Stuart, Elizabeth (45 page)

Richard
rose to his feet. He had seen Edward's rages often enough but had never felt
the brunt of them himself until now. "Your ward, Elen of Teifi, was
trusted to my keeping," he began slowly. "I sought to fetch her back
when Hugh de Veasy took her. The ship I needed was there, so I commanded it on
royal business, leaving Sir Giles Eversly to oversee Gwenlyn. To have awaited
your permission would have been to give the girl up. I acted as I thought you
would wish."

"But
you armed Welshmen and took them against an English noble! Were you so sure
they wouldn't turn against you?"

Richard
met Edward's gaze evenly. "They are good men and were invaluable on the
raid. I've no fear of them."

"Humph."
Edward moved back around the table and sat down. "Never trust a Welshman
farther than you can see him," he muttered testily. "I've done so
before to my sorrow."

Richard
said nothing.

Edward
leaned back in his chair, tapping the fingers of his right hand against the oak
tabletop. "So, de Veasy seized my ward. He takes much upon himself,"
he growled. "Believe me, the man will soon feel my anger. A fat fine to
empty his purse will suit me well." His eyes flickered over Richard's
face, missing little. He leaned forward. "How came you by those
bruises?"

"They
are nothing. A personal matter."

"Ah...
de Veasy didn't give her up willingly, I see." Edward sighed, his anger
ebbing. "Despite your own cursed impudence, Richard, I must confess I'm
pleased you succeeded. But the girl be damned—I'll have this matter done! I
can't have my barons feuding over the wench. I've near a dozen offers for her,
but I'll give her to the first lord who asks with the strength to hold her
lands and the coin to garrison the necessary strongholds for England."

Richard
stiffened. Though he had expected the words, they were a blow. "I would
beg you think further, Your Grace."

Edward's
eyebrows rose imperiously. "What?"

Richard
hesitated. This was obviously not the time to petition the king, but he had to
speak. He couldn't bear to think of Elen wed to some knight Edward might name.
"In all our years together, I've asked for naught of you, Your Majesty.
Now I do," he began earnestly. "I ask that you think long on the
husband you choose for Elen. Give her to someone who would treat her honorably.
She is different from our English women. She'll fight any man who misuses
her."

Edward
studied him shrewdly. "Do you fancy the girl yourself?"

Richard
straightened, glancing away. He decided it would be best to admit the truth;
Edward would guess anyway. "I've long 'fancied' her, as you say."

Edward
brought his fist down on the table. "By God's sword, what foolishness is
this?"

"A
foolishness I'm loath to confess," Richard replied. "But I've yet to
lie to you, Your Grace, and I'll not begin now."

The
king gave a harsh laugh. "And did you think to win her for yourself when
you took her from de Veasy? Are the de Borgh lands not enough for you,
then?"

Richard
felt an angry flush creep up his face. "I had no such hope, Your Grace. I
know well I have naught to offer for her except my sword—a sword that has been
pledged to you these many years already. I sought only to prevent Hugh de Veasy
from seizing what was yours... and to save her a life of misery."

He
glanced at Edward defiantly. "But by all the saints, I'd take her had she
not a hide of land as dower. And I'd thank God on my knees if such were the
case!"

"Then
you'd be a fool. No man can afford to wed without thought to a dower."
Edward gazed at Richard keenly. "Take my advice, Richard, this woman can
bring you nothing but pain. And one female is much like another anyway. Take de
Borgh's daughter. I'll see that it's arranged."

Richard
moved to the window, staring out at a depressing expanse of gray Welsh sky. The
thought of returning to Gwenlyn without Elen weighed even heavier than he had
expected. "I can't," he said softly. "And I know your words are
false. Having known Your Queen, Eleanor, can you truly tell me you'd wed
another?"

"That's
different," Edward snapped.

Richard
turned. "I think not."

