Lady of the English (36 page)
Matilda grimaced at the mention of Stephen’s dumpy little wife. It was going to be a long battle to dislodge the usurpers.
The warning notes of a horn blared from the battlements and the women looked at each other in alarm. Moments later, Joscelin came to the chamber door and announced that King Stephen was pitching his tents outside Arundel’s walls. “My lord is going out to speak with him,” he said and, message delivered, hastened out again.
“Stephen would not dare besiege us.” Adeliza’s eyes were wide with anxiety. “I still hold the title of queen and I am his aunt through my first marriage. He will not breach that etiquette.”
“But your husband sent for him in the first place,” Matilda said curtly.
Adeliza flushed. “He was honour-bound to do so, even as he was honour-bound to grant you entrance and succour. You know that.”
A nauseating brew of anger and pain churned Matilda’s stomach. She rose abruptly to her feet and started towards the door.
Adeliza said sharply, “Let Will deal with this. Stay here.”
Matilda turned. “How am I to be queen of England and 282
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regent for my son if I shut myself in this chamber and let a man speak for me?” she demanded with icy contempt.
“You have no choice. Do you think I want any of this?”
Adeliza’s chin wobbled. “Do you not know how frightened I am? Not for myself, but for my child, for my husband, and most of all for you—for what will become of you, and what you will become.”
Her words struck Matilda like a slap. “I am an empress and a queen,” she snapped, “and I will be no one’s pawn.”
“But I am a queen too, and you are my daughter,” Adeliza pressed. “And you are God’s child and His subject above and beyond all.” She reached a slender hand towards Matilda.
“Please, leave it to Will—for my sake.”
Matilda felt like screaming at Adeliza, but knew it was pointless. “Very well.” She made a determined effort to control her frustration. “But I will have the maids pack my baggage, because whatever happens, it seems I have outstayed my welcome.”
ttt
Will dismounted outside the king’s recently pitched campaign tent and handed his reins to an attendant. The morning mist was slowly clearing to expose a fuzzy halo of sun, although there was no warmth in the atmosphere. Will inhaled deeply to steady himself and followed an usher into the king’s presence. Stephen was standing by a brazier, warming his hands and drinking hot wine, steam curling from its surface.
“Sire.” Will knelt on the thick fur rug. The king’s brother, Henry, bishop of Winchester, was also present and extended his hand for Will to kiss his sapphire ring. He too must have recently arrived, for he was wearing silver spurs and the hem of his cloak was muddy.
Stephen gestured Will to rise, irritation obvious in the abrupt waft of his hand. “What do you mean by succouring Robert of Gloucester and the Countess of Anjou at Arundel?” he demanded.
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Will cleared his throat. “The Earl of Gloucester is no longer at Arundel, sire.”
“And you did not see fit to detain him?” Stephen’s gaze was dark with displeasure. The bishop looked down and fiddled with his episcopal ring.
“Sire, I deemed it honourable to let him go on his way without interference.”
Stephen’s brows arched in astonishment. “Did you indeed?”
“He is my stepson by marriage and the son of King Henry.
I am honour-bound to respect the kinship bond and give him houseroom. It would have been dishonourable to make him my prisoner. Had you arrived while he was still under my roof, I would have had to choose between my oath to you and my duty to a family guest.”
“But why grant them houseroom in the first place?” Stephen snapped. “Why in God’s name give them a safe landing place and admit them into the castle? What is the point of having everyone on alert, watching the coast, if you are going to open the back door? Either you have soup for wits, my lord, or I should add you to the list of the faithless.”
Will’s shoulders tightened. “They would have landed no matter what precautions you took. My wife thought that by talking to the empress as a mother to a daughter, she could make her see sense.”
Stephen looked sceptical. “And has that happened, my lord?”
Will grimaced. “She has fixed notions, but Adeliza is continuing to counsel her.”
“And may as well talk to the wall for all the good it will do.
You should not have let Robert of Gloucester leave Arundel.”
