to my father before I give you my promise.’
‘If he agrees there is a debt, will you do as I ask?’
‘If I do, the debt will be paid?’
Rosamunde felt as if she were suffocating. She had meant to escape from her cousin and beg her father’s protection, but if he owed his brother-in-law a great deal of money she was honour-bound to serve her cousin in whatever way she demanded. Indeed, she would be a bondservant and tied to Angelina until the other woman gave her leave to go. Serving her cousin as one of her ladies was one thing but to be bonded through a debt was very different.
‘Yes, of course. Have I not said so?’
‘Then I shall do what you want—providing my father admits there is a debt,’ Rosamunde reiterated.
Angelina glanced at Sir Thomas. He inclined his head and she did the same.
‘You may see your father—but remember that he is old and sick and his mind may play tricks on him. However, I have a deed that proves he owes my father more than he could ever pay.’
‘May I see it?’
‘Yes, if you wish.’ Angelina turned to Sir Thomas. He handed her a small wooden coffer bound with iron. She lifted the lid and took out a roll of parchment, handing it to Rosamunde. ‘There, look at the signature on the bottom—is that not your father’s?’
Rosamunde looked and her heart sank. It was indeed her father’s hand and the sum of money mentioned was five-hundred gold talents, far more than his land and keep were worth.
‘Yes, this is my father’s hand,’ she said, her throat dry. ‘It seems you have proof. However, I still wish to see my father.’
‘Remember what I’ve told you. If you refuse me, I shall demand payment of the debt.’
Rosamunde returned the parchment. Her eyes pricked with tears she refused to shed. ‘I shall visit my father and then I will give you my answer.’
‘Your father lies on his bed sick to the heart,’ Maire told her when she kissed her old nurse and asked for him. ‘We’ve done our best to care for him, my lady, but he eats hardly anything and will not leave his bed.’
‘I shall go up to his chamber and see him,’ Rosamunde said. ‘If he is truly ill, we must have the physician.’
‘There’s no money for such things. I bought a cure in the village from the wise woman but he refused to take it. ‘Tis my belief that he wants to die.’
Rosamunde nodded, her throat tight with tears. It seemed that her father’s financial situation had not improved while she had been away, but at least he still had a bed to lie on. If Angelina demanded the return of the loan, he would be forced to lie under the hedgerow. How long would he live then?
She saw the signs of neglect everywhere. The servants might care for her father but no repairs had been done. The yard had not been swept and it looked as though no one had changed the rushes in weeks.
The room was dark and smelled of stale urine when she entered. Rosamunde felt angry. The servants had little enough to do; they could at least keep her father clean and his room smelling sweet.
‘Who is it?’ he asked as she approached the bed. ‘I want nothing. Leave me be. How many times must I tell you to leave me in peace?’
‘It is I, Father,’ Rosamunde replied. ‘Angelina has returned to England and she gave me permission to visit you while she rests at the inn this night.’
‘Rosamunde?’ His eyes opened and he looked at her. ‘You should not be here. There is nothing left for you, child. I have wasted my fortune and there is nothing but debt. Make your life elsewhere and leave me to die.’
‘I do not wish you to die, Father. Before I leave I shall see to your bed and have the room cleaned.’
Her father pushed himself up against the pillows, looking at her warily. ‘If you’ve come to me for money I’ve none to give you. I can hardly feed the servants, let alone pay my taxes. Next time Prince John’s collector comes, he will take what little we have left, but I shall not see it. I shall be in my grave.’
‘Are you in pain, Father?’ Rosamunde bent to plump up his pillows. He shook his head. ‘Then you should try to get up and come down for your supper. It will be easier for the servants to clean if you are not here.’
‘You want me to live but there’s no hope left, child. All hope fled when she died.’
‘Mother would be so angry with you!’ Rosamunde exclaimed. ‘The servants have neglected the house and the yard. She would not have liked that, Father.’
‘I know it. She would also be angry that I sent you away to your cousin, daughter, but what else could I do? If you stay here you will end in poverty.’
‘Could we not petition the King for a pension?’
‘If Richard were home he might do something for us, but he will need money himself. His ransom has not yet been paid. I gave all I had, but I should have thought of you instead, Rosamunde.’
‘Do not worry about me, Father. Perhaps I shall find someone who will marry me.’
‘If I had a dowry for you it would give you a chance, but I have spent even that, child. Your mother would not let me while she lived, but when she died I spent it on building a tomb for her.’
‘Do not look so sad, Father.’ Rosamunde reached for his hand. ‘Tell me, why did you borrow money from my uncle? Where did it go?’
‘Where did all the money go? I wasted it on others instead of saving it for my child. Did I borrow from your uncle?’ Her father wrinkled his brow. ‘I cannot recall the debt, Rosamunde, but your mother’s brother is a good man. If he says there is a debt, it must be so. He has helped me many times and I owe him more than I could ever repay. If he asks something of you, you must oblige him for my honour’s sake.’
Rosamunde’s heart sank. She’d thought for a moment he would deny the debt, but the truth was he was too old and sick to know. He had beggared himself by his generosity and now he was ill. At least she could make sure that he died in his own bed. Angelina had promised the debt would be paid if she took her place, and she’d also promised a gift of fifty gold talents. It was a large sum of money and would feed the household here for months, as well as pay her father’s taxes.
‘Well?’ Angelina demanded when she walked into the inn bedchamber the next morning. ‘You’ve seen your father—what did he say?’
‘He does not recall the debt; he is too old and ill to know. But it does not matter if you are lying. You promised me fifty gold talents if I help you—will you keep your word?’
‘Come to me after you’ve delivered the ransom and I will pay you.’ Angelina’s eyes gleamed suddenly. ‘I shall give you my bond and seal it. It will be binding in law.’
‘Very well, I shall do as you ask,’ Rosamunde said. Her father had told her she must do all she could for her uncle for his honour and, though