The
king rose to his feet abruptly. "Leave me. I've business to attend and have
wasted much time on this matter already. I've determined your action was
justified and will pardon your foolishness. But I'll do with the girl as I see
fit."

Richard
stood his ground. "I'm your man, Your Majesty, and will pledge to none
other. Nothing will change that. But for the love you once bore me, will you at
least promise not to act in haste where Elen is concerned?"

Edward
shook his head. "You're a fool, Richard, a chivalrous fool." His face
softened and the hint of a smile touched his mouth. "But you've been a
loyal man to me these many years. Now I grant you what you wish. I'll think on
this matter and we'll speak of it again."

Richard
nodded and moved slowly out the door. It was the best he could hope for, he
reminded himself grimly. But somehow Edward's words did nothing to ease the
vast emptiness in his heart.

***

"Pardon,
my dear, but may I come in?"

Elen
glanced up in surprise. A woman stood on the threshold, but Elen knew by her
regal air, her fine clothes, she wasn't just any woman. Eleanor of England
stood facing her across the room. Without thinking, Elen dropped into a deep
curtsy. Something about the woman commanded it.

Eleanor
moved toward her. "Oh rise, my child, rise. There should be none of this
between us." She smiled engagingly. "After all, you are a Welsh
princess—an older line even than my Castilian blood."

Elen
found herself smiling in response. She rose to her feet, unsure what to say.
She had been prepared to hate the English king and queen, but this woman's
charm was disarming.

Eleanor's
beautiful dark eyes moved over her. "Yes, you are as lovely as Richard
told me, but—"

"Richard...
you have seen him? Is he well?" Elen blurted out. At Eleanor's amused nod,
Elen turned away selfconsciously. "It's just that I've not seen him since
we arrived at Rhuddlan," she remarked defensively. "I couldn't help
but wonder if... if something had happened."

"Richard
is well, but yes, something has happened. I fear he is much in disgrace with my
husband for rushing to your rescue with a royal ship. He has not been allowed
to see you."

Elen
glanced up in dismay. There seemed no end to the trouble she had brought upon
Richard. "But that isn't fair. Richard rescued me from the Baron of
Ravensgate. And he didn't even kill the dog!"

Eleanor's
musical laugh tinkled out. "My child, he couldn't murder an English baron!
He'd have been in a great deal of trouble had he done that."

"Well,
I would have done it and been glad!" Elen said hotly. She thought of those
last few moments alone with de Veasy. A quiver of revulsion ran through her as
she thought of what would have happened had Richard not arrived. "The
Baron of Ravensgate is vile—lower than any crawling thing. He doesn't deserve
to live."

Eleanor
sobered at once. "Yes, I've never cared for Hugh de Veasy, and I greatly
regret your trial. But even such men have their uses."

Elen
sent her a bitter smile. "Uses? Yes. To loose them on your enemies. You
English have lessoned us well."

Eleanor
touched her shoulder. "But I am not English," she said, giving Elen a
long look. "Your Richard is a good friend of mine and I'd like to think
you could be as well."

"He
is not
my
Richard."

Eleanor
smiled and changed the subject. "Come, child, it's a gray day but I
thought you might take a stroll with me in the fresh air. I've a lovely garden
Edward built, with fish ponds and benches where we might continue our
talk." She looked Elen up and down. "And when we return, I'll see
about getting you fresh clothing. This looks a bit the worse for your
adventure."

Elen
glanced down at her soiled clothes in embarrassment. Her gown of blue wool was
torn in several places and hopelessly stained. She brushed self-consciously at
her skirt. "I fear I gave little thought to my gown while I was dangling
from the cliffs at Ambersly."

Eleanor's
eyes danced with laughter. "Doubtless there were other worries on your
mind. You must tell me about it as we walk. Richard was strangely loath to
speak." She sent Elen a conspiratorial smile. "Men leave out so many
important details, don't you agree?"