Stephen drained his wine and banged his cup down. “If I order you to hand over the empress will you defy me?”
Will was alarmed, but remained outwardly impassive. “Sire, if I give her to you, I will be breaking a sacred bond.”
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“If you do not, you compromise your loyalty to me,”
Stephen growled.
Henry of Winchester stepped forwards. “You cannot afford to besiege Arundel,” he said to Stephen. “It will take too long, and while we are pinned down here, Gloucester will be carving himself an empire with Bristol at its hub. He is the one you should pursue. If you lay siege to Arundel, you will lose respect and men. The dowager queen was much loved at court and everyone knows she would not act out of defiance to you, but from the softness of her heart—and she is within her right. My lord D’Albini’s only sin is that of being too fond a husband.”
Stephen glowered at Winchester. “Then what am I to do, because I dare not leave Matilda here, whatever you say about womanly visits and the role of honour. I cannot ignore this threat and just ride away.”
Will wondered why the bishop of Winchester was giving Stephen a dove’s advice when usually he was all for seizing the moment.
“Give her safe conduct to Bristol to join the Earl of Gloucester,” the bishop said. “Return her to his custody. While she remains here, she is a woman acting of her own volition.
Sent to Bristol, men will see that she is in her brother’s keeping, and will be reminded that he is the power behind her presence, and would rule England in all but name. How many will bow to that? I will gladly go as her escort. That will leave you free to deal with insurrection elsewhere. With the Countess of Anjou and Robert of Gloucester pinned in one place, you will only have to focus on one objective—and men will commend you for your great chivalry.” He gestured to Will. “It will also liberate my lord D’Albini of the burden of his obligations.”
Stephen’s mouth twisted. “Men might also commend me for great folly.”
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Winchester shrugged. “Since the alternative is a long siege that might see you surrounded in your turn by Gloucester, you have no choice.”
“It is a way out, sire.” Will had never thought to find himself grateful to the bishop of Winchester. “Otherwise we are at an impasse.”
“Very well,” Stephen growled, “but I will have renewed oaths of fealty from you and your wife, my lord D’Albini, before I ride from here.”
“Gladly, sire.” Filled with relief, Will knelt to Stephen; but he felt as if he has been bruised and battered in a hard fight and that he was still on the battlefield.
ttt
Matilda stared at Will in disbelief and contempt. “You are giving me up to him?” In that moment she could have killed Adeliza’s upstart dolt of a husband, standing there in his muddy boots, legs planted wide, telling her of the deal he had made with Stephen.
He reddened. “I am doing no such thing, domina. You are being offered safe conduct to Bristol where you will be protected without causing harm to your stepmother and those beholden to her. I ask you to see sense and agree to the truce terms the king has offered.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then you destroy us all and you leave me no room for manoeuvre.” He extended an imploring hand. “Please, I ask you to accept the terms and go to Bristol. The bishop of Winchester and Waleran de Meulan will escort you.”
“It seems I have no choice,” Matilda said bitterly, hating to be powerless. She faced Will with angry pride but inside she was weeping with frustration.
He shook his head. “I do not have a choice either, and for that I am sorry.” He bowed to her, exchanged an unhappy glance with Adeliza, and left the room.
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Thirty-three
Arundel, September 1139
T he following morning, Matilda dressed for travel in a red wool dress embroidered with thread of gold and sparkling with jewels. A gold cross set with rubies lay on her breast, and her fingers glittered with rings of sapphire, ruby, and pearl. “I will not leave here as a fleeing woman, but as a queen and an empress,” she said to Adeliza as her ladies fastened her ermine cloak with gold clasps.
“You must see that we are caught between two millstones.”
Adeliza’s gaze pleaded Matilda to understand.
“Had everyone followed my father’s wishes, there would not have been any millstones,” Matilda said curtly.
“I agree, but since they did not, everyone has had to make unpalatable decisions.” Adeliza bit her lip. “You must write to me. I will worry about you.”
