William was still laughing as he shut the door behind him and returned to the hall.
The food all done, Baldwin washed his hands again in the bowl of warm, scented water, and dried them.
Jeanne watched him with renewed interest. She had begun her meal feeling irritable with her maid, but once Emma had been removed, and the food began to arrive, she had lost her annoyance, and with the knight beside her trying so hard to make sure she was at ease, she had found herself succumbing to that warm, pleasurable sensation of being desired and pampered.
There were conventions, of course, and Baldwin was scrupulously polite and charming, although at certain moments she caught a gleam in his eye, as if he was maintaining the outward aspect of gentility with difficulty, and would prefer to take her outside, away from all these eager eyes, to a place where they might talk and laugh together without restraint.
It was like that first meal they had eaten, a year ago in Tavistock: on that occasion they had been placed together, and then observed closely by the Abbot as well as Simon’s wife, Jeanne recalled. The whole time she had felt Margaret’s gaze on her, as if watching for the slightest indication that Baldwin and she might be prepared to pledge their vows. It had been aggravating, and had caused the same reaction in both, that neither wanted to speak to the other. It was only later, as they were leaving the room, that Baldwin had tentatively asked her to join him in a quiet walk, away from the view of people whose sole desire was to see them engaged, and whose enthusiasm for the alliance was so overwhelming that it threatened to prevent it.
Servants and bondsmen were rising from the tables and standing talking, but she saw that their attention was focused on her and their master. There was a measuring quality in their looks, as if they were assessing what sort of a mistress she might be to them: whether she would be harsh and might order them whipped for being late with her food or logs for her fire; or whether she would be kindly, a gentle lady who would show them compassion, who would tend to their wants, who would see to it that those who were in need would get help.
They could not know that Jeanne herself had not had an easy life. Her first husband was dead, God be praised! When he died of that sudden fever which had struck him down, she had sworn that she would be careful in her selection of a new husband if she was ever to remarry, and she had vowed never to show a servant needless cruelty.
There was nothing she could do that would convince any of these people as to the quality of her temperament; she would only win them over once she was mistress here-if she ever was, she added to herself.
“Jeanne…”
She turned to face him, and was surprised to see that his expression was quite blank, as if he was keeping his own feelings hidden behind an emotionless mask. “Yes, Sir Baldwin?”
“Some people can be fearful about dogs, I know. In fact, I know some ladies hate them.”
“I cannot understand why.”
“But some hounds…like my mastiff, for example…can be rather fierce-looking. And some ladies, even those who are well-bred and noble, can feel revolted by such ugly brutes.”
“Sir Baldwin,” she said softly, trying to suppress a smile, “if you are asking whether I am scared of your dog, I am not; if you feel that I think him ugly, I do not; if you fear that I would not have such a hound in my house, all I can say is, I would feel safer with a dog such as he in my house than with ten men-at-arms, because Uther is loyal by nature, not by purchase.”
The knight gave a heartfelt smile of relief and gratitude. They had all eaten their fill, and the last of the wine and ale had been consumed. At length he stood, and all those remaining at the tables rose to their feet. Baldwin was about to leave the room when he realized that Jeanne hadn’t moved. She was watching him with a raised eyebrow, and on catching her glance, he gave an apologetic smile and held out his hand to help her up. “Would you like me to have the fire remade, Lady? I would be happy to sit with you. There is much I would like to talk to you about.”
Jeanne seemed pensive. “You remember that walk we took last year?”
“Of course! That was where we saw the monk running from the girl.”
“I was thinking,” she said caustically, “of the pleasantness of walking with you. Not of the fact that it led you to finding a murderer.”
“I know,” he chuckled. “In fact, so was I. Would you like to walk around my grounds tonight?”
“Why, Sir Baldwin, I fear I would feel the cold.”
It was with those same words that she had refused him at first a year ago. Then he had been devastated, thinking that she was refusing him any opportunity of speaking with her in private. Now he bowed, mock-seriously, and inclined his head toward the door. “But if you were to have your cloak brought down, you would be fine, wouldn’t you?”
Her face was transformed. To Baldwin it looked as wonderful as watching the sunlight flooding over the land on a clear summer’s morning. The reserved, almost cold expression she had worn through the meal became a bright, delighted smile. She jerked her head to Emma, and the maid, glowering, slammed through the door to the solar. Within a few minutes she was back, a heavy woollen cloak trimmed with fur over her arm. And a thick jacket on her back. Out of the corner of his eye, Baldwin noticed Hugh quietly leave the room.
Jeanne took the cloak and clasped it at her throat, nodding at the coat. “There’s no need for you to come as well, Emma.”
“Oh yes there is, Mistress. I cannot let you go out on your own,” said the maid with a distrustful stare at Baldwin, who stood nearby, appalled at the thought that his attempts at subtle wooing could be conducted under the baleful gaze of the maid whom he now thought of as the “Harpy from Hell.”
“I think not. You will stay here.”
“I would prefer to go with you, Lady,” Emma stated resolutely.
Baldwin was brimming with frustration. He loathed the sight of Emma, yet he couldn’t be rude to her. She wasn’t his servant, and he had no idea how much regard Jeanne had for her. Until he knew Jeanne’s thoughts, he dared not risk upsetting her by insulting her maid.
At that moment Hugh reappeared and marched up to him. “Sir Baldwin? I thought I saw someone walking out near the road, so I let Uther out. If there’s a trespasser, he will soon find them.”
“You let him out?” Baldwin repeated. “You shouldn’t have, you know he-”
“That beast? My lady, you mustn’t go out, not while that mad dog is free. You’ve seen how it attacked me when we first got here! You cannot go out.”
“Oh, I don’t fear Uther. And Baldwin will wear his sword, won’t you?”
“Eh?” Baldwin had the impression that the look that passed between Hugh and Jeanne contained more than a simple exchange of greetings. “Oh yes, of course. Well, a dagger, anyway.”
Hugh said, “Edgar told me to be careful, after the way Uther attacked that man recently. Cottey, wasn’t it?”
“You see, Mistress? That creature will eat us alive! I said it should be destroyed! It’s worse than a ravening wolf.”
“Emma, silence! I am going out, and you are staying in.” Jeanne swept around, her cloak whipping out regally, and strode to the door. Baldwin had to break into a trot to catch up with her. In the screens were several of Baldwin’s workers, and Jeanne and he had to slow down in their rush while the men all moved out of the way.
It was noticeable that none of the men seemed scared of their master. Jeanne, who had been married to a knight who had struck terror into the hearts of his peasants, was forced to take stock.
There was something awesome in a man who could instill such loyalty in his servants. Her husband had whipped and beaten his people into submission. That was the only way to make them behave, he had always asserted. Otherwise they would lapse into indolence and laziness.