The Traitor's Daughter (18 page)

“Do you still believe me?”

Hugh smiled and bowed, “You are a remarkable woman, Lady
Alais and I do not doubt anything you say. I believe you are capable of
understanding any language that can be spoken.”

Alais was content. She did not care what Lord Neville
thought of her; she valued only Hugh’s opinion.

Lord Neville’s office was small and dark, like the man
himself.

“So,” he said, as Alais and Hugh entered, “this is the
woman who makes up tales about murder and runs around the countryside alone
like a wild thing in the middle of winter.”

“No,” said Hugh stiffly, colouring slightly, “this is
Lady Alais de Montjoye, my father’s betrothed wife.”

“Does your husband know that you travel unescorted?”
Lord Neville turned his piercing gaze on Alais. Before she replied, she
reminded herself that the king had not left a fool to look after his kingdom.

“He would not be surprised to hear of it, my lord, nor
would he think any the less of me for it.”

Alais was surprised at her boldness, but Lord Neville
only smiled.

“Come here and read this.” He held out a book towards
her. Alais stepped forward and took it from his hand. It was already open and
she read from where he indicated.

“Now, translate.”

Again, she did as she was asked.

Neville plucked at his lips with his fingers. “How do
you come by your knowledge of Latin?”

“My tutor is my uncle. He is a priest and was educated
for high office. When my father was executed he fell from favour and came to
live with us at Leigh. I attended all my brothers’ lessons. They did not care
for Latin, but I did and my uncle encouraged my interest. He enjoyed having
someone to practise on.”

Neville looked at her shrewdly. “Very well, I will
accept your story. Hugh, I will let you take some men to see what you can do
for your father.”

“And Lady Alais?”

“You can hardly take her with you! She shall stay here,
but quietly. I do not want the king to hear that I have allowed Jean de
Montjoye’s daughter into his palace.”

“My father might have betrayed the king’s father…” Alais
swallowed deeply, it still hurt to think of her father as a traitor, “But two
of my brothers died fighting with the king in the north and I have ever been
loyal to him.”

Neville’s face darkened. “It will take more than words
to prove your loyalty. Only Mortimer was a greater traitor than your father.
You would do well to remember that.”

“Have I not risked my life to save that of the king’s
most loyal servant - my husband?” she protested.

“Hugh tells me that you were in Southampton at the time
of the French attack.”

“That is correct.” Alais was confused by his change of
tack.

“And he saved your life.”

“Yes.” Now she understood.

“Are you not simply repaying that debt?”

Alais smiled. “There you have me, my lord. I do not
know. Certainly I am grateful to Sir Hugh for saving my life and I would not
want to see him implicated in a crime that is not his. And I certainly do not
seek to save my husband simply because he is the king’s servant.” She hoped
that Lord Neville would not press her further about her motives. She could not
lie. Even Hugh could not know that he had been the only reason that she had
left Liss.

Neville returned to his paper-strewn table. “Very well.
We will say for now simply that your loyalty to the king is not taken for
granted.”

He waved them away. Alais curtsied and she and Hugh left
the room.

Hugh was escorting Alais to the room that Lord Neville
had indicated she should sleep in. They were alone.

“My lord…” It was a difficult subject to broach, but
Alais did not think she would have another opportunity. “I have been thinking
about your brother, about his death.”

“Geoffrey?” Hugh stopped and she turned to look at him.
He had paled. She took a step towards him.

“Yes,” she said, uncertainly, “I wondered whether
Stephen might not be responsible for his death. Not directly,” she added, “but
with mercenaries as he is doing now.”

“No, Stephen was not responsible for his death.”

“How can you be so sure? My lord?” She reached out and
took Hugh’s hand, for he looked as if he might faint. Hugh squeezed it and
released it, then straightened to his full height.

“I tell you because it is wrong for you to think worse
of Stephen than he deserves. I know that he did not kill Geoffrey… because I
did.”