Without
knowing how, Elen soon found herself telling Eleanor about being tricked from
Gwenlyn, about her fear for herself and Richard, then all the details of the
daring escape from Ambersly. The queen was a good listener, and Elen had been
so long without a woman to talk with, she found herself confiding hopes and
fears she had never thought to voice. "But I shouldn't be telling you all
this," she ended in confusion.

"I
came here to listen," Eleanor said softly. "But tell me one thing
more. Do you truly care for Richard?"

Elen
glanced up in alarm. She had obviously revealed too much. "I am Welsh, he
is English," she said tartly.

"That
matters little. Edward is English and I am from Castile. Do you love him?"

Elen
rose from the bench and moved to the edge of the fish pond. The queen's knowing
eyes read far too much. "England and Castile are not at war," she
remarked, avoiding the question. She swung around determinedly. "It is my
intention to seek God's peace and wed myself to Holy Church. I've petitioned
the Archbishop, and I'll not change my mind."

Eleanor
sat quietly, gazing at her hands. After a moment, she rose to join Elen at the
water's edge. "The Church is a great calling but not, I think, for
all." Her lips quirked as she fought to suppress a smile. "Somehow, I
cannot see you in a nunnery."

A
step sounded on the path behind them. Elen turned to find Richard coming along
the curving stone walkway toward them. Her heart twisted painfully. Eleanor was
right. She would never find peace in a nunnery. She very much doubted she would
find peace anywhere.

Richard
halted before them, his eyes holding Elen's though his words addressed his
queen. "You sent for me, Your Grace?"

"Yes.
Now what did I want with you?" Eleanor remarked absently. "I can't
seem to remember, but I'm glad you're here. I've a meeting with my seamstress
and I fear Elen hasn't finished her walk. Would you act her escort, Richard?
You may bring her back when she tires."

Richard
shot her a grateful glance. "I'd be pleased to act as your deputy."

"Have
a care to the sky," Eleanor called in parting.

"Bring
her in if it commences to rain."

Elen
stared into the pond's shallow, brown water listening to Eleanor's rapidly
departing footsteps. "The queen did this on purpose, didn't she?"

"Probably.
Eleanor's devious mind near rivals your own."

Elen
glanced up. Richard was smiling down at her and the sight flooded her senses
with a bittersweet joy. "It's difficult not to like her, you know."

"Yes,
Eleanor can charm the feathers from a goose if she puts her mind to it."

She
glanced away. "I was worried when you didn't come. The queen says you're
in disgrace with the king."

Richard
shrugged his shoulders. "He's angry, but the queen tells me the real cause
is a petition from the London merchants to lower the wool duty. With trouble
brewing on the Scottish border, he needs money for troops. I just happened to
get in his way at the wrong time."

"Oh.
You won't be banished or recalled from Gwenlyn?"

"No.
His rage is shifting to de Veasy now. Edward can set a huge fine on the baron,
but he knows there's little he can take from me—one of the comforts of having
few worldly possessions." Richard frowned and glanced away. "There
should be some compensation, I suppose. Land is wealth and wealth the power to
do what you choose. Something I shall never know."

Elen
studied Richard's tanned face, surprised at the unaccustomed bitterness of his
words. Something weighed on him heavily—something besides Edward's anger.
"You have little power because you lack lands, while I am held prisoner
due to the extent of mine." She sighed. "Would that we could exchange
our positions."

Richard
didn't answer. Taking her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm.
"Come, let's walk a while."

They
strolled through Eleanor's pretty labyrinth of pools and hedges, shoulders
touching, each caught up in the worry of their thoughts. Upon reaching the end
of the pathway, Richard paused. "Elen, there's something you must prepare
yourself for." His hands slid to her shoulders and he turned her toward
him, his face unusually grave. "I know this foolish notion you have of
entering a nunnery, but the King will never allow it. I spoke to him today.
He's determined to marry you to someone who can hold your lands for
England."

Elen's
eyes flashed up at him. "Well, let him try. I'll not do it!"