Kitabı oku: «The Devil’s Diadem», sayfa 3

CHAPTER FIVE

Naturally, fate and Lady Adelie conspired to make me break my promise within the hour.

Mistress Yvette arrived in the chamber, all bustle and busyness, and said that the countess wished Evelyn and myself to bring the children to greet their father and the king. I sent one frantic look to Evelyn, but she was no help, having turned away to speak with Alice and Emmette, so I swallowed my nerves, settled John on one hip — Sweet Jesu let me not drop him — and took Rosamund by the hand.

She was a sweet girl and gave me a happy smile, and I reminded myself that all I needed to do was escort the children into the solar, perhaps hand John to his mother, then step back and wait silently in the shadows.

Ancel and Robert were back with us by this stage, and Evelyn took them in hand, straightening their tunics and hair, and positioning them on either side of her, one hand on each boy’s shoulder as if that might actually restrain them.

So, with Mistress Yvette leading the way, we progressed toward the solar.

Two men-at-arms stood either side of the closed door. They were weaponed and wary, and as good an indication, if any were needed, that they protected someone of immeasurable worth beyond the door. I did not know them, nor did their stern faces relieve my nerves. Mistress Yvette looked at them, then nodded back at us. One of the men relaxed enough to stand down from his guard and open the door into the chamber.

We filed in and I kept myself as far as I could in Mistress Yvette’s shadow. Evelyn caught my eye, giving a small smile of reassurance.

I was surprised at how uncrowded it was. I had expected the same bustle and chaos in the solar as was in evidence everywhere else, but there was only a group seated in chairs and benches about one of the open windows.

Light spilled in the window and over the group, and I had to blink in order to make them out.

There was Edmond, seated in the imposing chair that was normally the earl’s.

Pengraic sat next to him, leaning close as they murmured quietly.

Lady Adelie sat on a chair opposite them. She was packed about with pillows and cushions, and I thought she looked weary.

Beside her sat Stephen, his hair gleaming in the sunshine, leaning in to the service of his mother as the earl did to the king. Two other men — great nobles by their dress — completed the circle; I soon learned they were Walter de Roche, Earl of Summersete, and Gilbert de Montgomerie, Earl of Scersberie, and a Marcher Lord like Pengraic.

Lady Adelie noticed us first, and, as she gave a smile, so Stephen turned.

He noticed me immediately as I hid behind Mistress Yvette, almost as if he’d been looking, and gave an imperceptible nod.

‘Ah, my children,’ Pengraic said, and then they were all looking at us, and I tried to shuffle even further behind Mistress Yvette.

To no avail. Both the earl and the king looked directly at me, no doubt reliving my earlier humiliation. I glanced at Lady Adelie and saw that her face was sympathetic.

They had told her then, yet she did not condemn me.

The older children, Alice, Emmette and the twins, dipped or bowed before the king, then Pengraic beckoned Alice forward a step.

‘Gilbert,’ the earl said, ‘this is my daughter Alice.’

Alice dimpled prettily at the closer of the two noblemen, and curtsied again. I looked at the gleam of interest in the nobleman’s eyes, and wondered if Pengraic was arranging a match between Alice and this man — the Earl of Scersberie. Scersberie was an old man, older even than Pengraic, and I thought it likely Alice was to replace a wife lost to the ravages of childbirth.

I wondered if Alice were to be the first replacement, or a second or third. I had a momentary gladness that I had no estates or dowry, that I, too, might be handed about, offered to old men who lusted after my riches.

Pengraic beckoned Emmette forward, introducing her, then the twins stepped forward at his gesture.

‘Ancel, Robert,’ Pengraic said, ‘you remember my lord of Summersete. It seems you will be going to his household a little sooner than expected.’

The boys dipped their heads and looked suitably restrained. The Earl of Summersete, a much younger man, and darkly handsome, gave them a friendly enough nod.

Sweet Jesu, I thought, was Pengraic about to dispose of all his children at this one gathering?

‘And these two are the babies I have left,’ the countess said, and gestured me forward.

John was wriggling about on my hip, and I was having trouble holding him, but Rosamund behaved beautifully, walking forward docilely but confidently, and dipping in a little courtesy that put my attempt to shame.

I still could not look at either the earl or the king.

‘The little boy I have met previous,’ said Edmond. ‘On the stairs a short while ago.’

He paused, and I finally looked at him. His eyes were warm, glinting with secret amusement.

