, anxious.  ‘How can the babe be but a few months old?  She was conceived in the early summer of 1413.  I have not lain with her since…’

‘Easily enough if the whore lay with another,’ Anne’s spiteful voice said from behind them.  She has made a fool of you cousin.  She put a spell on you but now you can see her for what she is.’

‘Enough!’ He rounded on her, Beth in his arms, his expression one of fury mixed with hurt as he accepted that her spiteful words must be the truth yet fought the knowledge.  ‘You will not speak such filthy trash of the woman I love.  Ruth, prepare her bed.  I shall take Beth to her chamber.’

‘Of course, cousin.’

Ruth scurried ahead of him, lifting her tunic above her slender ankles as she ran up the tower stair.  She entered Beth’s chamber and pulled back the silken covers on the great bed so that William could lay the girl carefully down.  He was frowning, angry, his expression like thunder.

‘You must not be angry with my mother,’ she said softly, a hint of pity in her voice.  ‘Did Beth tell you the child was yours?’

He hesitated, then shook his head.  ‘She knew I thought it and did not deny it.’

‘You saved her from an angry mob.  Mayhap she meant to tell you the truth in time.  You must have known it had the child been found alive for she could not have been yours if...’ Ruth faltered.  ‘Forgive me, cousin. I mean not to hurt you.  Beth would not deliberately lie to you.’

‘Perhaps not – or perhaps she liked the idea of living in the castle now that she has seen its comforts.’

‘Do not judge her so harshly,’ Ruth advised.  ‘Leave her to me now, sir, and return when you have considered more on this matter.  If the child is not yours and she has no husband to protect her she may have been forced.  She was alone and vulnerable – and men will oft take advantage.’

William’s mouth hardened.  ‘I know it might be so – but I thought she had come to me because of the child, because it was mine.’

‘You asked her to wed you.  Beth needed a home for herself and her child.  Is it surprising that she did not wish to disappoint you?  In her circumstances she must have been afraid of the future.’

‘You plead her case?  Your mother has no such scruple.’

‘My mother was wrong.  Please forgive her for her unkindness.  She is bitter because we lost our home.’

‘You have as much cause.  Are you not bitter?’

‘I shall be content to serve Beth, at least for the moment – if you still intend to wed her?’

‘That is a question I must ask myself.’

William turned and walked from the room.  Hearing a cry of distress, Ruth bent over the bed.   Beth’s eyelids were flickering as she reached out to stroke her forehead.

‘You are so beautiful and still a child at heart.  I think you innocent of any crime.  Men were ever betrayers.  If William sends you away I shall come with you.  We shall go to the convent of the Sisters of Mercy and find comfort there.’

Beth opened her eyes and looked up at Ruth.

‘My child,’ she whispered.  ‘Was it truly Katharine they found?’

‘I am not certain.  The child was a similar age to yours but the child they found had been dead several days for the body had decayed.  It was poorly gowned and the hair I saw was dark – did you not tell me that Katharine had pale hair and a gown of silk.’

‘Her hair was like moonlight, silvery gold, and I made her a silk gown from the gown that was mine as a child.’  Beth sat up against the pillows.  ‘She was so young and beautiful.  You do not think it was my Katharine?’

Ruth sat on the edge of the bed, her gentle face settled in an expression of sympathy.  She took Beth’s hand in her own.  ‘I believe the child was abandoned by a poor woman, who perhaps could not afford to feed it.  It would not be the first nor will it be the last.  I cannot promise you that Katharine is safe, because I do not know – but I think that child we found had been dead at least a week or more - longer than yours has  been missing.’

Beth wiped her cheeks.  ‘Did I faint?  Did William bring me here?’  Her gaze narrowed.  ‘What did I say – did he hear me?’

‘Sir William knows the child is not his.’

‘Was he very angry?’  Beth pleated the silk covers with restless fingers.  ‘Will he send me away now?’

