The Tudor Bride (37 page)

I was too taken aback to ask what she meant, but I took the little flower-head from her and, embarrassed, changed the subject.

By coincidence, the following day Mildy’s brother, Walter, rode into the manor house courtyard on his return from an errand to London for Catherine. He brought with him a letter for me. It was not long but it was very much to the point.

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From Master Geoffrey Vintner to Madame Guillaumette Lanière,

My dearly beloved Mette,

How much rather would I deliver the content of this letter personally, but sadly my work keeps me in London. I have not forgotten however that there is a certain matter which remains unresolved between us and venture to suggest that now might be a good time for you to come to London to attend to it.

My son gives me to understand that our honoured lady is much occupied at present and unlikely to oppose a brief absence on your part, so I would beg you earnestly to consider a visit to Tun Lane. Walter will wait to accompany you here or else to bring your reply. I very much hope for the former.

Your faithful and devoted friend,

Geoffrey

Written at the House of the Vine, London, on this twelfth day of May, 1428.

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I managed to find a moment when Owen was away from the house organising a repair to the perimeter wall and approached Catherine as she was walking in the garden with Agnes. They were selecting salad leaves for the day’s dinner, a mundane task the queen mother enjoyed now that there was a shortage of servants to perform them. At first, when I explained, she seemed agreeable to my request for leave of absence.

‘You must go at once, of course, Mette, but what is it about, do you think?’

‘I cannot say, Mademoiselle. He obviously does not want to go into details when the letter might fall into the wrong hands.’

‘I hope he is not intending to involve you in any of his spying activities.’

‘I think the need for discretion is due to circumstances here at Hadham, Mademoiselle, rather than anything concerning Geoffrey’s diplomatic work.’

‘Ah yes, you may be right. Well, do not stay away too long. I miss you when you are gone.’

My eyes widened. ‘Even now, when you are – how shall I put it – so lovingly engaged?’

She shrugged and frowned. ‘Yes, Mette, even now.’ Then she said something that took me completely by surprise. ‘You are not going to London in order to marry Master Vintner, are you?’

I gave a nervous laugh. ‘That is not my intention, no. Why, would you object, Mademoiselle?’

The amount of thought she gave to this question made me uneasy. ‘What possible objection could I have?’ she responded at length. ‘He is my trusted treasurer and you are my trusted friend. I need you both, just as I need Agnes here.’ She took her friend’s hand. ‘Am I selfish to need you all around me?’

I noticed Agnes flush with pleasure and perhaps also with indignation that Catherine thought for a moment that she would leave her. My own thoughts were mixed. Undoubtedly there was an understanding between me and Geoffrey which might, if I let it, lead to a more passionate, loving relationship, but I saw my future as a straight choice, between marrying Geoffrey and remaining with Catherine. Of course there was another alternative but could I, at the ripe age of forty-two, embark on a no-strings, never-mind-the-consequences, love-affair? Was there anything left in me of the heedless girl who had romped in the hay with her stable-lad lover before Catherine was born? Or was I now too mature for unwedded bliss?

Meanwhile, Catherine’s question still remained to be answered; was she being selfish? It was a hard one. ‘When the world has heartlessly tried to discard you, it cannot be considered selfish to want to keep those close who remain loyal companions, Mademoiselle,’ I said. ‘I will not leave your side for long.’

‘Y
ou seem very preoccupied, Mette.’ Geoffrey and I were sharing a jug of wine in the hall at his London house late in the afternoon of the following day. ‘Have you something on your mind?’

The house was quiet, only the sound of preparations for the evening meal permeated from beyond the hall screen where Geoffrey’s faithful old servant Jem was tapping a new cask. On past visits I had been used to the sound of girls’ voices floating down the stairs from the rooms above, exchanging snippets of conversation or singing the latest popular ditty picked up in the market place, plus the occasional flap of cloth as they folded linen or shook bedding. Now that both Anne and Mildy were employed in Catherine’s household, the upstairs rooms were silent.

‘Actually, I was thinking you must miss the girls.’

