World Without End (55 page)

It was the third negative response in a row, Gwenda thought glumly. Perhaps this was a foolish errand.

Caris said: 'You may have to do this on your own.'

'Yes, I will,' Gwenda said decisively. It was time to stop asking for other people's help and start relying on herself - the way she had all her life. 'Ralph is here in town, isn't he?'

'Yes,' Merthin said. 'He came to tell our parents the good news about his promotion. They're the only people in the county who are celebrating.'

'But he's not staying with them.'

'He's too grand for that now. He's at the Bell.'

'What would be the best way to persuade him?'

Merthin thought for a few moments. 'Ralph feels our father's humiliation - a knight reduced to the status of a pensioner of the priory. He'll do anything that seems to enhance his social position.'

Gwenda thought about that as Ian Boatman rowed them all back to the city. How could she present her request as a way for Ralph to raise his standing? It was midday as she walked up the main street with the others. Merthin was going to Caris's house for dinner, and Caris invited Gwenda to join them, but she was impatient to see Ralph, and she went on to the Bell.

A potboy told her Ralph was upstairs in the best room. Most lodgers slept in a communal dormitory: Ralph was emphasizing his new position by taking an entire room - paid for, Gwenda thought sourly, out of the meager harvests of Wigleigh peasants.

She knocked at the door and went in.

Ralph was there with his squire, Alan Fernhill, a boy of about eighteen with big shoulders and a small head. On the table between them stood a jug of ale, a loaf, and a joint of hot beef with a wisp of steam coming from it. They were finishing their dinner and looked thoroughly contented with their lot in life, Gwenda thought. She hoped they were not too drunk: men in that state could not talk to women; all they could do was make ribald remarks and laugh helplessly at each other's wit.

Ralph peered at her: the room was not well lit. 'You're one of my serfs, aren't you?'

'No, my lord, but I'd like to be. I'm Gwenda, and my father is Joby, a landless laborer.'

'And what are you doing so far from the village? It's not market day.'

She moved a step farther into the room so that she could see his face more clearly. 'Sir, I come to plead for Wulfric, son of the late Samuel. I know that he behaved disrespectfully to you once but, since then, he has suffered the torments of Job. His parents and brother were killed when the bridge collapsed, all the family's money was lost, and now his fiancée has married someone else. I hope you might feel that God has punished him harshly for the wrong he did you, and it is time for you to show mercy.' Remembering what Merthin had advised, she added: 'The mercy characteristic of the true nobleman.'

He belched fruitily and sighed. 'What do you care whether Wulfric inherits?'

'I love him, my lord. Now that he has been rejected by Annet, I hope he may marry me - with your gracious permission, of course.'

'Come closer,' he said.

She moved into the center of the room and stood in front of him.

His eyes roamed all over her body. 'You're not a pretty girl,' he said. 'But there's something about you. Are you a virgin?'

'Lord - I...I...'

'Obviously not,' he laughed. 'Have you lain with Wulfric yet?'

'No!'

'Liar.' He grinned, enjoying himself. 'Well, now, what if I let Wulfric have his father's lands after all? Perhaps I should. What then?'

'You would be called a true nobleman by Wigleigh and all the world.'

'The world won't care. But will you be grateful to me?'

Gwenda had a horrible feeling that she knew where this was leading. 'Of course, deeply grateful.'

'And how would you show it?'

She backed toward the door. 'Any way I could without shame.'

'Would you take off your dress?'

Her heart sank. 'No, lord.'

'Ah. Not so grateful, then.'

She reached the door and touched the handle, but she did not go out. 'What...what are you asking me, lord?'

'I want to see you naked. Then I'll decide.'

'Here?'

'Yes.'

She looked at Alan. 'In front of him?'

'Yes.'

It did not seem much, to show herself to these two men - not by comparison with the prize, winning Wulfric's inheritance back.

Swiftly, she undid her belt and pulled her dress over her head. She held the dress in her hand, keeping the other hand on the doorknob, and stared defiantly at Ralph. He looked greedily at her body, then glanced over at his companion with a grin of triumph; and Gwenda saw that this was about showing his power as much as anything else.

