An Earthly Knight Read online

  “Oh, Jenny, feel it,” Isabel said, running her hands over the heavy fabric. There was no envy in her voice. She was taking Jenny’s good fortune with her usual grace.

  Galiene draped a length of the cloth over Jenny’s shoulder. But the touch of the silk brought Jenny’s dream back to her vividly, and with it, all the misgivings she was trying to hide from herself. “If Earl William is not to my liking, how will I be able to refuse?” The words rushed out without warning.

  Isabel looked alarmed.

  “There, there,” Galiene said, putting her arm around Jenny. “Many’s a bride-to-be has cold feet before she meets her betrothed. It will all come to rights. Wait and see, my honey.”

  Everyone was speaking as if the betrothal were already accomplished. Jenny felt trapped. Would an earl’s wife ever be able to ride in the woods alone? Would the queen of Scotland, if it came to that? Suddenly, the bower walls seemed to press in on her.

  “I need time to think,” she said, pushing the scarlet cloth away. “I will take La Rose for a ride.” No one tried to stop her. That was something else she noticed. Everyone was treating her as if she were already above them.

  At least La Rose was no longer trapped in the dark stable. The horses had been turned out to pasture in the warm weather. The mare cantered over when Jenny whistled for her, tossing her head in delight. Jenny led her to the stable and was on her back before anyone had time to object.

  The corn stood high in the fields now, tasselled oats and barley just beginning to turn gold. Summer was passing, without her it seemed. Would she always feel so trapped and confined if she were the wife of an earl? Jenny nudged La Rose with her heels, urging the mare to a gallop. Her hunger for the forest was suddenly overwhelming. How could she have lived without it all these weeks? The canopy of trees was full and green, sunlight falling in golden shafts through rare openings. Without stopping to think, she turned La Rose toward Carter Hall, where she had always imagined herself living with a husband.

  The gardens at Carter Hall were overgrown now, but the hardiest flowers still bloomed in their seasons. Bluebells carpeted the ground in spring, and there were roses all summer. Jenny’s favourite had pale pink buds that opened into cream-coloured blossoms. Those roses would be blooming now. Perhaps she would feel better if she could gather some and breathe their scent. La Rose crossed the river at a broad, shallow ford and Jenny guided her into the fairies’ woods.

  Soon after fording the Tweed, Jenny rode into a small, steep-sided glen, where a fast little brook called Lin Burn tumbled down toward the river. Rocky, treed hills rose on either side, giving the place a sheltered, peaceful air. Jenny had played here with Eudo since she first took to the saddle. Over the years, the forest had reclaimed the land, so the ruined buildings now emerged suddenly from the bush.

  The first thing Jenny saw was a white horse tethered to the old stone well. Snowdrop, Jenny remembered he was called. Tam Lin’s horse. Jenny kicked herself down off La Rose. How dare he treat this place as his own? Carter Hall belonged to her. All the mixed emotions she had been trying to contain boiled to the surface and she burst into tears. She launched herself at the roses in a fury, ripping the flowers, letting the brambles scratch until she bled. If this place was not hers, it would be no one’s.

  “Is this how the wood sprite tends my garden?” a voice behind her said.

  She turned, prepared to fight, but there was no anger in his voice or his eyes, only mild amusement that made her even more angry.

  “You have no right to be here. Go home.” She knew she was shouting.

  He raised an eyebrow in response. “Something has upset you, I think. Come and sit down.”

  His kindness defeated her. Suddenly, all her anger was gone. She felt heavy and drained. He took both arms in his hands and gently led her to an old stone bench. “Stay here,” he said, and he disappeared.

  Jenny’s face burned with shame. She could not believe she had behaved so badly. She vowed, when Tam Lin returned, she would act like someone worthy of a royal household.

  He came back with a clean, wet cloth, sat beside her, pushed up the sleeve of her kirtle and began to wipe the blood from one arm, patiently, gently.

  The cold water stung, but Jenny did not pull away. Instead, she tried to maintain her dignity.

