William likes the quality of the work... And the woman.

William waved at her to continue her work. "No... Please continue. No need to courtesy every time you see me." He gestured towards the bench seat. "May I?"

"Oh. First, let me clear some space for you."

"No need."

"But..."

"Continue to work." William pushed aside the strips of material before sitting on the bench. "Just imagine I'm not here."

"I'll do my best."

"I hope you don't mind, I was unsure whether I can trust my chamberlain's judgment on this issue... So I thought it best to inspect the work myself."

"It's your right, but I'm afraid little is done so far."

"I understand. I'm not here to add haste." William smiled as he watched Beatrice shivering while doing her best to weave. "Are you cold?"

"No."

"Then why do you shake like an autumnal leaf. You look ready to fall."

"Forgive me." Beatrice dropped the bobbin but left it to hang by its thread. She felt deafened by the sound of pressure waves in her ears. "I'm not used to such company."

"I'm just like any other man."

"My Liege, why do you mock me with such words?"

"I do not intend to mock you. Quite the opposite. I..." William felt his tongue become heavy. "In the great hall I saw you writing and calculating. You seem very educated for a... for a..."

"A peasant?"

"I was going to say woman."

"My Liege."

"My words might be clumsy but they are true." William fingered his neatly trimmed beard the way he always did when he felt stressed. "That's why I admire you. You're one of the few women I know with their own trade. I respect your determination to succeed." He let out a sigh which escaped louder than he expected. "For what it's worth, from what I have seen, I'm sure you will thrive."

"Thank you, but only plague doctors thrive in these parts."

"You're a survivor. Plus, your education will see you through."

"Mother Agnes educated many children at the abbey. I was fortunate to be one of them. So were Matilda and Peter."

"She sounds like a good woman."

Beatrice smiled while reminiscing the times shared with her old role model. But after a moment the smile was replaced by a sigh. "The plague took her as well. It seems that even God could not protect one of his own from the ghastly plague."

"The plague seems to have robbed you of everyone you loved."

"It did. They say God has a plan for everyone. I'm still thinking what it is he has in stall for me."

"This fine trade is your calling. Name me a woman who has such a business, unless it's a whorehouse?"

Beatrice could not think, her mind felt nothing but a blank canvas. "I..."

"Of course you can't. You're already very successful."

"Thank you." Beatrice ran her fingers down the back of her neck. "But what's the point if I have no one to share it with?"

"You need to lighten your soul. It's weighed down with much sadness and worry. What do you do for pleasure?"

"Work. There is little pleasure in this life beside my loom."

"That I do not doubt. But what makes you laugh?"

Beatrice's face lit up. "I do like a good pig chase."

"Pig chase? Really? Like those fools who wrestle pigs on the moat lawn?"

"Yes."

Despite his distaste for this primitive sport, William felt intrigued by Beatrice's enthusiasm for the pastime. "Then when is the next one? I need to know what you English see in this vulgar activity."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want to see this wonderful smile of yours more often."

A tint of rose coloured Beatrice's fulsome cheeks. "My Liege, you alight my face with blushes."

"Beatrice. I wish to attend a pig chase with you."

"They are held on market Fridays...just after mid-day."

"Great." William swung his gloved fist in front of his chest. "Friday it is then. Now I must go. I can't leave Peter alone in the castle for more than an hour." He shook his head, while breathing a sigh. "Peter gets above his position and starts asking the kitchen staff to call him King." The fact Beatrice giggled at his joke made William feel warm inside. "Good day to you, young lady."

~

Beatrice felt lightheaded as she weaved. She grew angry with herself because of her lack of focus. But it was no use, all she could think of was William. The door creaked causing Beatrice to turn and smile as Matilda stepped in off the street, while carrying a basket of bread. "He was here."

"Who? Peter the turd?"

"No. The Baron."

Matilda felt confused. "Really?" She placed the basket on the table and then broke the crust from the loaf. "I thought Peter was the Baron's messenger."

"No, the Baron was here in person. I have the feeling he likes me, Matilda."

"Don't fall under his spell. Normans make the most cruel and wicked men. He'll use you and throw you to the hounds, just watch."

Beatrice opened a small cupboard and lifted out a parcel. She unwrapped the cloth to reveal a lump of mouldy cheese. "But he talks to me... talks to me as an equal."

"That may be. But he is Norman. Normans are not to be trusted."

"I know... but..."

"Don't forget they have no respect for us. None at all."

Beatrice felt stressed and wanted to strop like a young lovesick girl. "He seems different, Matilda. Warm and friendly. He's even meeting me on Friday."

"Straight to his chamber to have his way. Don't doubt my words."

"No, he's meeting me in public. At the pig chase."

Matilda slammed the knife through the cheese. "What do you possess that he would be interested in? Tell me."

"I don't know."

"What can you offer him that he hasn't already got? And if you say your tapestries, I'll roll one up and beat you around the head with it."

"Maybe he likes me."

Matilda spoke with her mouth full of cheese and bread. "All he likes about you is your beauty, Beatrice." She then gulped down her morsel. "He wants to see your nakedness and have his evil way with it."

"I think you're just jealous. I'm going to be a prude and make him treat me like a lady. Just you watch!"

"A peasant making a Baron treat her with respect... Good luck with that."

"You'll see." Beatrice snatched the cheese from Matilda. "Now, stop hogging the cheese, Ten Bellies."