‘Sir William is upset.  He will wish to know who fathered the babe.’  Ruth captured her hand and held it tight.  ‘Were you raped?  Did the brute force you to yield to him?’

Beth hesitated, then, ‘No,’ she said in a quiet strong voice.  ‘He did not force me.  He came to me one warm night when I bathed in a pool in the woods.  I thought myself safe, hidden from anyone who might be in the wood but he must have heard me and he came.  It was like a dream.  We played like children in the water and then he kissed me and loved me.  It was beautiful and I did not resist him.  In the morning I woke and he had gone.’

‘He seduced you and then left you as you slept.’  Ruth’s lip curled in scorn.  ‘He was thoughtless and careless, thinking only of his own pleasure.  He used you very ill, Beth.  Did he give you nothing?’

‘He left his velvet cloak to cover me lest I grew cold.’  Beth was thoughtful for a moment.  ‘It was lovely.  He taught me how beautiful loving can be between a man and a woman.’

‘He seduced you and then left you as you slept – that is a coward’s way.  You should tell Sir William that he raped you.  You can be mistress here, Beth.  William loves you.  If he believes you were raped he will forgive you.  If he thinks you went to a lover of your own choosing he may decide to make you his mistress instead of his wife.’

‘It is all I expected when I came here.  I should tell him the truth.  It would  be unfair to deceive him.’  Beth wiped a tear.  ‘If he cannot forgive me I shall go away.  I do not think I could bear to be his whore now that I might have been so much more.  Besides, I must look for Katharine.  William will not search for her now that he knows she is not his daughter.’

‘You cannot be sure that he will abandon the search.’

‘Yes, I can.’  Beth closed her eyes for a moment.  ‘He has been so kind to me since I came here, giving me fine gowns and offering me anything I want.  I thought I should be happy as his wife, but now…’  She sighed as she opened her eyes.  ‘He will hate me because I did not tell him the truth.  He will think I meant to deceive him.  I would have told him; I intended it but when he thought she was his I did not wish to hurt him.’

‘I thought it was something of the kind,’ Ruth said and smiled.  ‘I have begun to care for you as a sister, Beth.  If William sends you away I shall come with you.  I know some people who will give us shelter for a time.  I have a little money and we may set up home together.  We might both find work in a town.’

‘You must not leave your home for my sake.  You wished to wed a rich merchant.’

‘If God wills it I shall marry, but I can find peace in serving others.  There is a place I know of not far from here.  The Sisters take in homeless women and care for them until they move on.’

‘Do you mean the Sisters of Mercy?’

‘Have you visited their school?’

‘No, but I have heard of them from Mistress Soames.  It was she that left me her silk dress, which she had when she worked for a lady many years ago.’

‘The Sisters would help us,’ Ruth said.  ‘Yet we could stay here together if you tell William you were raped.’

‘I do not wish to lie.  Besides, is it not said that if a child results from rape the woman must secretly have encouraged the man?  For women can only conceive when they give themselves and feel pleasure.’

‘I too have heard this, though I do not believe it true.  We must hope that William’s love for you is stronger than his pride.’  Ruth stood up.  ‘You should rest and think.  I shall return later.’

‘Thank you for all you have done.’  Beth felt her throat tighten.  Ruth was a good friend, but she could not take her from her home.  If the time came for her to leave she would go alone.  At least she knew that the Sisters of Mercy had a school nearby and she could ask people to tell her the way.  She would also ask if anyone had seen her child. 

Beth’s heart ached because she knew that the dead baby might easily have been Katharine, yet something inside told her that her child still lived.  If William was angry and wished her to leave, she would take what she could from her cottage and sell the rest – and then she would search for the school Ruth had told her of.  Perhaps there she would find someone that would help her.

Beth felt sad because she knew she had hurt William’s pride and would do so again when she told him the truth of her child’s birth.  He would be angry and he might hate her.  She was sure that he would not continue to search for Katharine.