Matilda was tempted to ask if Adeliza would share the letters with her oaf of a husband and pass the notes on to Stephen, but she bit her tongue. “If I can,” she said shortly, and turned to the door. “No,” she said. “Do not come with me.”
Adeliza’s eyes filled with tears. “I cannot bear to part like this. Will you not at least let me embrace you?”
Matilda was still angry but allowed her to do so, and as she felt Adeliza’s arms around her, a sudden tug of emotion made LadyofEnglish.indd 287
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her hug Adeliza in return. Before the feeling could turn to tears, she pulled away and stood upright like a soldier.
“God keep you safe,” Adeliza whispered. “I will be praying for you.”
In the courtyard, the bishop of Winchester and Waleran de Meulan were waiting for her with Will D’Albini. Since Henry of Winchester was not only a bishop, but also a papal legate, Matilda had to kneel to him. She knew he was sizing her up like a spider with many flies stuck on his web, his own brother among them, and wondering if he could entangle her too.
Waleran de Meulan on the other hand was a wolf, ready to run down his enemies and rip out their throats.
“Cousin,” said Henry of Winchester. “Would that we were meeting in happier circumstances.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Matilda said. She did not acknowledge Meulan beyond a curt nod. He knelt to afford her the courtesy due her rank, but rose again immediately so that his knee barely skimmed the ground. Matilda compressed her lips.
Will assisted her into a covered wain that had been part of the negotiations. It contained her baggage and was covered by a rich tent cloth painted with golden lions that had belonged to her father. It meant she would not be seen by Stephen’s soldiers as she journeyed past the enemy camp and was a symbol of peaceful travel rather than military briskness.
Will knelt to her again, with full honour, and then stood up.
She expected him to look away in embarrassment or shame, but he met her gaze with a troubled, steady look. “God speed you, domina. I wish you no harm.”
“But you do wish me gone, do you not? Well, you have your way, my lord, may it not trouble your slumber.” She climbed into the wain and dropped the curtain, then sat down amid the cushions and furs padding the sides. Light filtered through the red covering, dipping everything in dark crimson 288
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like the back of a closed eyelid on a sunlit day. Briefly Matilda put her face in her hands, and a tremor shook her body, but she made no sound.
ttt
Will found his wife standing in the room that had been Matilda’s for her brief stay. He was uncertain how she was going to receive him, but when she turned at his entrance, there was no anger in her eyes, just troubled sadness. “I fear for her,” she said. “I fear for us all.”
He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
“When I married you, I swore I would protect you and keep you safe, and no matter what happens, I will do that.” His voice strengthened with a hint of anger because he felt as if his word of honour had been impugned. “I am a man who keeps my promises.”
Adeliza leaned her head against his chest. “I know that, but I am sorry you cannot protect her in the same way you protect me.”
“She can look after herself,” he muttered, remembering her wide grey eyes on him in the moment before she climbed into the wain. The contempt. The pride. The anger.
“No,” said Adeliza. “You are wrong, my husband. She cannot, because she is her own worst enemy.”
ttt
The escort party stopped for the night at Rowland’s Castle, a small keep on the road to Winchester. The lord was not in residence, but his bailiff and steward, forewarned by outriders, had lit fires and prepared chambers. Matilda’s room, set two floors above the main hall, was draughty from the ill-fitting shutters over the window loops, but heat from braziers kept the worst of the chill at bay and her ermine cloak was heavy and warm. She felt as if she had been shaken about in a bag of logs after her day in the cart.
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Her women made up the bed in the chamber with good linen sheets and woollen blankets. When the legate’s usher came to request that she attend on his lord, Matilda was tempted to refuse for the pleasure of putting Winchester’s nose out of joint, but she was intrigued too, and wondered what he was up to. He was not the only one who could spin webs.
When she arrived at the legate’s chamber, he was standing by a brazier reading a piece of parchment but looked up as she entered. A youth was setting out a flagon and cups on a sideboard, and arranging a white cloth containing small stuffed pastries. Patting the lad on the head, the bishop dismissed him with a pastry for each hand and gestured the other servants to leave too.
