how Jordan was so badly betrayed and dishonored by Luke, one should not forget the little girl he saved.”
Baldwin felt his eyebrows rise. “What of her?”
“Sir Baldwin, that little girl was the daughter of one of my tenants. I own land up beyond Tiverton, and in other parts of the country. I have a duty to the girl, do I not?”
“Are you saying that the girl was Jeanne?”
“Yes. When I heard of her parents’ murder, I went immediately to her. When Jordan said that the hue was right behind him, I wonder whether it was in truth his pursuit or just the messengers sent to tell me of the killings. Either way, it doesn’t signify, for the result would have been the same, because the men told me that Jordan Lybbe was responsible for the murders, and when I sent to have him taken, he had already flown, which was enough at the time to convince many of his guilt.”
“Was it you who arranged for her to be sent to Gascony?”
The Abbot looked up. “What else could be done? There was nowhere in the Abbey here for a girl. Though I daresay I might have found a place for her in the town, it seemed better to me that she should be among her own family. Her uncle had bought his freedom some time before, and I knew where he lived, so I sent a message to him. He had become quite a wealthy man, and agreed to look after and raise her. She was only a youngster. When a few years ago I heard that Ralph de Liddinstone was to wed her, I was pleased to hear that she would return to Devon, but I must confess to a qualm that she should marry him. Sir Baldwin, Sir Ralph was no gentle husband.”
Baldwin wondered what was the point of this discourse. The Abbot stood meditatively staring out of the window as he continued: “I am sure that he beat his wife regularly, and without good reason. When he drank, he could be abusive even to me, and if he felt his wife had slighted him, I am sure he would be quite brutal to her. It was no happy thought that she had bound herself to him.”
“I am grateful that you feel you can confide this in me, my lord Abbot, but what has it to do with me?” Baldwin asked gently.
“Sir Baldwin, if you have any hopes of wooing Lady Jeanne, I would want you to know that she has not enjoyed an easy life. Her childhood was ruined by Luke and his men, her youth was spent in a strange land, and her marriage was not successful.” His eyes met Baldwin’s as he continued quietly, “She deserves better, Sir Baldwin. You are a kindly, gentle knight, a man of integrity. If you could win her, I would thank God for at last giving her someone who would love her and treat her as she truly deserves.”
“I would be honored to win her affection,” Baldwin said hesitantly. “But I hardly know what her feelings might be.”
The Abbot peered through his window. “Perhaps you should try to find out, then. The orchard looks a pleasant place to walk in peace, does it not?”
Following the direction of the Abbot’s glance, Baldwin saw Jeanne’s figure. “I think it looks a splendid place, my lord Abbot.”
In the bright sunlight the orchard seemed to glow with health. Underfoot the grass was thick and springy, there was a constant chuckling from the river to his left, while in the trees doves from the Abbey’s cote murmured and cooed. The apple trees themselves appeared so laden with fruit that Baldwin was vaguely surprised the thinner branches could support the weight.
Ahead he saw her, and he stopped and watched her for a while.
Surely, he thought, she deserved a more gentle life now. He was not rich, but he was comfortable, and he could give her a degree of security while he lived. And she had shown him that she was receptive, once they had both overcome their embarrassment at being watched closely by all around. Almost without realizing, he found he was walking toward her, and when he was a mere few yards from her, she turned sharply, hearing his steps.
“Lady, my apologies if I alarmed you.”
“No, no, Sir Baldwin. I simply wasn’t expecting anyone,” she said.
“May I walk with you?”
“Of course.”
“You were deep in thought.”
She glanced at him. “Even widows can think, Sir Baldwin.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to infer…”
“I know. I’m sorry, I’m just rather on edge today.”
They were silent a while as they meandered among the trees, but soon their aimless wandering brought them to the great stews where the Abbey’s fish were kept. Here they followed its banks.
The sunlight reflected from the water onto her face, and her features became dappled with the golden light as they walked, always changing as they passed from reeds to places where lilies floated. All had their own effect on her face, and to Baldwin she was almost painfully beautiful.
“My lady, I…”
“Sir Baldwin…”
Both paused, then their expressions lightened, and after a few moments’ polite invitations on either side to continue, Baldwin yielded to Jeanne’s repeated pleas.
It was not easy. He avoided her gaze, staring at the river in search of inspiration. “My lady, I have enjoyed your company over the last few days, the more so since you appear not to have been averse to mine.”
“Have I been so forward?”
“No, Jeanne, not at all!” he declared hotly, then grimaced as he saw her face. “And now you make me look a fool. Perhaps I am wrong, and should not…”
“Sir Baldwin,” she said, and touched his arm lightly. “Forgive me. I am sometimes too frivolous. Please, carry on.”
He gave her a doubtful look, then took a deep breath. “Jeanne, I have only a small estate, but it is good and provides well. My lands extend from Cadbury down to Crediton, with farms and mills spread all over. My house is a large place, with good rooms, and is warm in winter and cool in summer. My lady, I think the whole is empty. The land is to me a desert, the mills are broken, and the house a ruin, because when I look at you, I see what is missing. There!” He sighed heavily. “I have said it, and can say no more. Do you look on me as an utter idiot, or could I hope that you feel even remotely the same?”
Jeanne stood and stared away from him toward the trees at the opposite bank. “Baldwin, you do me a great honor. No,” as he began to interrupt, “let me finish. You do me as great an honor as any man could do a lady, and the fact that I know you to be an honest and decent knight means much to me. I feel more… privileged that you should offer me this than I would if an earl did.”
“But you must refuse me,” he said.
“For now, yes. Baldwin, don’t look at me like that. I am a widow, with a life just ended. Oh, I know the Abbot would like me to be wed again, not because he begrudges me the manor or the living, but because he is fearful for my safety, a poor woman on her own up at Liddinstone.” She gave a little laugh. “But I can manage Liddinstone as well as my husband ever did.”
“So why do you refuse me?”
“I do not refuse you, Sir Baldwin, but consider: how long have you been alone? All your life, and now, over the space of a couple of days you have decided that I am a suitable wife for you. That is most generous, and I feel the honor of it, but I am new to being alone, and in truth, I am enjoying it. Why should I immediately seal a new contract? At the least I think I deserve time to consider your proposal.”
He gazed at the ground testily. This was a new situation for him; he was unsure how to continue. An outright rejection he could have coped with; a straightforward acceptance would have been preferable – although he candidly admitted to himself that it would have been almost as daunting – but this nebulous “maybe” was confusing.
“So, lady, if you do not refuse me, but do not say ‘yes,’ what must I do to persuade you to agree to my offer?”
“Sir Baldwin, you asked me whether I should like to see Furnshill. Perhaps you could invite me to visit you with the bailiff and his wife when they next stay with you. And then – who knows? Perhaps I will say yes.”
It was with a light heart that David Holcroft walked into the room over the gatehouse to the Abbey. His duties as a port-reeve were almost at an end, his wife’s moodiness was explained at last, the murders had been solved, and the weather was excellent. Life felt good.