Ralph said: 'An ugly cow, but nice udders - eh, Alan?'

Alan replied: 'I wouldn't climb over her to get at you.'

Ralph laughed.

Gwenda said: 'Now will you grant my petition?'

Ralph put his hand to his crotch and began to stroke himself. 'Lie with me,' he said. 'On that bed.'

'No.'

'Come on - you've already done it with Wulfric, you're no virgin.'

'No.'

'Think of the lands - ninety acres, all that his father had.'

She thought. If she agreed, Wulfric would have his heart's desire - and the two of them could look forward to a life of plenty. If she continued to refuse, Wulfric would be a landless laborer, like Joby, struggling all his life to make enough to feed his children, and often failing.

Still the thought revolted her. Ralph was an unpleasant man, petty and vengeful, a bully - so different from his brother. His being tall and handsome made little difference. It would be disgusting to lie with someone she disliked so much.

The fact that she had done it with Wulfric only yesterday made the prospect of sex with Ralph even more repellent. After her night of happy intimacy with Wulfric, it would be a terrible betrayal to do the same with another man.

Don't be a fool, she told herself. For the sake of five minutes of unpleasantness, will you condemn yourself to a life of hardship? She thought of her mother, and the babies that had died. She remembered the stealing she and Philemon had been forced to do. Was it not better to prostitute herself to Ralph one time, for just a few moments, than to condemn her unborn children to a life of poverty?

Ralph remained quiet while she vacillated. He was wise: any words from him would only have strengthened her revulsion. Silence served him better.

'Please,' Gwenda said at last. 'Don't make me do this.'

'Ah,' he said. 'That tells me you're willing.'

'It's a sin,' she said desperately. She did not often talk about sin, but she thought there was a chance it might move him. 'A sin for you to ask, and a sin for me to agree.'

'Sins can be forgiven.'

'What would your brother think of you?'

That gave him pause. For a moment he seemed to hesitate.

'Please,' she said. 'Just let Wulfric inherit.'

His face hardened again. 'I've made my decision. I'm not going to reverse it - unless you can persuade me. And just saying please won't work.' His eyes glistened with desire, and he was breathing a little faster, his mouth open, his lips moist behind his beard.

She dropped her dress to the floor and walked to the bed.

'Kneel on the mattress,' Ralph said. 'No, facing away from me.'

She did as he said.

'Better view from this side,' he said, and Alan laughed loudly. Gwenda wondered if Alan was going to stay to watch, but then Ralph said: 'Leave us alone.' A moment later the door slammed.

Ralph knelt on the bed behind Gwenda. She closed her eyes and prayed for forgiveness. She felt his thick fingers exploring her. She heard him spit, then he rubbed a wet hand on her. A moment later he entered her. She groaned with shame.

Ralph misinterpreted the sound and said: 'You like that, eh?'

She wondered how long this would take. He began to move rhythmically. To ease the discomfort she moved with him, and he laughed triumphantly, thinking he had excited her lust. Her greatest fear was that this would sour her entire experience of lovemaking. In future, when she lay with Wulfric, would she think of this moment?

And then, to her horror, a warm flush of pleasure began to spread through her loins. She felt her face redden in shame. Despite her profound repugnance, her body betrayed her, and moisture flooded inside her, easing the friction of his thrusts. He sensed the change and moved faster. Disgusted with herself, she ceased to match his rhythm; but he grabbed her hips, pushing and pulling alternately, and she was helpless to resist. She remembered with dismay that her body had undermined her in the same way with Alwyn in the forest. Then as now, she had wanted her body to be a wooden statue, numb and impassive; both times, it had responded against her will.

She had killed Alwyn with his own knife.

She could not do the same to Ralph, even if she had wanted to, because he was behind her. She could not see him, and she had little control over her body. She was in his hands. She was glad when she sensed that he was approaching the climax. Soon it would be over. She felt an answering pressure in her own loins. She tried to make her body limp and her mind blank: it would be too humiliating if she, too, reached a climax. She felt Ralph ejaculate inside her, and she shuddered, not with pleasure but with loathing.

He sighed with satisfaction, withdrew from her, and lay flat on the bed.