Then Edmond saved me by bending forward so he could look Rosamund in the eyes and take all attention away from myself and John.

‘And who is this pretty little maid?’ Edmond said, his voice soft, and he held out a hand.

I let Rosamund’s hand go and she walked over to the king, her arms out, laughing, and the king grinned and swung her up to his lap.

‘And this is the daughter I shall lay claim to, Raife, should ever I lose my beloved Adelaide.’

All attention was now on the king and the girl in his lap, and I faded backward, keeping a firm grip on the still-wriggling John, who seemed determined to get down.

For a few minutes the group exchanged pleasantries about the children, then Pengraic caught Lady Adelie’s eye, who in turn summoned Mistress Yvette over to her side.

Mistress Yvette listened, nodded, then took Rosamund from the king, caught the twins’ eyes and jerked her head toward the door.

Alice, ever watchful, smiled and dipped in yet another pretty courtesy, taking leave of the men and her mother. Her sister Emmette followed Alice’s example, and both girls walked over to where I stood with Evelyn.

Thank the Lord, I thought, we are to be dismissed.

Mistress Yvette brought Rosamund over, and handed her to Evelyn.

‘Take the children, Evelyn, and keep them in their chamber for the day,’ she said quietly, keeping our consultations from disturbing the group by the window. ‘Their mother does not want them running about the house today. Not the twins, certainly not the girls. I need to find William, and confer with him about tonight’s feast.’

Yvette surprised me by taking John from my arms and handing him to Alice. ‘Maeb,’ she said, ‘stay here and serve the men and our lady their wine, and if Lady Adelie should look too exhausted, then run to find me, that I might aid her back to her bed.’

‘But —’ I started. But I can’t stay here and serve these great nobles their wine! What if I should drop —

‘You will do well enough, Maeb,’ Mistress Yvette said in a tone that brooked no dissent, and with that she, Evelyn, and the children turned and left the room.

I briefly closed my eyes, seeking courage. The closest I had ever come to high nobility was standing in a small crowd in Witenie on May Day, three years past, watching silently as a knight wearing a magnificent surcoat over his maille hauberk, and his two squires, rode past in splendid indifference to our awed gaze.

I opened my eyes, automatically seeking out Lady Adelie for reassurance.

She saw me looking and gave a little nod, either to hurry me up or to impart some sense of confidence.

I chose to believe the latter and so, wiping my hands among my skirts to dry away my nerves, I walked over to a small chest on which sat several ewers and a number of silver wine cups.

I poured out six cups of a rich, spiced and unwatered wine, then carried two across to the group, offering one first to the king, and the other to Pengraic.

The king gave me a warm look as he took the cup, the earl a cool and somewhat calculating one. I got the sense from the earl that he could not wait for a chance to berate me again; one did not have to consult all the saints in heaven to know I’d given him reason enough this day.

The next two cups I took to the other two earls, serving the Earl of Summersete first.

Summersete gave me a long look as he took the goblet from my hand. ‘Is she to be trusted?’ he said to Pengraic. ‘I do not see why we cannot this once serve our own wine.’

‘She can be trusted,’ said Lady Adelie. ‘She has no loyalty but to this household, and will not betray it. And she is not here just to serve wine. I am not well with this child I carry, and would prefer that one of my women remain to attend me if needed.’

Over the past weeks I had come to like and respect Lady Adelie. Now she had my complete loyalty for these words of confidence.

Something in my back straightened. ‘I will not speak anything I hear in this chamber,’ I said. ‘I swear it, my lords.’

‘For God’s sake, Summersete,’ said Edmond, ‘the next thing you’ll be wanting to rack her to see if she will confess to being in the King of Sicily’s employ. Leave it be. I am too weary and too heartsick to want to find new shadows among the army that already gather about us!’

A few short weeks ago I had been but the orphaned daughter of a lowly knight, lost in her rustic idyll. Now I was not only serving wine to the King of England and some of his greatest nobles, but this king and these nobles were engaged in an argument about whether I might be a spy in the employ of the King of Sicily.

My mouth twitched. I caught Stephen’s eye as I moved about Summersete to serve Scersberie, and, God help me, the amusement in Stephen’s face almost undid me.

I retreated hastily to the chest and collected the final two cups for Lady Adelie and Stephen, keeping my eyes downcast as I served them. I then moved to a spot several paces away from the group and sat on a stool, distant enough not to be obtrusive, yet close enough to see if any needed his goblet refilled, or if the Lady Adelie needed my attention.

