It’s no good, the wind finds every nook and cranny in this place. It’s useless trying to stuff the holes with rag, it just seems to mean the gale comes through somewhere else with greater force. Where’s it coming from now?” Hester and Lucy were huddled over a fire so meagre there was little danger of their being scorched had they sat on top of it! It was a raw November afternoon and it was already too dark to read but they were economising on light. The mean lodgings were tolerable enough when they took them in the summer and the bedding quite adequate for warm, summer nights. They were not to know that the landlady would make no concession to a change in temperature beyond the daily provision of a few logs. So long as they were not fastidious, however, there was enough to eat and plenty of cheap wine. The landladies and shopkeepers of Bruges had long since sized up the English community. It was poor. Even their King existed on little more than a token Spanish pension. Moreover, some of its members had few qualms about running up considerable debts. So, credit was given sparingly and there was no enthusiasm for such capital expenditure as extra bedding. Although these privations only slightly dampened Lucy’s youthful high spirits, they caused considerable discomfort to Hester, who felt numb and sick with cold on some days. The thought of travelling in mid-winter was so daunting, however, that she resigned herself to spending the winter in Bruges. Then, whatever the state of Lucy’s affairs, Hester was determined to return to her sister’s warm, stone house in Canterbury in the spring.
Lucy was bitterly disappointed to learn from their fellow exiles that Francis was away on a mission in Spain. There were compensations, however. For the first time, she could speak his name freely and it amused her to hear others talking about him in her presence, not knowing the secret they shared. He was expected to return before Christmas and meanwhile Lucy and Hester shared in the life of the English community. Some of its members had been away from England for many years and were out of touch with what had been happening there recently. Lucy was surprised at the picture they had of a country ground under the heels of religious fanatics. Little as she sympathised with her cousins’ religious views, she could not forbear smiling at the thought of Richard and Dorothy forcing their views on anyone and said so. The exiles’ need to paint a black picture (why else would they be in exile, for only some of them were in danger of losing their heads if they returned?) made them discount anything Lucy contributed. She was not so concerned with her cousins’ image however, to make herself unpopular by persevering with her argument.
Like all exiles, the group in Bruges suffered from frustration and the lack of anything worthwhile to do. They easily divided into factions and the resulting intrigues and quarrels became quite tedious. Survival, however, was their greatest concern. Their conversation and energies were largely devoted to schemes for raising more money. Hester and Lucy had a regular financial supply but even they suffered when there were delays and they could not produce hard cash. Talk about money did not appeal to Lucy but she did enjoy discussing fashion. Dorothy had no interest in clothes. Even Richard had more dress sense. One day he commented, “Dorothy, you always seem to wear the same dress. Shouldn’t you get something different? Like Miss Dunton has on, for instance.” Hester always dressed well. “If you think I should,” Dorothy had replied placidly and had gone off to find some old lace of her mother’s and had used it to trim the plain dark dress she usually wore. The drapers and tailors of Bruges had ceased to give credit before Lucy arrived but there were ways and means. She made a bodice for one of the English ladies out of a small brocaded table cover, which was much admired. She had a good eye for design. Her advice was sought. It was all very satisfying.
Scandal, however, dominated most conversation. Both at Stair and Stevenage Lucy found herself in circles, seething with ideas. Sometimes, it is true, the character and behaviour of the originator of the idea were talked of but always only in so far as they concerned the idea itself. Even when talking of practical, everyday household matters, Richard and Dorothy seemed to be referring to a basic set of principles. Backbiting was specifically preached against. Lucy was not interested in ideas, only in the protagonists. She loved watching Richard, Philip and the rest of them; seeing their faces light up and their eyes sparkle; hearing the enthusiasm in their voices but she hardly ever followed their arguments. Now she was with a group of people who did not care that their ideas were threadba