Alais gasped and backed away. Seeing the look of deep
sorrow on his face, she stepped back and took his hand again, but he pulled it
from her grasp.

“Why?” It came out as a horrified whisper. She
swallowed, “You are not base and desirous of land like Stephen.” Stupid, she
thought. Of course Hugh would not kill for land or wealth of any kind.

“There are some things it is better for you not to
know.”

“And there are some burdens it is better for a man not
to bear alone.” Alais knew she had no right to make such an offer to a man who
was not her husband, but she loved him and would do all she could to lessen his
pain.

“You think I had good reason, then, and you will not
change your opinion of me when you know it?”

“You are a good man, Hugh. It would take a great deal to
make me change my mind about you.”

“Killing my brother is no small thing.”

Alais shook her head. “What did he do to make you kill
him?” she persisted.

Hugh took a step closer to her. “Alais, I value your
opinion of me above all else. I would not see you lose the trust you have in
me, which you must when you know what I did.”

Alais reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. “Hugh,
Stephen is trying to kill you, yet you cared enough for his reputation to own
that you killed Geoffrey. If you care for Stephen’s reputation, how much more
must you have cared for Geoffrey’s life.”

Hugh’s eyes bored into her as he tried to decide whether
or not to tell her. He seemed to sag a little; she thought he even rested his
cheek in her palm, briefly. Then his lips curved in a small, unhappy smile and
she knew he was going to tell her. “Geoffrey was a cruel man. Not, like
Stephen, with words. He was not that clever. He used beatings and force. Many
times I heard Elizabeth screaming and crying from their bedchamber. I fought
him often over it, but he would not stop and he was her husband. It was not
really my right to interfere. I know he was cruel to others, but never when I
was there to see.” He paused and closed his eyes, as if to remind himself of
what had happened. Then he moistened his lips and opened his eyes. “One day,
shortly after I returned from France, I was working at the high field. When I
got back to the house I realised that I had dropped my knife up there. It was
still light, so I went back to find it alone. Everyone thought Geoffrey was
drinking and whoring in Petersfield. I do not know where he had been, or what
he had been doing. I know only that he was in the field when I got there, with
a boy.” He swallowed. “You do not need to know what he was doing to the boy,
but the boy was screaming. He was...he was very young.”

“No,” agreed Alais, stroking his cheek. “I do not need
to know.”

“I pulled him off the boy and sent the child on his way.
Then I challenged him to mortal combat. He had his dagger and I had mine and I
won.”

The silence hung heavily between them. There was so much
she did not understand, but she knew she had to choose her questions carefully,
or he would not answer her. “Why did you tell no one? There was no shame
there.”

“He did not want to fight, but I forced him to. It was
not a fair challenge.”

“If you did not cheat, and I know you did not, it was a
fair challenge.”

Hugh said nothing. She closed her eyes. She did not know
what Geoffrey had been doing, but that must be where Hugh’s shame lay. “But why
did you take off his clothes?” she asked in a last attempt to understand what
Hugh had done.

Hugh took her hand and brought her palm to his lips and
dropped a gentle kiss into it. Then he started to walk away from her. “He was
already naked. I just took them to confuse everyone.”

Alais hurried after him. He had been correct; there were
some things she was better off not knowing.

Hilda came to Alais in the morning to dress her before
the other women rose. She contrived something with some pieces of rag in Alais’
hair to make it look more full beneath her veil, but Alais did not feel right.
She had been more comfortable in Hugh’s clothes than she was now.

Hilda led her to the hall where she joined Hugh. He had
a determined look on his face as she walked across the hall to join him. He
smiled when he saw her and shared his bread with her.

“How many men do you take, my lord?” They both knew that
yesterday’s intimacy could not continue here, probably should not continue at
all.

“Ten.”

“I pray that Stephen sends fewer.”

“Mercenaries are not cheap and Stephen’s wife spends his
money easily.”

“But he can promise money from his inheritance.” She did
not want Hugh to underestimate the danger that waited for him.