And close enough to hear the conversation that ensued.

‘My lady,’ Edmond said to Lady Adelie, ‘I do beg your forgiveness for this unexpected intrusion. I know you prefer to keep a quiet household and my appearance has very evidently shattered the calm. Please, do not trouble yourself to arrange any richness of entertainment or feasting on my behalf. I am content to rest and eat as any member of your household.’

‘My dear lord,’ Lady Adelie replied, ‘you are truly welcome in my house, and whatever feast or entertainment I offer you, be assured it is offered out of love and respect and not out of obligation. My only fear is that your arrival in such hasty manner, and without your usual retinue, foretells some heavy and terrible tidings.’

‘I regret to say that it does, madam,’ Edmond said. He sighed, fiddling a little with his wine cup before resuming. ‘The south-east, from Dovre to Cantuaberie, is struck with plague. We have heard rumours of it in France and further east, but had hoped our realm should be spared. Not to be, I am afraid.’

‘We should have closed the ports months ago,’ Scersberie said.

‘Well enough to say that now,’ Pengraic said, ‘but then we did not understand how vilely this plague spreads, nor how long it takes to show its evil nature.’

‘My lords,’ Lady Adelie said, ‘please, tell me more. What plague? How dire, that my lord king had to flee Westminster?’

Edmond indicated that Pengraic should respond.

‘My lady,’ Pengraic said, ‘my lord king’s council has, for the past several months, received reports of a plague that had spread west from the lands of the Byzantine Empire, through the Hungarian and German duchies and into the French duchies — even the Iberian states of Aragon and Navarre have not been spared. The rumours spoke of terrible suffering —’

‘How so?’ said Lady Adelie.

Edmond shook his head slightly at Pengraic, and the countess turned to the king.

‘My lord,’ she said, ‘I must know. I carry the responsibility of this household when the earl my husband is not present. I cannot manage it weighted by ignorance.’

Pengraic flicked a glance at me before continuing, and I felt my stomach turn over. Not at the thought that he might be angry at me, or not trust me, but at the words he was now about to speak. Somehow even then I knew the horror that awaited us.

‘The sickness begins mildly enough,’ said Pengraic. ‘A feeling of malaise, then a cough. Then, a yellow phlegm expelled from the lungs.’

‘And not any phlegm,’ said Scersberie, ‘for it is not moist at all, but of a dry, furry nature.’

‘From then the sickness spreads rapidly,’ Pengraic said. ‘Once a man begins to cough the yellow phlegm, his body rapidly succumbs. Eventually, the yellow … fungus … spreads over most of his body.’

He paused. ‘And then the final horror, Adelie. This “fungus” seems composed of heat, for all too often it bursts into flame and the sufferer is burned to death in his or her sickbed.’

‘Terrible,’ said Summersete, shaking his head. ‘So many houses burned to the ground. An entire town, so I have heard, in the south of France.’

Sweet Mary, I thought. And what of all the souls burned along with the houses? Have you no thought for them?

Lady Adelie’s face was shocked, as I am sure mine was. ‘This is of the Devil!’ she said. ‘What else can explain it?’

I think she expected her husband to respond, but his eyes were downcast to his interlaced fingers in his lap and he did not speak.

‘Indeed,’ said Edmond. ‘Nothing but the Devil could be behind such horror. No one has ever seen the like.’

‘God’s mercy upon us,’ Lady Adelie murmured. ‘How is it spread? By touch? By a miasma in the air?’

‘We do not know,’ said Edmond, ‘but physicians believe that a man can be infected many weeks before any symptoms show. We had thought England safe, for there were no cases here, but it was merely that the infection had arrived weeks before any started to cough or grow the evil fungus.’

‘Or burn,’ said Summersete, and I thought he had a horrid fascination with the flames. Initially I had liked him for his youthful handsome face, but now I realised those pretty features covered a dark nature.

‘Dovre and the south-eastern villages and towns are now infected,’ said Edmond. ‘People are dying, many more are coughing up the furry phlegm. Unrest spreads.’

‘I do not doubt it,’ Lady Adelie said, making the sign of the cross over her breast. ‘Are we safe here? What can we do to protect ourselves?’

