Free An Honourable Estate by Elizabeth Ashworth Page A

feed if it didn’t manage to fill itself with
vermin.  But the scratching came again and Mabel became aware that it was
someone or something at the back door.  With a glance at the girls, who
had all stopped eating and were staring anxiously in the direction of the sound,
Mabel called out, “Who’s there?”
    “It’s me, my lady, Ned Kemp.”
    Mabel scraped back the door.  “Come in,” she bade him,
taking in the split lip that was turning purple and the swelling to one side of
his forehead.  “Do you have news of Sir William?” she asked eagerly. 
    Her hopes fell as she watched him look down at his filthy
boots and shuffle his feet slightly.
    “Come and sit down,” she said trying to ease his
discomfort.  “Have something to eat.  Fetch a bowl of stew,” she said
to Edith. And as she turned to do as she was bid, Mabel ached for the girl
whose father was also missing. “Have you any news?” she asked the man.
    “I saw Wistan Bennett killed.  I have to go and tell his
wife.”
    “Eat first,” said Mabel as Edith put the bowl down in front
of him.  Ned needed no further urging as he took up the spoon and ate
eagerly, mopping the dregs with a piece of bread still hot from the oven. 
Mabel poured a generous cup of ale and handed it to him.
    “Thank you, my lady.  Tis two days since I ate anything
at all,” he said.  “The sheriff has his men searching the countryside for
those who managed to flee the battle.”
    “I know.  He has been here this morning seeking Sir
William.  Have you any news of my husband?” she asked him again.
    “I do not know what became of him, my lady,” Ned told
her.  “We won the first battle at Preston, but Edmund Neville arrived
later the same day with a force that far outnumbered ours.  We were
already tired and many of the men had been celebrating the earlier
victory.  We were taken unawares and when a second force hit us side on
many men were lost in the melee.  I fought for as long as I could, but
then Banastre bid us all run for our lives and I needed no urging.”  Mabel
watched as he took another drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.  “I
saw Bennett cut to pieces before my eyes and I fled.  I don’t know if Sir
William survived, though I cannot say with certainty that he is dead.”
    The man looked up and Mabel tried to smile.  “Then
perhaps we should not give up hope just yet.  Did you see Harry Palmer?”
she asked, glancing across at Edith.  Ned shook his head.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “No,” said Mabel. “I am sorry that it has come to this. 
Please know that I am grateful to you for standing by my husband in this
ill-conceived endeavour.  Go home to your wife,” she told him.  “She
will be overjoyed to see you safe.”  But not so Avril Bennett, she
thought, or her three young children.
    That afternoon Mabel left her own children in Edith’s care
and walked to the church at Wigan to pray.  The stone walls shrouded her in
cold as she looked around at the squalid remnants of the army’s camp, shocked
that they had so defiled the house of God.  Brushing aside a moulding
trencher of bread she knelt before the chancel steps and her quiet voice echoed
around the empty building as she prayed aloud the pater noster.
    As she knelt, lost in grief and despair she saw a form move
towards her and almost cried out her husband’s name until she blinked back her
tears and recognised the priest, Father Robert.
    “Father, will you hear my confession?”
    “Bless you my child.  What sins have you to confess?”
    “Mostly lack of faith, Father.  I pray that my husband
is safe, but God does not answer me and I fear He has deserted me in my time of
need.”
    “God will grant you the strength you need to face each day,”
said Father Robert gently.  “But He will not grant your every wish. 
We mere mortals cannot hope to understand the plans He has for this world and
for us.  We can only trust that He loves us.”
    “But surely it