Their orders to leave had come almost as soon as they had left Mortimer. There had been some more arguing, no doubt, but now the agreement was confirmed. The young duke was to ride to Normandy with his guards, while his mother and Mortimer would go to Hainault to conclude negotiations. They had much still to arrange. The invasion of an entire realm like England was not a matter to be undertaken lightly.
The duke had bellowed at his guards to hurry as soon as the meeting was closed, and Paul was pleased for once to obey an order to be quick. He actually assisted some of the servants as they packed goods and clothing, even carrying some of the bales of clothes and helping another man with a heavy chest, taking them all out to the waiting carts.
Now they had been on the road for a half of the afternoon, from the look of the sun, and Paul was wondering where they might stay the night. ‘Where shall we go, my lord?’
‘Tonight? There will be an inn before long. If not, we can sleep under the stars with the weather so clement.’
‘Yes, but what of the morrow? Shall we be remaining in Paris for some days?’ Paul asked hopefully. There were so many more glamorous women there in the city. It was a place that offered endless opportunities to a man like him, and he would have welcomed a chance to rest there for a few days.
‘No,’ the duke said coldly, as though reading his mind. ‘We shall turn west before Paris and ride for my ancestor’s lands. I have never seen Normandy, and this will be a good opportunity to do so.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t look so crestfallen, priest. It will be a delightful interlude, and safer than a place like Paris with all the intrigues that a city can afford.’
‘I thought you would like to rest there a while,’ Paul said lamely.
‘In a place where the leading peers of the realm have been offered silver by the barrel to have me captured, and possibly murdered?’ the duke said. ‘Hmm. I think not.’
‘But your uncle wouldn’t allow it,’ Paul said unthinkingly.
‘Do you think he supported the attack on me three days ago? Do you suggest that he would be keen to see me murdered at Montreuil?’
‘No, of course not!’ Paul said hurriedly. It was not safe to speak of a king as an assassin in his own realm where any might be listening. ‘But surely in Paris …’
‘There would be plenty of opportunity for a murderer. Many men there would no doubt welcome the chance to augment their incomes. And many more would stick a dagger in my throat for the price of a barrel of wine.’
‘So we will ride west to Normandy at once?’
‘Yes. And there, I think, we will be safe. The hunting is said to be excellent, and the wine flows.’ He cast an appraising eye towards his tutor. ‘I’ve heard that the women there are the most magnificent in all France,’ he added mildly.
‘I would not care for such news,’ Paul said unconvincingly.
‘They tend to blondes, I’ve heard. All tall. And their …’ the duke made some elaborate hand gestures about his chest. ‘Enormous.’
Paul shook his head with a slight frown. ‘Really, my lord duke, you should pay no attention to such matters. They are not becoming for a man of serious business, like you.’
But later, when all were preparing to sleep, all he could see in his mind’s eye was a tall, blond woman with a voluptuous figure and a come-hither smile.
Exeter
It was some little while later when the coroner finally grunted that he would have to leave. He was too well known in the city, and had no desire to leave her with a reputation befouled with rumours of harlotry.
Lady Isabella Fitzwilliam rose to see him to the door, aware of a great sadness that he was leaving her. ‘I do not want you to go,’ she said.
‘I would prefer to stay, but you know as well as I do that it wouldn’t be a good idea,’ Sir Peregrine said gruffly. ‘But if you will permit, I shall return tomorrow.’
‘I would like that a great deal,’ she said, and in her belly she could feel the warmth as he smiled at her, as though his smile could emulate the sun and heat her blood.
‘I shall rue the moments I am not with you,’ he said simply. ‘They are wasted.’
‘You great fool!’ she responded, and gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. ‘You should enjoy all your moments. I shall make much of every moment you are away. Each will be precious because, in passing, they bring you nearer to me again!’
He frowned slightly, as though working through her logic, and she felt a brief irritation that he didn’t understand her at once, but then she saw her error as he reached out and took her gently in his arms. And then she was unaware of the servant girl, or the room, or anything, as she felt his lips on hers. And she felt that surely she must die now. And if she did, she would be content for God to take her, because she had felt adoration once more.
He set her down, and looked into her eyes with an expression of deep intensity, saying, ‘Woman, I am sorry if that offended you.’
She could scarce speak, her heart was still fluttering so wildly. ‘It did not,’ she said breathlessly.
‘Good.’ He suddenly grinned. ‘I would hate to have to try to experiment again.’
‘Perhaps you should?’
When he had gone, she stood at the entrance to the little hall with a hand resting on the doorframe. His visit had brought an enormous surge of energy; most of all, she felt young again. She had been sure that Sir Peregrine was a stolid, affable man who could never surprise her, and in an instant he had managed just that. It was thrilling.
But she had work to do. Before she could continue with her pleasing thoughts of the fellow, she had to get out to meet the man at the cathedral.
Exeter
They found Geoffrey of St Albans at the corner of the cloister, where he was sitting watching doves pecking at the grass.
William nodded to John, and the two approached him from behind, stepping quietly so as not to disturb him.
‘They love their bread,’ Geoffrey said.
He turned suddenly and threw William a grin. ‘Did you think to surprise me, squire? You need to move more silently to do that. Remember, I was a warrior.’ He was a curious old man. With his small bright eyes, and the way he ducked his head, he reminded William of a sad-looking bird himself.
Everyone in the cathedral knew Geoffrey well. He was an amiable fellow generally, and it was thought that he had been installed here as corrodian because he had lost his mind in a battle. The king honoured him, it was said, for his loyal service. But what if his true loyalty was still to Lancaster, the man killed by the king?
‘I have heard that you were in the bishop’s palace a few days ago. Do you remember that?’ William said.
‘You mustn’t ask me about that,’ Geoffrey said, and shook his head disapprovingly. ‘No, not about that.’
‘Why?’ John asked sternly.
There was something wrong though, William could see. The man was not scared of being discovered; rather he was surprised that he should be asked. He had the look of a man who was asked whether he would consider eating a fox. It just wasn’t the sort of thing a man in his chivalric position could consider.
‘You were in the bishop’s parlour, weren’t you?’ John said. ‘You placed a piece of parchment in there. Who put you up to it? Was it allies of your old master, eh?’
There was a cunning look in Geoffrey’s eyes now. ‘You want to trick me, don’t you, but you won’t. You shouldn’t be asking such things,’ he said, and shook his head again. ‘It’s not right.’
‘What isn’t right?’ William asked softly. It was tempting to grab the old git by the throat, but that wouldn’t help, he knew.
‘There are things a man cannot say. Not when he has been sworn to secrecy.’
‘Sworn to secrecy?’ John threw up his hands. ‘Don’t give me that ballocks, old man!’