‘Oh yes I do, very much. I may be too doting a father, but I have always enjoyed their company. However now they have an opportunity to broaden their horizons and so I must suffer a little loneliness.’ He raised his glass to me with a rueful smile. I could tell that he had visited the barber’s shop that morning because his cheeks were smooth but his linen coif and chemise looked rather rumpled and even frayed. I decided it was more than just loneliness he suffered due to the absence of women in his house.

‘Queen Catherine is lucky to have their company,’ I said, returning his salute. ‘They are bright and amusing and full of ideas for her entertainment. The other day they organised a picnic and treasure hunt on the river bank and the whole household joined in. Mildy had painted faces on ducks’ eggs and everyone had to find their own portraits. Some were good likenesses and some were caricatures. Several of them were really funny.’

‘Not the queen’s, I hope? Mildy can go too far sometimes.’

‘No, the queen’s was very pretty and she had dressed it with a jewelled headdress and veil. She is a clever girl your Mildy.’ I took another sip of wine for courage before adding, ‘I had a very interesting talk with her only recently.’

His bushy eyebrows rose gently. ‘Indeed. May one ask what about?’

I hoped I had managed to control my impulse to blush. ‘Yes. It was about what she rather sweetly called our “romance”.’

The light was dim in the hall as evening approached; the candles had not yet been lit, but I was certain that his ruddy cheeks deepened in colour. ‘Did she indeed? I told you she could go too far sometimes. What did you say to her?’

‘I said I had never heard our friendship called that.’ In the pause that followed, our eyes met. I took a deep breath. ‘But I confess I liked the sound of it.’

He set his cup down on the table beside us and leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. He was so close to me now I could see that his eyes were bright-grey irises flecked with brown, smile lines radiating from the outer corners. ‘I am glad to hear that because I have been afraid that your regard for me might have cooled. There has been little opportunity for private conversation lately.’

‘There has been little opportunity for anything private,’ I said ruefully.

‘You have spent too much of your life putting Queen Catherine first, Mette.’ He reached out and took both of my hands in his. ‘Now that she has settled on her future path, do you not think it might be time to choose your own?’

Suddenly Geoffrey was down on one knee before me, still clasping my hands in his and saying words I absurdly found quite startling. ‘My beloved Guillaumette, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

Although I had anticipated the question, when it came I still had no idea how to reply. Besides my heart was racing so fast it was impossible to form coherent thoughts. He must have taken my silence for tacit consent because he hurried on as if anxious to allay any fears I might have. ‘At first I thought you would not marry for the queen’s sake, but now we are both members of her household you do not need to leave her service. I do not expect you to live here permanently with me and I think you may be more comfortable sharing your chamber at Hadham as a married couple.’ He grinned up at me, boyishly pleased with his analysis. ‘If marriage is so important to your mistress, then I suspect it must be important to you. I do hope I am right, for I dearly want you to say yes.’

I shook my head in an effort to clear my mind and he must have thought I was going to say no, for his face crumpled into dejection and as it did so I knew immediately what I wanted to say but failed to express it plainly. ‘Oh no, I mean no, do not think that my answer is no because it is not. I am not doing this very well but I have never received a proposal of marriage before. If you are sure, I would be honoured and delighted to be your wife, Geoffrey.’

At that he leaped to his feet like a man twenty years younger, pulled me to mine and then his arms were tight round me and I was enveloped in an embrace and subjected to a kiss which together took away all the breath I had managed to recover. It did not seem to take away his however.

‘If I am sure – she says! Mette, my dear, my beloved, of course I am sure. I have long been sure. Probably ever since we survived the storm together on the
Hilda Maria
. I thought at the height of it that it would be a terrible shame that we might die and I would not have told you how I felt about you.’

I found myself laughing now. ‘But that was years ago! Why have you never done so before this?’

He gave me a rueful grin. ‘Something always seemed to get in the way. Your daughter needed you, then the king died and you could not desert the queen and then I had my own troubles with Anne and Thomas and did not want to burden you with that and then I had to work in Rouen for so long – oh all manner of things conspired to prevent it!’

