The Adventurer's Bride. June Francis

give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘Forgive me! For a moment I forgot that you had promised to be Simon’s godfather,’ she said humbly. ‘What happened to the wet nurse?’

      ‘I deem Berthe must have betrayed me,’ he said bitterly. ‘She was in league with those men who attacked me. As I made my escape I heard her and another woman crying out, “Stop him. He’s got the child. Stop him!”’

      Jane’s head jerked up. ‘Why should she do such a thing? Do you think she was put up to it by the child’s mother?’

      Nicholas sighed, removed his sodden felt hat and fingered where his head hurt. ‘Louise is dead,’ he said heavily. ‘Matilda has no mother.’

      Jane could only stare at him. ‘I see. I didn’t know Louise had died,’ she said slowly.

      ‘Why should you? It isn’t easy to get a message to someone from abroad, especially during the winter months. Even my brothers were unaware of it. When I visited Christopher, he told me to my face that he considered me a fool for taking responsibility for Matilda.’ Nicholas turned the hat between his hands restlessly and then dropped it on the floor and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. ‘Louise died a couple of days after the birth and she wanted me to have Matilda. I had already decided on that course of action after seeing at close hand what can happen when a daughter is fobbed off as another man’s or placed with relatives who have no love for it. That was why I went in search of Louise.’

      Before Jane could respond, there was a sound at the front door and Margaret entered with a homely-looking woman wearing a cloak over a brown gown. She stared at Nicholas with a lively curiosity in her large round eyes. ‘So you’re the famous explorer,’ she said. ‘I’ve been hearing about you off and on for the past few weeks.’ She folded her arms across her ample bosom. ‘About time you arrived—they’ve all been on pins in this house, thinking you mightn’t get here in time for Our Lady’s day.’ She paused for breath.

      ‘Where is Matt?’ asked Jane swiftly.

      ‘He will be here soon,’ replied Anna and continued with her former dialogue with Nicholas. ‘And now you have come, what’s this I hear about you not only being attacked but that you’ve brought a babe with you that needs suckling?’

      Jane said hastily, ‘Dear Anna, do not be bothering Master Hurst about such matters now. He is wounded and exhausted and much concerned for his daughter. Here, take the child! I will see that you are paid later.’ She thrust Matilda at the wet nurse without waiting to see Nicholas’s reaction to the woman who was temporarily to act as mother to his daughter. No doubt the news of Nicholas’s arrival would soon be all over Witney. Anna’s husband was the local baker and as much of a gossip as his wife. Would the information be spread abroad beyond the town and reach not only the men who had tried to kill him, but also the women who appeared to want the child? It was a puzzle to her.

      From a chest Jane took a couple of handfuls of linen bindings and wrapped them in a drying cloth before tucking them under Anna’s arm. She wasted no time in seeing the wet nurse out. Then she picked up a candlestick and brought it over to where Nicholas was seated, thinking she would need more light if she was to attend to his wound.

      ‘I hope my actions meet with your approval where your daughter is concerned,’ she said briskly. ‘Do not mind Anna’s tongue. She has a warm heart and, for now, abundant milk. I can reassure you that she is clean and extremely fond of babies, otherwise I would not trust Simon to her.’

      ‘I will take your word for it,’ he said, attempting a smile despite his exhaustion.

      ‘I have known her for years,’ said Jane, bending over him. ‘We were girls together when I lived here in Witney with my parents and brother.’ She paused. ‘Now shall we remove your doublet so I can take a look at your wound? Did those ruffians rob you at all?’

      ‘No, they did not get the opportunity.’ His dark reddish-gold brows knit. ‘Although, perhaps I should have not been so trusting of Berthe. My coin pouch was of late within easy reach of her fingers.’

      Jane glanced at the girdle she had laid to one side earlier and crossed to where she had placed it. She picked it up and handed it to him. ‘Do you wish to count the coin?’

      He weighed the pouch in his hand. ‘It is a little lighter than I remember and I did not feel a thing. Fortunately I soon learnt whilst on my travels that it is always wise to have another stash of money concealed somewhere else.’

      ‘You don’t think she knew where that was?’ asked Jane, wondering how he had come by this wet nurse who was obviously untrustworthy.

      ‘No,’ he said confidently.

      Jane was glad of that, for she had little coin to spare to pay Anna extra and for any other expenses Nicholas’s sojourn here in Witney might involve. She wondered how long he would stay now there was the worry of the attack on him to take into account. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she continued with the task of removing his doublet without causing him too much pain.

      Once rid of the garment she was able to see more clearly that his fine woollen shirt was more bloodstained than the doublet and that it was unravelling. Obviously the weapon’s blade had caught a thread and snapped it. Her heart was in her mouth as she attempted to separate the patch of shirt that was stuck to the wound, for she could feel the tension within him. She decided that it was best if she dampened the fabric and fortunately that did the trick. At last she managed to ease the fabric away to reveal the gash in his flesh into which bits of wool and dirt had been forced. By then he was breathing heavily and his face had changed colour. As for her, the inside of her cheek was raw from chewing on it.

      She whispered an apology as she removed the shirt. Now his chest was completely exposed, she could see the scars he had incurred from previous encounters with foes. She felt an unexpected urge not only to wrap her arms around him, but to scold him.

      ‘How many times have you come close to death?’ she muttered, straightening up with his shirt clenched in her hand. ‘I know of some of your adventures, but not that you had been injured so often.’

      ‘I survived and that is all that matters,’ he growled.

      ‘Hopefully you will survive this latest attack on you,’ she said tautly before hurrying over to a shelf and removing a bottle of wine from it.

      ‘Can I help, Mama?’ asked Elizabeth, hovering about her.

      ‘Fetch me some linen bindings from the chest and another clean rag,’ said Jane.

      The girl did so and received further orders concerning the supper this time. She went about her tasks as Jane gave Nicholas all her attention once more.

      ‘Do you have any brandy?’ he asked in a strained voice, watching her uncork the wine and pour some into a small bowl.

      ‘Aye, as it happens Rebecca’s father enjoys the finest French brandy. He brought a couple of bottles when he visited me the other week. Now keep still. I will fetch the brandy in a moment.’

      She tipped the cup carefully and watched the elderflower wine that she had made herself the other year wash over the wound just beneath his collarbone. She was aware of the mingling smells of sandalwood, blood, dried sweat and wine and that he gritted his teeth as she swabbed the wound with a clean rag.

      ‘I am sorry if I’m hurting you,’ she said hastily. Curling strands of her light brown hair that had escaped from beneath her cap brushed his chin as she lowered her head further.

      Nicholas breathed in the scent of camomile and guessed she washed her hair in water perfumed by the dried flower heads. His thoughts drifted back to his boyhood when he had visited his godparents. Sir Jasper had been a prosperous wine merchant with a house in Bristol and another in the countryside a few miles from the port. He remembered a meadow being covered in camomile daisies.

      ‘Do you see much of Anthony Mortimer?’ he asked.

      Jane moved away and considered her answer as she took a small jar from the stool nearby. ‘A fair