“Do not worry, my lady, mercenaries do not fight for a
promise of money. Stephen will have to pay them before they go to work for
him.”

“Then I hope he does not have funds that you do not know
about.” She was doubtful that Hugh truly understood the extent of Stephen’s
resources. Since he cared little for wealth himself, except where he had
practical and legitimate need of it, he had had no cause to consider what
Stephen and Richard might have available between them. Alais had noted their
wives’ costly jewellery which could be sacrificed to pay the mercenaries.
Richard gambled heavily and lost, but it was possible that Stephen gambled
wisely and won.

Hugh considered, then smiled at her sadly. “I must go to
my father no matter how many mercenaries there may be.” She had been wrong;
Hugh had not underestimated Stephen at all. Alais took no comfort from the
knowledge, except to be grateful that he would be better prepared for what he
might meet in Ewell.

“I understand. Please come back.”

“That is my intention.” Alais was satisfied. He was not
saying it to placate her; he truly intended to return to her.

Edmund approached. He bowed to Alais and turned to Hugh.
“It is time to leave.”

“Then I must bid you farewell, my lady.”

They both stood and Hugh took her hand. Bowing low over
it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. Alais found she could say nothing
as both men turned away and left the hall.

Hilda showed Alais around the palace. Apart from the
cathedral in Winchester, it was the largest building she had ever seen.
Concerned that she could get lost in the various passages and halls, she was
determined to understand its layout as quickly as possible. She would only be
here for a few days and she had to keep out of the way as much as possible. Not
that anyone here would recognise her. Few of her father’s old friends had
visited them recently and those that had had little interest in being at court
while the king was abroad.

Alais already missed Hugh and he would be gone for days.
This was almost worse than Liss. She knew no one here and could know no one,
since she was not supposed to be here. Although she wondered what would happen
if her husband came here instead of going to Ewell as planned. Would she still
be the anonymous woman haunting the palace passages or would she be
acknowledged as his wife?

“What will I do all day?” she asked Hilda as they
returned to the hall for the midday meal.

“I do not know, my lady. My son told me only that you
have to keep out of the way.” She smiled fondly at the thought of him.

“Edmund is your son?”  Alais could not hide her shock.
She had thought that Edmund had called her mother as a term of respect. This
could not be Edmund’s mother, her husband’s mistress. Alais considered that
Edmund’s mother must have been about thirteen or fourteen when she first went
into Sir William’s bed, so she would now be in her mid-thirties. But Hilda was
old, too old, surely. The thin and wispy hair that escaped from her veil was
white. She limped slightly and an old scar closed her left eye.

“Yes. He is a good son.” Then she saw Alais’ expression.
“You think I am too old and ugly to have been in my lord’s bed?”

Alais did not bother to deny it. “I was once young and
beautiful. I was twelve when first he took me and not quite thirteen when I
bore him Edmund. I hoped he would have tired of me while I was with child, but
he took me back and I bore him Edwina a year later. My next child was stillborn
and he beat me, accusing me of killing the child so that his people would think
him impotent and lose their respect for him. He broke my leg and blinded me. He
did not want me after that.”

Her outspokenness shocked Alais, then she realised that
she should be scared at what the other woman had said.

“How do you come to be here?”

“Sir William brought me with some of his other servants.
He likes the way I look after him.” Now her bitterness showed and Alais
wondered that she and Edmund could bear to be anywhere near Sir William. No
wonder Edmund spoke so little, he must be constantly struggling to control
himself. Alais was getting a clearer picture of her husband. He must enjoy the
humiliation that his actions caused to Hilda and their son. It was a constant
reminder of the power that he had over them.

“Do you always travel with him?”

Hilda lowered her eyes. “Yes, my lady.”

Alais wondered whether, even now and disfigured and
disabled as she was, Hilda still shared her lord’s bed at all. She wondered who
was his more permanent bedfellow. She looked around the hall. Hilda followed her
glance. “Rowena, my lady.” She inclined her head towards a young redheaded girl
who crossed the hall at her signal and stood before Alais.