‘You are not safe,’ said Pengraic. ‘Not from the plague, not from the unrest. You and the children, and whatever of the household you wish, must depart for Pengraic Castle as shortly as you may. The Welsh Marches are isolated and safe.’

‘No!’ cried Lady Adelie. ‘I cannot! I am troubled enough with this child. I cannot undertake such a long journey back to —’

‘You must, madam,’ said Stephen, and I jumped a little at his voice, for I had almost forgot his presence. ‘You risk all — your life and that of my brothers and sisters — if you stay here.’

‘But —’ Lady Adelie began.

‘You will return to Pengraic Castle,’ said the earl. ‘It is your safe haven. Nothing, not even the plague, can leap its walls.’

‘And you?’ Lady Adelie said.

‘Pengraic will stay with me,’ said Edmond. ‘I am raising men at Oxeneford — my main party has gone there, while my queen and sons have gone north to Elesberie — and I detoured to Rosseley with your husband only to add my voice to his that you depart for Pengraic Castle.’

‘Stephen will stay with you,’ said Pengraic. ‘Edmond and I will ride with you as far as Oxeneford, and from there Stephen can escort you in a more leisurely manner to Pengraic.’

‘And what of the Welsh?’ said Lady Adelie. ‘If they think England is in disarray may not that renegade Welsh oaf who calls himself prince, Madog ap Gruffydd, lead his army on Pengraic? The castle sits on a direct route from the heart of Welsh darkness into England. Do you save me from plague only to risk me to Madog? Raife, you are sorely needed at Pengraic yourself!’

‘Madam,’ said Scersberie, ‘Madog is currently in the north of Wales. I shall need to deal with him, if any.’

‘Your words speak your doubt for our son’s abilities,’ said Pengraic. ‘Stephen is well enough the knight and castellan to keep you safe at Pengraic. And he has the garrison commander there to aid him. Ralph d’Avranches comes from a long line of Marcher Lords, both in this land and in our homelands of Normandy. He could hold a castle against the forces of the Devil himself.

‘Where is your courage, Adelie?’ Pengraic finished. ‘It is not for you to be so fearful.’

‘I fear for my children,’ Lady Adelie said softly. ‘And for this child I carry. But … I shall do as you wish, my lords. Maeb? Will you fetch Yvette? I think I shall need to rest.’

I nodded, rising and starting for the door, my mind whirling with everything I had heard.

‘Maeb.’

It was Pengraic, and I turned back to the group.

‘Remember your oath that you should not speak of what you have heard in this room. If fear spreads, then you endanger your lady’s life.’

‘I shall remember, my lord. I will not speak of it.’

With that, I left the solar and sought out Mistress Yvette.

Of what they spoke when I had gone I do not know.

CHAPTER SIX

I found Yvette and she went to Lady Adelie.

I stood for a little time in the courtyard where I had found Yvette in yet another deep conversation with William, and watched the bustle about me. It was clear that Pengraic had not waited for his wife’s approval before ordering preparations for departure. Men loaded carts with provisions, as also with chests from the house. I wondered if I were to go with the Lady Adelie, or if I should find myself homeless again.

My question was answered as soon as I returned to the children’s chamber. Evelyn was fussing about, packing linens into a deep chest.

‘We are to leave!’ she said to me as I entered. ‘William sent a man to tell us to pack. Ah, to Pengraic at this time of year. I am sure my lady is none too pleased. Maeb, what has happened? What did you hear?’

‘I may not speak of it, Evelyn. I am sorry.’

‘But we are to leave for Pengraic?’

‘If you have heard it, then, yes, we are.’ There was no point denying this.

‘But why? My lady is with child, and not well. It is a long and arduous journey and … ah, you may not speak of it. I know.’

Evelyn stopped, and sighed. ‘Well, at least we shall dine with the king tonight. A small reward for all this mayhem. Maeb, you have yet to witness such an event, yes? Then you shall enjoy yourself this evening. Whatever else awaits, you may say that at least you dined with the king. Now, come help me with these linens … and do you know where lie Alice’s and Emmette’s mantles? I cannot find them anywhere.’

England might be gripped by plague, and the Pengraic house might be in turmoil, but even so, it seemed nothing would stop the steward and Lady Adelie entertaining the king as they believed fitting. The great hall on the ground floor had been opened up, benches and trestle tables moved in, the great banners and tapestries rehung from beams and on walls, the fires lit, and I was, indeed, to dine with the king.

