Lora dropped her eyes demurely, before deciding to abandon pretense and still holding Anne’s hand looked her in the eye and said with a small smile, “You’re right. What do you suggest?”
Uncomfortable at leaning forward, Anne let go of Lora’s hand and sat back into her padded chair. “I’m by no means an expert, but to get a man’s full attention you need to grab him by the short-handle. Depending on how forward you might want to be, you could be naked in his bed waiting for him tonight. He’ll get the message then. You might like to be a little more subtle and invite him to share the hot-tub in the bath-house. Or you can be more subtle still and ask him to take you for a walk, hold his hand and give him a few kisses. Men tend to be slow of intellect, but even that would probably work- but without immediate results and would be less fun.”
“Which did you use?” asked Lora.
Anne paused and gave a sigh. “The affairs of the ‘high and mighty’ are more difficult. I married Aelfric the thegn of Wivenhoe when I was fifteen. He was fairly old, thirty-five or so. His previous wife had died and he had no children. My father was, and is, a wealthy merchant in Ipswich, and had just become thegn-worthy. He thought it would be beneficial to me if I improved my station, so he was happy to receive the offer from Aelfric. My father thought that Aelfric may want to dip his hands in his purse occasionally but was prepared to live with that. I only met Aelfric twice before the marriage, with him coming to Ipswich. He seemed nice enough. A little rough in manner, but what do you expect from a country thegn?”
Anne was now staring into the distance, hands clenching and unclenching in her lap. She wasn’t talking to Lora anymore, but to herself and experiencing past demons. “Unfortunately, I very soon found out he was a whore-mongering, cheating, drunken gambler- and a poor gambler at that. A man who cowardly beat those in his power who couldn’t protect themselves; me, the servants and the villagers. Less than a week after our marriage day I had the shame to have to appear in the Hall at Wivenhoe with my face bruised and a black eye while my lord was rutting like a pig in the next room with a wench from the village. Within a month he had gambled his way through the cash part of my dowry. I’d hidden my jewellery and he beat me repeatedly to try to get my to hand it over. Fortunately he was killed at Stamford Bridge before he gave me physical scars to match my mental scars. I suspect, knowing him, he would have died from a sword in the back as he ran away.” Anne sighed again.
With a frown, because a young maid wanting to attract a husband found such stories disturbing, Lora asked, “And Sir Alan?”
Anne’s face lightened and she gave a smile. “He’s as different as can be. He was nineteen and I woke up to find myself naked in his bed,” she said with reminiscence. She laughed at the startled look on Lora’s face. “I always say that to tease people, although it’s true. I’d been riding through the forest near Alresford, well-escorted I’d thought. We were set upon by a band of robbers in ambush, and all but my maid Bathilda were killed, and she was ravaged. I had been thrown from my horse and was unconscious. Alan killed the men about to ravish me and brought me back here, to the Old Hall where he was then living as he’d only just started to build this palace. He tended to my wounds. That is another story in itself. I had a badly broken leg, broken ribs and a deep cut to my thigh from when I was thrown by the horse. Alan does now admit that I could have traveled some time before he finally gave approval for me to go home, and that perhaps he didn’t need to inspect my ribs and leg as oft as he did.” She smiled again at the memory. “I hated to be confined and made his life hell, even though he treated and dosed me and read to me, and let me read his books. A very educated man is my lord. He probably has more books in his personal library than the king.”
“And you fell in love with him?” asked Lora.
Anne sighed and then gave the other girl a quick smile. “Nothing is ever that simple. He’d taken care, with the greatest of respect, to make his interest in me known. I was rude and unresponsive both before and after I returned home, giving little thanks for my deliverance. I’d just escaped a very unpleasant marriage and for the first time in my life was in charge of myself and what was going on around me. I enjoyed being the lady of the manor at Wivenhoe, running the estate and dealing with all the problems and decisions. Aelfric had refused to even let me chose dinner and kept the purse-strings tight in his own hand. No, Alan saved me twice more. The first was when the Danes landed at Wivenhoe in the year ’67. Alan led a small force that defeated the much larger contingent of Danes, who’d laid waste to much of Lexden Hundred- looting, murdering men women and children, raping and torturing and taking away men and women for slaves. He had just a handful of trained men and a bunch of farmers wielding pitchforks and sharpened sticks. What happened a few weeks ago was child’s-play in comparison.
“By then I was resisting mainly out of contrariness. What finally made up my mind was when the sheriff tried to take Wivenhoe from me. I never did locate the landboc. I was to be forced to marry a man of the sheriff’s choice, or lose my land. Marrying would of course mean that my land would be owned by my new husband anyway. Having to marry, I made my own choice, with no regrets at all. My only difficulty was that his bed was already occupied, so I had to take some… forthright… action to put myself in there in place of Edith,” completed Anne.
“You have a husband of many parts,” commented Lora.
“And some of them more useful than others,” said Anne with a saucy smile. “Seriously, the Benedictine’s loss of the services of Sir Alan is our gain. Another failed monk, like Osmund.” She paused before continuing, “No, not ‘failed’- both found that the path for their life didn’t lie in a monastery.”
“Why did they leave?” queried Lora.
“In Alan’s case he tells me it was for whoring. He was found in the bed of a noviate nun, although he says that he was always in trouble before that. From what I hear of Osmund that in his case it was because he asked too many questions and didn’t respect authority if he felt that the man didn’t deserve respect.” Anne reached forward and patted Lora’s hand. “You’ll do alright with Osmund. He’s gentle, thoughtful and loyal. All the qualities you want in a husband- or a dog! He also has a good position and a moderate estate, is young and not at all ill-favoured in appearance. You’ll be able to train him well enough. The only problem you may have with him is that he’ll be so intent on his work and his books that he’ll overlook you. But that can soon be remedied by use of a firm grasp on his short-handle! Now, judging by the hubbub downstairs, the mid-day meal is about to be served and we had best join the others.”
Indeed, downstairs the tables had been set up and most of the household were either seated or gravitating to the tables. Alan was there, hot and sweaty and with his old brown woolen tunic and trews streaked with the semi-liquid animal fat used to lubricate the catapults. Anne endured with equanimity a ten-minute diatribe from Alan as to the problems he had experienced and in particular the problems with the crews’ attitude to training. It wasn’t her problem and her input was not expected, but it made Alan feel better to let off steam.
Lora was sitting next to Osmund and had asked him how his work was progressing, nodding and pretending interest. After a tasty but relatively simple meal of pork pies and braised chicken with herbs, with two dishes of braised vegetables followed by cheese and fruit, Anne suggested to Alan that they share the hot-tub for a relaxing bath, which offer he accepted with alacrity. Anne gave Lora a slight wink. Lora then asked Osmund whether he could show her the spring and pool just inside the forest, to which Osmund with a slightly surprised expression agreed readily enough.