  “Other arm,” he said, after a few minutes. The cloth was streaked bright red. Jenny obeyed in what she hoped might seem a regal manner. When he finished, he rose again. “When I come back, perhaps we can talk.”

  He was gone so long, Jenny wondered if she should search for him. But then he returned, carrying a horn cup and another length of clean, wet linen. “Drink this,” he said. The cool, sweet water soothed her throat. “Now, stay still.” He took her chin in his hand and wiped her face. She was surprised to see how dirty it had been. “You go all blotchy when you cry, you know,” he said. Then he sat back and studied her, as if inspecting his work. “You really are the strangest creature.”

  His words stung as much as the rose brambles. “A fine one to talk, you are,” Jenny said. “Do you know what folk say of you?” She immediately regretted her words.

  His face went stony. “That I do. I doubt you could add anything that would be new to me.”

  There was a long silence while Jenny stared at her lap. “Sorry,” she said finally in a very small voice. “I seem to be a bit daft today.” Then, after a pause, “Thank you for your kindness.“

  When she looked up again he was smiling.

  “Everyone acts daft from time to time. Can you tell me what the trouble is?”

  “I may have to marry a man I have never laid eyes on.”

  “Nothing strange about that for a lass of your rank, is there?”

  “I suppose not, but, you see, he is a powerful noble. And I may not be the only lass.”

  “He would have to be a fool to pick another over you,” he said.

  Jenny looked at him in surprise. How could he tease her when she was so upset? “Stop your silly Norman flattery. What if I disappoint everyone? My father most of all.”

  He drew back as if she had slapped him. “It was not my intention to vex you. You are a bit like a thorn patch yourself, you know.” If this honesty was an attempt to make her feel better, it failed. He must have noticed, because he hurried on. “Perhaps I can help. Would this powerful noble be anyone I know?”

  Jenny suddenly remembered he was not just a strange man in the woods but the Earl of Roxburg’s grandson.

  “Earl William de Warenne. The king’s brother,” she added, in case there was any doubt.

  Tam Lin smiled. “In that case, he may act the fool and choose another. For he is one.”

  Jenny burst out laughing. “No one else speaks of him like that. ‘The flower of Scottish manhood: they say.”

  “Oh, aye. If knocking a knight off a horse with a stick makes the man, Earl William is one. Jousting seems like such nonsense to me. Now Malcolm, King Malcolm I should say, would make a good husband. Kindly, scholarly, the flower of chivalry. But he has sworn himself to celibacy. A notion more suited to a monk than a king, but it seems to run in the family. His father’s family, not his mother’s. Young William favours his mother’s folk. A Norman through and through.”

  “So they say,” Jenny replied.

  “Well, now I understand your temper. The thought of marrying William would put any young woman out of sorts.” Before Jenny could protest, he continued. “But why did you say this place is yours? I was born here, you know.”

  Jenny nodded. “Aye, but you must know my father owns the land now. He gave Carter Hall to me, to be my tocher.”

  “This is all you possess?”

  Jenny nodded, and Tam Lin smiled. “Well, that brightens your lot considerably.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Earl William has debts. He has no earldom to support him, you see. He was given Northumberland when his father died, but the king of England demanded it with other lands soon after Malcolm was crow
ned. The borderlands are always in dispute. Malcolm probably avoided war by giving in. That was prudent, but William is very bitter. Our young earl will be looking for a lass with a tocher. Mark my words.”

  Jenny looked down. “‘My father will be very disappointed,” she said after a long silence.

  When she looked up, Tam Lin searched her face. “And you? The thought of being queen-in-waiting is not entirely abhorrent to you, is it?” He seemed to look right into her soul.

  She could not lie to him. “‘I find it hard to know what I feel. Maybe I would like to be the wife of an important noble. If I could meet Earl William, I would feel more certain. But the meeting is weeks and weeks away.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Now, now. I just got you all tidy. Your tears will spoil my handiwork.” He sighed. “The wife of a powerful man is more an ornament than anything else, lass, like the falcon on his wrist. You seem too spirited to content yourself with such a role.”