Nothing in Lady Adelie’s household had prepared me for this. As the evening drew in, Evelyn and I left the two youngest children in the care of their nurse while she and I, together with Alice, Emmette and the twin boys, washed and prepared ourselves for the evening’s feast. I had nothing suitable to wear, but Mistress Yvette, in a moment she spared us from her dressing of Lady Adelie, generously offered me one of her kirtles, a lovely spring-green linen garment, adorned with crimson ribbons and embroideries.

‘It is so beautiful!’ I said as I smoothed it down over my hips.

‘And it suits your black hair,’ said Evelyn, ‘and reflects the green of your eyes.’

Despite everything I had heard this day, and the upheaval of the entire household, I shall admit I was more than a little excited at this evening’s entertainments. I had never worn such a rich gown, nor thought I would ever attend a court where a king should be present.

There would not be many women attending — Lady Adelie, Mistress Yvette, and Evelyn only; myself, and the two elder Pengraic girls still at home. There would be no gaggle of painted court beauties, or a bevy of titled ladies. All courtly attention would be on our small group.

I wondered if I would attract any admiring eyes. I fingered one of my heavy braids, shifting it this way and that across my breasts, pleased with the effect of my black hair against the green and scarlet.

Evelyn came over, and I remarked that she had not veiled her head as she was wont to do.

‘There will be no veils among the womenfolk tonight, Maeb. It is the new fashion to wear hair unadorned, save for flowers or jewels, at courtly events. Even married women go without their veils.

‘And the unmarried … Maeb, why not wear your hair loose tonight? It will be all wavy from the braiding, and it must surely reach all the way down to your knees. You have such lovely hair … you do not need to lengthen it with the horsehair that some women require. Tonight you can shine in all your womanly glory, eh? Enough to catch the eye of one of the king’s gentle retainers? A youthful knight, or even a baron?’

‘Sweet Jesu, Evelyn, you shall have me married before the morn!’

She laughed. ‘Ah, come now, Maeb. Here now, it is all loosened. We shall brush it … and I have just the thing for your brow, this circlet of ribbon and waxen flowers that Lady Adelie once gave to me. There. Done. You shall be beautiful for tonight, and for one evening forget whatever worries you heard earlier. Now, let’s see if Alice has managed to dress Emmette’s hair, or if we shall have to do it ourselves.’

There was a small looking glass in the chamber, and as Evelyn turned to Alice and Emmette, I stole a glance in its reflection.

I hardly recognised myself. The excitement had put a sparkle in my eyes, and the richness of the verdant green gown, and the unaccustomed sight of my hair unbound and tumbling about my shoulders and back, made me look almost the wood dryad. I bit my lips a little to make them redden and, checking quickly to make sure Evelyn was not watching, pinched my cheeks to colour them, too.

For that moment, the plague and the journey ahead was all lost in my anticipation. I forgot even my humiliation of earlier, and looked forward only to an evening that a few weeks ago I could not ever have imagined myself attending.

My night would be full of earls and kings and feasting. I thought of Stephen, too, and wondered what he would make of me now.

I remembered the jest he made of his bedchamber on that day I had first arrived at Rosseley, and suddenly I had no need of pinching to make my cheeks colour.

I put down the looking glass, and turned to where Evelyn fussed over the girls, and smiled.

Tonight I would enjoy, and tomorrow I would fear.

I had not previously entered the great hall of Rosseley Manor. Its doors were always closed, and there had been no reason for me to go inside. My world had been completely bounded by Lady Adelie and her children — not the larger world of men and court of which I’d only had tantalising glimpses.

So on this night, when I entered, I stopped and just looked.

I had never seen a chamber so huge, not even that of a church! I knew that the hall ran a great distance from seeing its outer walls, but even so, nothing had prepared me for its size once I entered it.

Now I understood why the stairs from the ground floor to the upper level wound up and up for an eternity — they had to somehow surmount the height of the hall’s panelled ceiling.

The hall ran back from its entrance doors to an enormous fireplace in its far wall. Before that fireplace — ablaze even on this warm spring night — sat a raised dais with a long table heavy with patterned silken damasks and linens. The light from both the fire and the scores of torches and candles about made the silver and golden plate and cups and pitchers atop the table glint with a rosy light.

I had never seen … I had never comprehended such riches!

I knew this all came from the earl’s household store, for I’d overheard William on the stairs earlier, handing a key to an armed servant that the plate might be unlocked for the night.

