“And you have arranged the date of the happy day?” said Alan, still smiling.
Anne gave a golden laugh. “No, I thought I’d leave at least that much to you.” After a pause she continued “Do you think what I told Foucoud will stand?”
Alan gave a brief tilt of the head as he considered. “By itself, probably not. FitzWymarc is now Geoffrey de Mandeville’s man, and Geoffrey is not a man to let a penny slip out of his hands. However, I’ll have a talk to the king when he gets back in September. De Mandeville will have other things to do than worry about fitzWymarc’s plans. I’ve no doubt I’ll sort it out with William.”
Anne looked seriously at Alan. “Truly I move in exalted circles, if my husband-to-be can talk so casually about meeting the king and so certainly about getting his way!”
Alan laughed. “William owes me a couple of favours and he knows it. Giving me land in Tendring was a part payment. He wouldn’t even think twice about Wivenhoe. He’ll just increase the number of men I have to provide him at service.”
The remaining few miles to Wivenhoe passed quickly and quietly, both Alan and Anne deep in thought.
“Two thoughts,” said Alan at length. “I presume you want me to meet your family. Have you told them yet?”
Anne laughed and replied, “No. I thought I’d better let you know first!”
“On Thursday we’ll need to be back at Thorrington to meet with the thegns. That’s the 7th of June, two days after St Boniface’s Day. The Feast of the Nativity of St John at Midsummer is the 24th June. That’s another Quarter Day when we both have to receive rents and pay our taxes, so that week is busy, quite apart from the seasonal celebrations. I’d suggest a week’s visit in the second week of June, long enough to meet them, not too long if we don’t get on. I’ve never been to Ipswich, so if needs be you can get me out of the house by showing me the local sights. On the way back we can look at North Tendring- Manningtree, Bradfield, Ramsey, Dovercourt. Since you know about everything else, do you know about salt-pans?”
“No. What was your other thought?” asked Anne.
“You’re going to have to learn Norman French, and quickly. I’m a member of the Curia Regis and I’m expected to attend at the king’s court. If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you wouldn’t want to look like a country bumpkin. Some good jewellery would be a good idea as well. It’ll help take the attention of the French- born women off your being English”.
“You are not ashamed of me already, are you?” asked Anne in alarm.
Alan reached over and patted her hand in reassurance. “Definitely not, but French women are all bitches who do nothing but needlework and gossip. Not one that I have met has a fraction of your ability and intelligence. I want a wife who is a working partner, if perhaps the junior partner, not just an ornament or a sleeping-partner. I just don’t want to give those bitches something else about which to criticize you.” He affected a high pitched voice, “Oh! The woman not only doesn’t know about fashion or wear the latest dresses, but she doesn’t do needle-point and can’t speak French. Worst of all she can read,” he mimicked.
“When should we get married?” asked Anne, reaching across with her left hand to hold Alan’s right.
“As soon as possible, to present that bastard de Mandeville with a fait accompli that he can’t change. There’s no way he’s going to ask the pope to annul the marriage,” replied Alan. “Where do you want the ceremony? Ipswich, Wivenhoe or Thorrington?”
“I think Wivenhoe, so the people can see their new lord, then we’ll move to Thorrington. It’s got better accommodation in that wondrous new Hall. I won’t need to get any jewellery. The part of my dowry that wasn’t in cash, which my former husband promptly gambled away, was in jewellery. Merchants believe strongly in easily transportable wealth.”
With the early start to the day they arrived at Anne’s Hall at Wivenhoe a little before noon. Leof had hardly been able to walk after he had climbed off his horse and Anne had asked a young housemaid to rub his chapped and aching thighs with ointment of wintergreen, sure that both would find some benefit from this.
As their arrival hadn’t been expected, Anne’s cook Rheda was put into a panic by their sudden arrival. After some quick preparation, Friday being a fish day, she provided grilled fresh trout with garlic and carmeline sauces and fried vegetables followed by fresh fruit, washed down with red wine.
Anne drank her wine well-watered, Alan his un-watered but in moderation. Anne spent the afternoon showing Alan Wivenhoe with as much pride as he had shown her Thorrington and its new fort, and she checked on progress with the refugees. About a quarter had already left to return to whatever was left of their former homes and lives, others were more fearful and were waiting for the armed escort that Wybert, Anne’s steward, had promised. Others, perhaps half of the total, had asked to be permitted to stay, stating that they had nothing and nobody left to return to and that they felt secure in this community.
With more time for preparation Rheda pronounced herself more satisfied with the usually less elaborate and smaller evening meal, this time of shrimps with onions and garlic, fried herring with mustard sauce, vegetables with cumin sauce followed by an apple tart. The couple dined alone at the high table, the servants eating more simple food at the trestle tables in the lower part of the Hall. Anne gave some quiet instructions to her maid Esme who left the Hall and reappeared sometime later.
Like the Hall that Alan had ‘inherited’ from Estan, Anne’s Hall had private quarters at one end screened off by a wooden wall. With a direct look at Alan, Anne said, “It’s been a long day and we’re both dusty from the ride. Let me escort you to the bedchamber where I have arranged a bath.”
Nothing loath, Alan rose and was surprised when, after leading the way into the bedchamber, Anne dismissed Esme. There was a large metal hip-bath and several wooden buckets of hot water placed on the floor. After the door had closed she shed her own russet coloured dress, standing in her knee-length white shift. Moving to Alan she said, “Come, you can’t bathe dressed, let’s get that tunic off you,” as she gently pulled the tunic over his head. Alan, while acknowledging that he was sometimes not quick on the uptake, was quick enough to unbuckle and remove his own pants.
Anne gestured for him to step into the bath, pouring a bucket of warm water over him and began to scrub him with soap and a sponge. Alan gently undid the buttons at Anne’s breasts and she allowed the shift to fall to the floor. They soon found out that there was insufficient room in the bath for two, and after taking it in turns to wash and be washed and dried Anne took Alan by the hand and led him towards the bed, untying her long auburn hair and shaking it to fall loose as she did so.
About an hour later, now understanding why Edyth tended to be so noisy in her love-making, satiated and satisfied that for once the sexual act had involved tenderness and love rather than violence and abuse, Anne asked in a sleepy voice from her position curled up under Alan’s arm, “Are Edyth’s breasts really better than mine?”
“Yes,” replied Alan, with his usual lack of appreciation of when to dissemble. “They’re larger, but yours are nice and firm,” he said with a gentle squeeze of one of the parts under discussion.
“
When he got his breath back Alan replied, “Well, you did say that my honesty was one of the points that redeemed my Frenchness. You need to learn not to ask questions when you may not like the answer!”
“And you, my little Frenchman, or indeed not very little at all, need to learn when discretion is required,” growled Anne.
Towards daybreak after their third, or was it fourth, time Anne asked, “When is your
Alan had not been insensitive to the fact that Anne had invited him into her bed, rather than trying to inveigle her way into his. “Well, my little
As she moved on top of him Anne said, “How about today?”
Later, as they were dressing she said, “Seriously, what are you going to do about Edyth?”
“I was thinking about giving her a nice farm up near Frating. With a good income and her looks, she’ll have no trouble finding a suitable man,” replied Alan.
“Dovercourt,” replied Anne firmly, naming the town furthest away in the Tendring Hundred.
Alan smiled. “Dovercourt,” he agreed. “And let’s make it Tuesday so she has time to pack properly.”
“I’ll be there mid-day Tuesday and you just make sure there are no farewells between now and then,” said Anne with a not very veiled threat in her voice.
Alan gave a single nod of agreement. “We’ll move into the Hall at the new fort at the same time,” he