She got up and quickly pulled on her dress.

'That was better than I expected,' Ralph said, as if he were paying her some kind of polite compliment.

She went out and slammed the door behind her.

On the following Sunday, before church, Nathan Reeve came to Wulfric's house.

Gwenda and Wulfric were sitting in the kitchen. They had had breakfast and swept the room, and now Wulfric was sewing a pair of leather trousers while Gwenda wove a belt from cords. They sat close to the window, for better light - it was raining again.

Gwenda was pretending to live in the barn, so that Father Gaspard would not be offended, but she spent every night with Wulfric. He had not mentioned marriage, which disappointed her. However, they were living more or less as man and wife, in the way that people often did when they intended to marry as soon as they got around to the formalities. The nobility and the gentry were permitted no such laxity, but it was routinely overlooked among the peasantry.

As she had feared, she felt strange making love to him. The more she tried to put Ralph out of her mind, the more he intruded. Fortunately, Wulfric never noticed her mood. He made love to her with such enthusiasm and joy that it almost swamped her guilty conscience - but not quite.

And she had the consolation of knowing that he would inherit his family's lands after all. That made up for everything. She could not tell him this, of course, for then she would have needed to explain what had changed Ralph's mind. She had told him about her conversations with Philemon, Caris, and Merthin, and had given him a partial version of her encounter with Ralph, saying only that he had promised to reconsider. So Wulfric was hopeful, rather than triumphant.

'Come to the manor house, right away, both of you,' Nathan said, putting his wet head around the door.

Gwenda said: 'What does the Lord Ralph want?'

'Will you refuse to go if the proposed topic of discussion fails to interest you?' Nathan said sarcastically. 'Don't ask stupid questions, just come.'

She put a blanket over her head to walk to the big house. She still did not have a cloak. Wulfric had money, from the sale of his crops, and could have bought her a cloak, but he was saving for the heriot.

They hurried through the rain to the manor house. It was a small version of a nobleman's castle, having a great hall with a long dining table, plus a small upper story, called the solar, for the lord's private chamber. Now it bore the signs of a house occupied by men without wives: the walls were bare of tapestries, the straw on the floor gave up a pungent smell, the dogs snarled at the newcomers, and a mouse nibbled a crust on the sideboard.

Ralph sat at the head of the table. On his right was Alan, who gave Gwenda a smirk she did her best to ignore. A minute later, Nathan came in. Behind him followed fat, sly Perkin, rubbing his hands and bowing obsequiously, his hair so oily it looked like a leather skullcap. With Perkin was his new son-in-law, Billy Howard. Billy shot a triumphant glance at Wulfric: I've got your girl, he was thinking, and now I'm going to get your land. He had a shock coming.

Nathan sat on Ralph's left. The rest of them remained standing.

Gwenda had been looking forward to this moment. It was the reward for her sacrifice. She eagerly anticipated the expression on Wulfric's face when he learned that he had inherited after all. He would be overjoyed - and she would, too. Their future would be secure, or at least as secure as was possible in a world of unpredictable weather and oscillating grain prices.

Ralph said: 'Three weeks ago, I said that Wulfric, son of Samuel, could not inherit his father's land because he's too young.' He spoke slowly and ponderously. He loves this, Gwenda thought: sitting at the head of the table, pronouncing judgment, everyone hanging on his words. 'Wulfric has been working the land since then, while I have considered who should succeed old Samuel.' He paused, then said: 'But I've come to doubt my rejection of Wulfric.'

Perkin started. He had been confident of success, and this shocked him.

Billy Howard said: 'What's this? I thought Nate - ' Then Perkin nudged him, and he shut up.

Gwenda could not restrain a smile of triumph.

Ralph said: 'Despite his youth, Wulfric has shown himself capable.'

Perkin glared at Nathan. Gwenda guessed that Nathan had promised the land to Perkin. Perhaps the bribe had already been paid.

Nathan was just as shocked as Perkin. He stared openmouthed at Ralph for a moment, turned to Perkin with a baffled expression, then looked suspiciously at Gwenda.

Ralph added: 'In this he has been well supported by Gwenda, whose strength and loyalty have impressed me.'