“Oh, God save us.” Philippa looked distressed. “Ralph is an animal, a pig, a wild boar. I knew he should never have been made a lord. I told my father-in-law not to promote him.”
“A pity the earl didn’t follow your advice.”
“And I suppose the fiance wants justice.”
Gwenda hesitated. She was not sure how much of the complicated story to tell. But she sensed it would be a mistake to hold anything back. “Annet is married, lady, but to a different man.”
“So what lucky girl got Mr Handsome?”
“As it happens, Wulfric married me.”
“Congratulations.”
“Though Wulfric is here, with Annet’s husband, to bear witness.”
Philippa gave Gwenda a sharp look, and seemed about to comment, then changed her mind. “So why have you come here? Wigleigh is not in my husband’s territory.”
“The incident happened in the forest, and the earl says it was on Lord William’s land, so he can’t adjudicate.”
“That’s an excuse. Roland adjudicates anything he likes. He just doesn’t want to punish a man he’s recently elevated.”
“Anyway, our village priest is here to tell Lord William what happened.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“You’re a woman, you understand. You know how men make excuses for rape. They say the girl must have been flirting, or doing something provocative.”
“Yes.”
“If Ralph gets away with this, he might do it again – perhaps to me.”
“Or me,” said Philippa. “You should see the way he stares at me – like a dog looking at a goose on the pond.”
That was encouraging. “Perhaps you can make Lord William understand how important it is that Ralph should not get away with this.”
Philippa nodded. “I think I can.”
Sammy had stopped sucking and gone to sleep. Gwenda stood up. “Thank you, lady.”
“I’m glad you came to me,” said Philippa.
Lord William summoned them the next morning. They met with him in the great hall. Gwenda was glad to see Lady Philippa sitting beside him. She gave Gwenda a friendly look, and Gwenda hoped that meant she had spoken to her husband.
William was tall and black-haired, like his father the earl, but he was going bald, and the dome above the dark beard and eyebrows suggested a more thoughtful kind of authority, matching his reputation. He examined the bloodstained dress and looked at Annet’s bruises, which were blue now, rather than the original angry red. All the same, they brought a look of fury to Lady Philippa’s face. Gwenda guessed it was not so much the severity of the injuries as the grim picture they conjured up of a brawny squire kneeling on a girl’s arms to hold her down while another man raped her.
“Well, you’ve done everything correctly so far,” William said to Annet. “You went immediately to the nearest village, you showed your injuries to men of good reputation there, and you named your attacker. Now you have to offer a bill to a justice of the peace in the Shiring County Court.”
She looked anxious. “What does that mean?”
“A bill is an accusation, written in Latin.”
“I can’t write English, lord, let alone Latin.”
“Father Gaspard can do it for you. The justice will put the bill before an indicting jury, and you will tell them what happened. Can you do that? They may ask for embarrassing details.”
Annet nodded determinedly.
“If they believe you, they will order the sheriff to summon Lord Ralph to the court a month later to be tried. Then you will need two sureties, people who will pledge a sum of money to guarantee that you will appear at the trial.”
“But who will be my sureties?”
“Father Gaspard can be one, and I will be the other. I’ll put up the money.”
“Thank you, lord!”
“Thank my wife, who has persuaded me that I can’t allow the king’s peace to be breached on my territory by an act of rape.”
Annet shot a grateful look at Philippa.
Gwenda looked at Wulfric. She had told her husband about her conversation with the lord’s wife. Now he met her eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement. He knew she had made this happen.
William went on: “At the trial, you will tell your story again. Your friends will all have to be witnesses: Gwenda will say she saw you coming from the forest in your bloodstained dress, Father Gaspard will say you told him what happened, Wulfric will say he saw Ralph and Alan riding away from the scene.”
They all nodded solemnly.
“One more thing. Having started something like this, you can’t stop it. Withdrawing an appeal is an offence, and you would be severely punished – to say nothing of what revenge Ralph might take on you.”
Annet said: “I won’t change my mind. But what will happen to Ralph? How will he be punished?”
“Oh, there’s only one penalty for rape,” said Lord William. “He’ll be hanged.”
They all slept in the great hall of the castle, with William’s servants and squires and dogs, wrapping their cloaks around them and nestling into the carpet of rushes on the floor. As the light from the embers in the huge fireplace dimmed to a glow, Gwenda hesitantly reached for her husband, putting a tentative hand on his arm, stroking the wool of his cloak. They had not made love since the rape, and she was unsure whether he wanted her or not. She had angered him grievously by tripping him up: would he feel that her intervention with Lady Philippa made up for that?
He responded immediately, drawing her to him and kissing her lips. She relaxed gratefully into his arms. They toyed with each other for a while. Gwenda was so happy she wanted to weep.
She waited for him to roll on top of her, but he did not do so. She could tell he wanted to, for he was being very affectionate, and his penis was hard in her hand; but perhaps he hesitated to do it in the company of so many others. People did have sex in halls like this, of course; it was normal, and no one took any notice. But perhaps Wulfric felt shy.
However, Gwenda was determined to seal the repair of their love, and after a while she climbed on to him, drawing her cloak over them both. As they began to move together, she saw an adolescent boy watching them, wide-eyed, a few yards away. Adults would politely look the other way, of course, but he was at the age where sex was a captivating mystery, and he obviously could not tear his gaze away. Gwenda was feeling so happy that she hardly cared. She met his eye, then smiled at him, without ceasing to move. His mouth fell open in shock, and he was struck by agonizing embarrassment. Looking mortified, he rolled over and covered his eyes with his arm.
Gwenda pulled her cloak up over her head and Wulfric’s, buried her face in his neck and gave herself up to pleasure.
37
Caris felt confident the second time she went to the royal court. The vast interior of Westminster Hall no longer intimidated her, nor did the mass of wealthy and powerful people crowding around the judges’ benches. She had been here before, she knew the ropes; everything that had seemed so strange a year ago was now familiar. She even had a dress in the London fashion, green on the right side and blue on the left. She enjoyed studying those around her and reading their lives in their faces: cocksure or desperate, bewildered or sly. She could spot people who were new to the capital by their wide-eyed gaze and their air of uncertainty, and she felt pleasantly knowledgeable and superior.
If she had any misgivings they centred on her lawyer, Francis Bookman. He was young and well informed and – like most lawyers, she thought – he seemed very sure of himself. A small man with sandy hair, quick in his movements and always ready for an argument, he made her think of a cheeky bird on a window ledge, pecking crumbs and aggressively chasing away rivals. He had told them that their case was incontrovertible.