  Jenny knew spirited was too kind a word for the way she had behaved today, but she silently accepted his kindness. “That may be. I feel I am being pulled in all directions at once, until I have no notion what I want.”

  He put his arm around her. If any other man had done such a thing, Jenny would have pulled away, but the action was so natural, so gentle, she could not take offence. Instead, she leaned against his shoulder. As in the dream, she felt as if she belonged.

  After a long moment she asked, “Why do you live out here alone?”

  She felt his shoulder stiffen, as if the question shocked him. Then he relaxed and sighed. “I suppose I can tell you some of it. I find myself in a bit of trouble. I need to think. This place is so peaceful. It seems to help.”

  Jenny nodded against his shoulder. “This place is peaceful. More than anywhere I know.” She wondered what kind of trouble he could be in, then remembered what he had said about Earl William. “Are you in debt too?”

  He laughed. “You could say so. There are many kinds of debt, after all.”

  Could he be talking about the fairies? Jenny found it impossible to ask. He seemed so levelheaded, and she had already made herself look silly enough today. She suddenly realized she was sitting alone in the woods with her head on a strange man’s shoulder. This would not do. She made herself stand.

  “I must go.”

  Now it was his turn to look down. “I understand,” he said, but she thought she heard regret in his voice. It must be terribly lonely out here. She tried to think of something that would comfort him as he had comforted her.

  “If I had money, Tam Lin, I would give it to you.”

  He smiled and stood beside her. “Thank you, Jeanette Avenel. But what I need would cost you more than gold. Go now, and try to decide where your heart lies.”

  Jenny smiled. “Thank you for your kindness. I feel better.”

  “Of course you do. I have a talent for healing. Whistle for that little mare of yours. I like to see how she comes to you.”

  So Jenny did. As she started down the path she turned to wave, but Tam had already disappeared.

  While she rode home, the scratches on her arms vanished like water splashed on stone in the sun. He must have a talent for healing indeed, she thought.

  Chapter Nine

  “Singing lessons! But Papa, you say yourself I have the voice of a crow.”

  Behind her father, Jenny saw Cospatric try to suppress a smile.

  “If you think this is maidenly modesty, Cospatric, you will soon think again. Galiene says I need a bucket to carry a tune.”

  “A lady of your rank should know the old Norman songs,” her father said.

  “I know the songs by heart, Papa. To sing them, I would need a voice.”

  The vicomte’s expression darkened. “It will please Earl William to hear them.”

  “How is it that you are so well versed in Earl William’s desires,” Jenny said, “without ever setting eyes on him?”

  Isabel placed herself between them. “I will help Cospatric with her lessons, Papa. She may learn in spite of her voice.”

  “Very well. My huntsman has seen signs of a boar in the woods. We will be gone all day. You may work here in the hall.”

  When he left, Isabel said, “Jenny, you should not provoke our father so. He only wishes you to win Earl William’s favour. Besides,” she added, “this will give us a rest from sewing.”

  For the last week, Galiene had kept Jenny, Isabel and a young servant girl named Hilde working almost constantly on the scarlet silk dress. “I will be glad to rest my eyes, but you know I have no ear for music. For all we know, Earl William may hate music.”

  “He would be a strange knight indeed if that were so,” Cospatric said. “Even those who have no ear for music learn to pretend they do, and so may you, my lady.” He turned to Isabel. “You know the Norman songs. How should we teach your sister?”

  “The rondes, the line dances, always use two singers. One repeats each line after the other so that the rhythm is unbroken. We could start with those. If Jenny learns to sing for the dances, that might satisfy our father. Some of the tunes are monotonous. That will help.”

  Jenny made a face. “So I am to be schooled in monotony. No doubt that will win Earl William’s heart.” Isabel looked as though she might cry. “Oh, Isabel, forgive me,” Jenny said at once. “I should be better.” She knew most sisters in Isabel’s place would not be so kind.

  Isabel gave a tired smile. “I will be glad when word comes of your meeting with Earl William, Jenny. You and our father both grow more grumbly by the day.”

  “Perhaps you could sing a song for your sister, my lady,” Cospatric said, “to show her what they should sound like.”

