Margrete served the wine. The rich savor of mixed spices wafting from it was warming in itself as Lady Eleanor laid a kind hand on Joice’s shoulder and urged, “Drink now. While it’s warm. You’ll be the better for it.”
Drawing a deep, shaken breath, Joice raised her head. The worst of the crying had passed and she wiped her eyes with the edge of one sleeve, took the goblet Margrete held out to her with an unsteady smile, and said, “Thank you.”
She drank a little while Margrete brought Lady Eleanor and Frevisse their goblets, and then leaned back in her chair, nursing the goblet’s warmth between her hands and against her breast. Even with her face marred by the crying, she had a simple loveliness that made clear how easily young Benet could have been drawn to her, low birth or not; and because of its simplicity, it was a loveliness likely to last through the years, not fade with youth, although just now, with her hair still fallen loose and the tears and anger at least momentarily gone from her face, she looked even younger than she was, as if she were a small, exhausted child in need of her supper and bed. And with a child’s simplicity she said, “I’m sorry for the crying. I won’t do it again.”
“Unless you need to,” Lady Eleanor answered. “Tears are as good for easing the heart as warmed, spiced wine is for easing the mind, and you may want the comfort these next few days. Cry if you need it.”
Joice smiled a little unsteadily and looked down into her goblet as if the remaining wine might have answers for her. “It would help,” she said, “if I at least knew that my people knew where I was, that they knew what had happened to me.
“What did happen?” Frevisse asked.
Joice looked briefly bewildered at the question. Exhaustion was beginning to overtake her, making her thoughts hard to draw together, but she said, when she had had chance to think about how to say it, “I was coming home from the market. It’s market day in Banbury and I’d gone to the market, of course, and was coming home.”
“You live in Banbury, then.”
“No. In Northampton. My father is Nicholas Southgate, a draper there. I’m in Banbury these few months because my aunt is ill and her children small and I’m seeing to her household.”
“How did Benet know to find you in Banbury?” Frevisse said.
“He saw me there a week ago, at last market. We were both surprised. I didn’t even remember him until he spoke to me and then like a fool I told him why I was there and for how long.”
“But how does he know you at all?” Frevisse asked.
“My father has partners in London and goes there a few times a year. Last spring Sir Lewis Fenner was going to be in London with his cousin Lord Fenner, so Father took me with him so Sir Lewis could have chance to see what he was bargaining for.”
Lady Eleanor and Frevisse exchanged looks. Between the Fenners and the Godfreys there was a long-ongoing quarrel, entangled for years now in legalities and angers, over some piece of land. So Joice Southgate was more than simply someone young Benet wanted-she was a prize snatched from a Fenner. For Frevisse, that explained Sir Reynold’s interest in the matter, let be that the girl was wealthy in the bargain; and unfortunately for both reasons he would be loath to give her up, easily or otherwise.
“We went other places, too, my father and I. He had some very fine brocades and Italian silks to show around to ladies he thought best likely to be interested-and he took me with him so I could see what sort of life he’s going to marry me into. One of the places was a Lady Joanne Godfrey-”
“Sir Reynold’s mother,” Lady Eleanor said, and added with a careful eye on Joice, “My sister.”
Joice snapped her head around to face her. “You’re one of them?” Accusation, wariness, and regret were all in the question together.
Lady Eleanor smiled at her.“It’s why Sir Reynold listened to me in the yard. It’s why he may listen to me better than he does anyone else as this goes on.”
Impulsively, Joice reached out to clasp her wrist. “Thank you.”
Lady Eleanor patted her hand. “It’s only right. Simply because he’s of my family doesn’t mean I have to back him in his greater stupidities. So young Benet saw you in London last spring. And any other time?”
“No, and it was only for a little while then. He came and talked to me while Father was showing the cloth to Lady Joanne. I hardly noticed him. It was already expected I’d be betrothed to Sir Lewis, so what would be the point in my noticing anyone? I never thought of him again until we met in Banbury market last week.”
“But he thought of you,” Lady Eleanor said. “Thought very well of you, apparently.”
“To my grief,” Joice said bitterly. “He had them grab me up from the street as I was going home! I didn’t even know they were there until suddenly there were horsemen all around me and one of them flung me onto Benet’s saddle, and when I tried to fight him, he wrapped me into my cloak so I couldn’t even move and-and-” She gestured helplessly. “I’m here and nobody knows what happened to me or where I am.”
“But people saw what happened to you in Banbury,” Frevisse said. A town was always full with people on a market day; mounted men snatching a resisting girl would not have gone unnoticed. “And it won’t be secret long where you are. Even if Sir Reynold and his men went unrecognized in Banbury, word will be out that there’s been a girl stolen and people will have seen them riding this way with you. Nor there’s no way to stop our own servants here that go back to the village every night from talking about you. By suppertime the whole village will know you’re here and the rest of the countryside will have it tomorrow this time.”
“Then my father will come for me!” Joice said gladly. “He’ll ransom me if he has to. Or Sir Lewis, for honor’s sake, will force them to give me up. He has men enough to make them do it!”
“Has your betrothal been made?” Lady Eleanor asked quickly.
Betrothal vows were as binding as those of marriage. If Joice were actually betrothed to Sir Lewis, any marriage forced on her otherwise, to Benet or anyone else, would be worthless.
Knowing that as well as Frevisse and Lady Eleanor did, Joice was abruptly close to tears again. “No. They’re still drawing up the agreement. It isn’t signed yet. He won’t come. What he wants is my dowry. If I look like being too much trouble-and this is very much trouble-he’ll simply drop it altogether. And it would have been a good marriage for me! He’s cousin to Lord Fenner and has lands in three counties!”
“But if your dowry is very great,” Lady Eleanor said gently, “you may still be worth the trouble to him.”
“So what it comes down to,” Joice said bitterly, “is whether my dowry makes me worth fighting over or not. Whether I’m worth what it might cost to have me out of here.”
“Yes,” Lady Eleanor said simply.
Joice’s eyes widened with another thought. “It might even come to Father agreeing I marry this Benet if everything else is too costly and the marriage is good enough. You said he had lands to inherit. If Sir Lewis fails me, this is something Father could agree to.”