If an earl commanded such wealth, then what might the king’s court reveal?

‘Maeb.’

Evelyn’s voice broke into my awed reverie, and I hastily moved aside at her gentle tug on my hand. We walked to one side of the hall — two long tables ran down the length of the hall, as if they were pillars supporting the cross beam of the high table — and allowed one of the servants to lead us to our places. We were by ourselves now, for we had handed over Alice, Emmette, Ancel and Robert to Mistress Yvette so they could enter with their parents, and the two younger children were with the nurse. Mistress Yvette would stay close to Lady Adelie for the evening, so Evelyn and myself had little to do but enjoy ourselves, with no duties to perform.

The two long tables were already almost full of diners. There were no other women present save for Evelyn and myself — Lady Adelie, Mistress Yvette and the two girls had yet to make their entrance — and we attracted many a glance as we moved closer to the high table.

The glances were admiring and speculative both, and I lowered my eyes that I might not meet any of their interest. I flattered myself that many of those glances were directed at me, but I knew that Evelyn must also garner her share of admiration, for she was still young enough to rouse lust in a man, and looked very fine tonight in her deep red gown and her glistening nut-brown hair heavily braided with blue and silver beads.

Evelyn — usually — wore the veil of the married woman, but was she widowed? Or as yet unwed and only wore the veil as acknowledgement of her rank and age? She had never talked of a husband to me in our nightly chats, and in fact avoided revealing too much personal information at all. I resolved to delve a little this night, if I had the chance.

We arrived at our places, only five or six down from the high table, and Evelyn graciously thanked the servant who bowed and left us to seat ourselves. We were lucky to have a bench of our own, and as we slid into place I was careful not to catch the table linens and tip all the tableware to the ground.

Tonight, I was determined that I should be worthy of my place in this court.

Our tableware, though fine, was not of the beauty of the high table. Pewter bowls held water for us to wash our fingers, and wine cups of similar nature sat before us. There were some pewter spoons on the table, but mostly we would use our fingers or the small personal knives that all carried at belts or girdles. At least my knife would not disgrace me, I thought, fingering it gently as it swung from my girdle, for it was of good craftsmanship — one of the few things I’d had from my childhood that was of any worth.

A servant appeared at our elbows, and filled our cups with a spiced wine.

I took a sip, and marvelled at its headiness. I would need to be careful not to sip too enthusiastically.

‘Sweet mistress,’ said the man immediately on my left, ‘may I ask your name? I have been to the earl’s court on many an occasion, but have not seen you previously.’

I turned to look at him, wondering how I should respond. He was a man of younger years, fair of hair and with an open friendly face, well dressed in a heavily embroidered russet tunic with a fine white linen shirt beneath. He wore several gold rings, set with gems, on his fingers, and a small hoop through one ear.

‘I am Mistress Maeb Langtofte, and I serve the Lady Adelie. Are you with the king’s retinue? Forgive my ignorance, but I do not yet know even all the earl’s retinue, let alone the king’s.’

‘I think any man could find it easy to forgive you anything,’ the man said, ‘for it is rare to find such beauty without a jealous husband attached to her arm. You must be new arrived at the earl’s house, yes? Otherwise I cannot imagine how you yet remain unwed. I swear, within the six month, a score of gallant knights and barons shall beg the earl for your hand.’

I was growing uncomfortable now, for I was not used to such direct conversation nor such admiration. The man also had not yet given me his name, and I did not know if perchance I spoke with one of the king’s younger brothers, or one of his lords, or if he was one of the earl’s men and sent here to test me. He could just as likely have been attached to either Summersete or Scersberie, and I was at a loss as to how to address him.

The man’s blue eyes twinkled, and I knew he sensed my discomfort.

‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I am Ranulph Saint-Valery, and I hail from Lincolescire. Edmond amuses himself by keeping me within his court, but for what reason, I do not know, for I cannot think I serve one single useful earthly purpose.’

I smiled, thinking it would not be hard to like this man.

‘But for tonight, lovely lady,’ Saint-Valery continued, ‘I shall be your servant, and shall serve you the most delicate morsels from my plate and wipe the lip of your cup with my napkin, that your wine may always taste sweet.’

Now I was blushing, for I had never before encountered such courtliness, nor such attention.

Fortunately Evelyn came to my rescue as I struggled to make some light, witty remark.