He threw his arms around me again and this time we kissed like lovers, long and sweet and hot and I felt as if, instead of blood, warm honey was streaming through my body. It was a sensation I dimly remembered from kisses shared with my Jean-Michel, but I had forgotten how all-consuming it could be and how flustered a customarily sensible female could become.

When we parted I was trembling and Geoffrey was jubilant. ‘You said yes, did you not, Mette? I am not dreaming, am I? We are to be married. We must celebrate. Where is Jem with that new wine and where is that wandering son of mine? Walter! Are you in the house?’ He strode to the open door of the hall and leaned out, calling into the staircase beyond. ‘Jem! Walter!’

After delivering me to Tun Lane, Walter had taken some quick refreshment and then gone off on business of his own, but he had obviously returned because he came leaping up the stairs from Geoffrey’s legal chambers on the ground floor. When he heard the news he shyly kissed my cheek and said how very glad he was and then Jem brought a fresh jug of wine from the new barrel and some wafers and we all made a celebratory toast. I felt as if I had consumed the entire jug myself, so flushed was I with the excitement of the moment. I became elated and agitated at the same time; elated because of Geoffrey’s obvious delight and agitated because I found it bewildering to be contemplating marriage after nearly thirteen years of celibacy.

We ate our supper in a continuing mood of celebration and I confess that, as the wine flowed, my agitation ebbed and my elation increased. It was pleasant to share a meal with two men whose company I enjoyed and find myself the centre of their attention and approbation. I had changed my travelling clothes for my formal gown of deep-green broadcloth, lined and trimmed with tawny sendal, a costume I had worn for Catherine’s wedding and packed in one of Genevieve’s saddlebags, just in case. It was somewhat crumpled from the journey, but during the evening, just as the wine soothed my unaccustomed jitters, its creases diminished. For such an intimate occasion I had left off my wimple, which normally covered my head and throat, and dressed my hair over my ears in a decorative silk net, fixed by a padded circlet of the tawny satin. My face undoubtedly bore the evidence of my years, but it was a matter of foolish pride that the streaks of grey were few in my still glossy brown locks and I hoped these were disguised by the lustrous net and the soft light of the candles. I had been gratified by the expression of undisguised admiration with which Geoffrey greeted me and throughout the meal I was aquiver with the secret and rather guilty physical pleasure his evident lustful longing aroused in me. I had thought these sensations long buried.

As the wine loosened Walter’s tongue, he amused us with entertaining and sometimes scurrilous observations about the various members of the Hadham household. I was grateful that discretion prevented him including Catherine in his assessment, but agog to hear that he believed there was an attraction developing between Agnes de Blagny and Hywell Vychan.

‘Hywell has taken to hanging around the dairy and stillroom where, as you know, Madame Mette, Agnes has assumed the job of supervising the new maids and often undertakes part of the preserving and cheese-making processes herself. Hywell is a quiet fellow who likes his own company as a rule, but lately he is often to be found lingering on one of the mounting blocks whittling a new chanter for his pipes or polishing his hauberk until Agnes emerges, when he just happens to make his way across the courtyard to intercept her. At first they just nodded a greeting, but now they can spend several minutes discussing such fascinating topics as the height of the sun and the quality of the day’s cream for cheese-making.’

‘These are crucial matters, Walter,’ I protested, wagging an admonitory finger at the mocking tone in which he related these observations. ‘Perhaps the two of them have more in common than you think.’

Walter’s cheerful face registered exaggerated penitence. ‘You may be right. Yesterday I heard them comparing the French and Welsh expressions for the sound of the cuckoo. Clearly the difference of their native languages is not hampering their friendship! At least they seemed to find the process amusing, for they were making strange giggling sounds.’

I felt a stab of guilt that I had not noticed this development and made a mental note to watch out for signs when I returned to Hadham. At which point I fell to thinking about how long I could stay away from the place and whether Geoffrey and I might be married before I returned. All of which brought me to contemplating whether we would wait for the sanction of marriage or anticipate it; a call which I suspected Geoffrey would say was mine to make.