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.’
Six
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.’