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Chapter Four

Jane stiffened and stared across the room to the door of the workroom as if in a trance. No, no, no! she thought, hoping her face had not changed colour. ‘How is it that Sir Gawain has involved himself in my business?’ she cried, scowling.

‘Presumably Rebecca wrote to his wife about your need for a weaver. They are numerous in that part of Kent.’

‘Of course, that will be it! Beth and Rebecca will want to help me,’ she said, wishing they had not interfered. Slowly she walked over to the table and placed the bread and jug of ale down, hoping against hope that Willem had not mentioned to anyone what they had once been to each other.

‘His name is Flemish, quite a coincidence, considering I’ve not long returned from that country,’ said Nicholas.

‘Aye, but there are any number of Flemish weavers and brewers in England these days,’ she said brightly.

‘I would not deny it,’ said Nicholas, his gaze intent on her face. ‘Even so, perhaps you’d like me to speak to Master Godar on your behalf? He’s made himself very much at home, which I found irritating. Apparently he knows Witney, having visited here in the past.’

‘Most likely he came to one of the fairs,’ said Jane hastily. The last thing she wanted was Nicholas present when she confronted Willem. ‘I will speak to him myself. It could be that I will remember him when we come face-to-face.’

‘If that’s what you wish,’ said Nicholas politely.

She could tell he was disappointed by her answer. Oh, why did Willem have to arrive now, making her life even more complicated than it was already? She glanced at the door to the workroom, which had been left slightly ajar. The clacking of the loom was momentarily silenced and she could hear Margaret talking to Willem. Pray God he did not say anything amiss to her.