  So Isabel sang a ronde. “Now, we can try it together,” she said when she had finished.

  Even knowing her limitations, Jenny was amazed to discover her voice could stray so far from the tune in a single line of song. Isabel came in at the end of each line to guide her, but Jenny could tell from Cospatric’s face that she was not doing well. After a few verses, he stopped them.

  “Perhaps it would be best if you sang with your sister, my lady, in unison.”

  Jenny felt like crying, but she tried. Buoyed by Isabel’s fine, clear voice, Jenny finished a whole song without going astray.

  “Well done,” Cospatric said when they finished.

  “Now we should try it the proper way,” Jenny said.

  “Not yet. And no faces, please.” The harper surprised Jenny with his sudden sternness. “We will do the songs until they are perfect, then do them again. This is how music is learned.”

  Behind him, Isabel nodded. She understood him completely.

  So every afternoon for a few hours, Jenny did as they wished. After the first day, Jenny saw Alric, the lame boy, steal into the hall. He kept to the shadows but listened intently. Jenny wished she could share his interest.

  “All music is about monotony,” she said one day. “Even the most interesting songs must be sung to death.”

  Isabel smiled. “But you are learning. You can carry a tune now.”

  “Aye, but my voice will never be like yours, Isabel. Give me my reward,” Jenny demanded.

  Isabel smiled again as she sat on the bench beside Cospatric. She was teaching him the Norman songs too, the long, complex ballads that Jenny would never master. The tunes came easily to him, but the words were harder. Jenny and Isabel laughed at his awkward French, and Cospatric laughed with them, for he was not a proud man. Jenny marvelled at his patience and skill. At the end of the lesson, Isabel always sang one song just for joy. Her beautiful voice reminded Jenny of the free flight of some graceful bird. Cospatric and Isabel sounded perfect together.

  The music lessons provided only a brief release from sewing. The scarlet silk dress seemed to take forever. But it was almost finished when the messenger arrived from Rowanwald three weeks later. Jenny looked up as the boy entered the bower. Her eyes burned and she rubbed her fingertip with her thumb. S
he had already broken three bone needles.

  “Well, boy,” Galiene said, “eager as we are to hear your words, we must wait for Vicomte Avenel.” Jenny’s father arrived, red-faced and out of breath, before she finished speaking.

  “Out with it, boy,” he commanded, but the messenger’s words were for Jenny.

  “Brother Bertrand sends you greetings and news from the Lady Bethoc mac Askil, my lady,” he began. “The blessings of our Lord be upon you. Lady Jeanette Avenel is asked to travel to the household of Comte Robert de Burneville at Lilliesleaf, one week hence, to meet Earl William de Warenne. Lady mac Askil is newly with child and cannot travel. She begs you forgive her.”

  The bower erupted into cheers and laughter, as if Jenny had won a prize. She tried to smile, but the news that Lady Bethoc would not be there alarmed her. Whenever Jenny pictured herself with Earl William, it was always under Lady Bethoc’s watchful eye.

  “Who will go with me to Lilliesleaf?” she asked when the commotion died down.

  “Why, I will,” her father replied. “It will be good to see my old friend Sir Robert. And I can make sure Eudo is known to Earl William as well. We can make plans this evening. Right now, the miller is here to discuss the state of the millstones. I must return to him.” But then he paused. “Oh, Jeanette, Ranulf says there are two eyases in the eyrie you found at the top of the knowe. One looks to be a falcon. You may have a peregrine for Earl William this fall.”

  “Back to work. We must finish the dress.” Galiene patted Jenny’s shoulder. “You know I cannot travel, hen, but Hilde’s bones are young enough to make the trip. She will attend you.”

  Jenny tried to enjoy the excited chatter around her, but she longed to speak alone with Isabel. Galiene would keep them in the bower all day unless she acted.

  “Galiene,” she said, “the day is fair. Isabel and I will sit outside where the light is good and finish these sleeves.”

  Galiene looked as if she would protest, then stopped. “As you wish, my lady,” she said, “But please keep the cloth out of the sun. It will fade.”