Child of the Phoenix (68 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I
DUNFERMLINE CASTLE
June 1238

‘W
e are going to Falkland.’ Robert stood in front of his wife, hands on hips. ‘As the guests of the Earl of Fife.’

‘No.’ Eleyne shook her head. ‘That’s not possible; the king would not allow it.’

‘Because he is so fond of your company?’ His voice dropped, heavy with sarcasm. ‘Do you think I don’t know what is going on? Do you think anyone in the castle doesn’t know? You behave like a strumpet, you flaunt yourself when you’re near him – ’

‘That’s not true!’ Her moment of panic had vanished. In its place came the cloak of frozen dislike which cocooned her whenever her husband came near her. ‘How can you say such a thing when my aunt is scarcely cold in her grave?’

‘Exactly, your aunt. I am sure the king, your uncle,’ he emphasised the word carefully, ‘will give us leave to go to Falkland.’

‘I think you must go.’ Alexander put his hand gently to her face. ‘He is right, people are noticing. How could they not when I follow you around like an adoring puppy, fawning in your lap?’ The firelight played softly over their skin, softening and blurring the shadows over the curves and angles of their bodies as they lay in one another’s arms on a pile of furs before the fire. ‘Besides, I neglect my kingdom shamefully.’

‘But I can’t leave you …’

‘You must, just for a while.’ He raised himself on his elbow and pulled her face towards his, kissing her fiercely. ‘Do you think I want you to leave me? Do you think I can bear the thought of you in your husband’s bed when you should be in mine?’

He ran his hands down her body, tasting, devouring her flesh as she lay quivering beneath him, her thighs parting slackly at the command of his questing fingers. It was several minutes before she could speak again.

‘You could send him back to England – ’

‘Aye,’ he smiled. ‘Maybe I’ll do that. Send him on his way and volunteer to take care of you myself.’

‘Then I needn’t go to Falkland?’ She arched her back, throwing back her head so her hair trailed across the furs in a gesture of abandoned sensuality. ‘I needn’t see Lord Fife again?’

The king raised his head, his eyes narrowed. ‘You are not still afraid of Lord Fife?’

She could not explain the strange dread she felt whenever the man came near her. ‘Not as long as I have your protection.’

‘Sweet Eleyne, you have my protection – and he knows it. And,’ his voice became stern, ‘while you are at Falkland you will have your husband’s as well.’

II
FALKLAND CASTLE
June 1238

Falkland Castle stood on the central plain of Fife in the shadow of the Lomond Hills. The great fortress of the Earls of Fife boasted a vast circular tower, a hall, a chapel and numerous other buildings within its high curtain wall.

It was three days before the Earl of Fife managed to find Eleyne alone on her way back from the stables, where she had been looking at his horses.

‘So, my lady, I think you have been avoiding me.’

‘Lord Fife.’ Eleyne looked round swiftly. Her ladies had moved on out of earshot, chattering amongst themselves.

‘I have not congratulated you on your new husband.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Or should I perhaps commiserate?’

She straightened her shoulders haughtily: ‘I don’t understand you, sir.’

‘Don’t you? Well, remember, if you need a man, a young man – ’ he paused for a fraction of a second, allowing the weight of innuendo to fall on the penultimate word – ‘to champion you in any way, I am at your service.’

Her eyes sparkled with anger. ‘If I need a champion, Lord Fife, I already have one to serve me.’ She tried to keep her dislike of him from her voice.

He bowed. ‘Then I shall bide my time. You may yet call upon me one of these days. Meanwhile, you will be pleased to know that the king will be my guest for the first hunt of the season on Midsummer’s Day. We have some fine harts here in the forest of Falkland.’

He had not come near her but she felt his eyes moving over her body, devouring her greedily, touching her with all the intimacy and hunger of a lover. Neither of them moved then, with a bow, he left her staring after him, her heart heavy with foreboding.

For the hunt on Midsummer’s Day, Eleyne wore her gown of silver samite and a mantle of dark green silk, her hair bound beneath a veil of finest gauze. She was to ride a milk-white palfrey, caparisoned in blue and silver, a present from Lord Fife. She had not wanted to accept it, much as she loved the horse on sight; but Robert had insisted. Ever greedy, he had calculated the horse’s value – at least forty pounds, he reckoned – and he had accepted for her.

As she curtseyed before the king, she was conscious of a hundred pairs of eyes watching her from the crowds who mingled around them at the start of the day. Alexander touched her hand and smiled gravely. They had gathered to breakfast beneath the trees at the edge of the forest. As soon as the huntsmen had located the first stag they would be off, the king with his nobles at the head of the field. Eleyne intended to be at the front with them. As the king moved off, young Robert Bruce approached Eleyne, his grey eyes full of mischief. He bowed low. ‘Mama sends you greetings and best wishes from Lochmaben, Aunt Eleyne.’ He emphasised the title gravely. ‘She misses her visits to you at Fotheringhay.’

Eleyne had torn her eyes from the king with difficulty, but Robert’s charm was irresistible. ‘You must stop calling me Aunt Eleyne,’ she scolded, ‘I’m younger than you, Rob!’

‘Rubbish! You’re a hundred years older!’ Robert bowed again, his eyes teasing. ‘Unless of course you can prove you’re not by being in at the kill.’

John’s handsome nephew had been named by King Alexander as heir presumptive now John was dead, and was frequently to be found at court near the king. The realisation that Robert and his sons might be the future of Scotland had given Eleyne a pang of misery when she first realised the significance of Robert’s new status, but that had not changed her liking for him.

She laughed. ‘I’ll be there, nephew,’ she said, ‘have no fear on that score!’

A fine linen tablecloth had been spread on the ground for breakfast and, as they all followed the king’s example and sat down around it, Eleyne was conscious of her husband at her side. He was sitting so close that he was crushing her gown. She pulled at it, irritated, and heard the fabric rip slightly in her hand. The king was talking to his neighbour on the other side and didn’t notice; nor did Lord Fife who was standing on the far side of the cloth, frowning slightly as he checked the preparations for the hunt.

Seeing her restlessness, Robert moved closer to Eleyne. ‘We ride together,’ he said quietly. ‘At the back of the field.’

She was furious. ‘Why?’

‘Because I say so. I have no desire to ride with the king.’

‘Well, I have. I am never at the back of the field, never.’ Again she tried to rise, but he was pinning her down. ‘You can’t make me ride at the back. Everyone would think there was something wrong with me.’

‘Something wrong, because you choose to stay with your husband?’ he mocked. ‘I think you will find that the ladies of the court,’ he paused significantly, ‘will be rather pleased to see you playing the obedient wife, for once.’ He reached forward for some wine.

Eleyne waited, impotent, as one by one the members of the party rose and went to find their horses. She gazed longingly at the white palfrey which was standing with Robert’s beneath the trees at the edge of the clearing.

When at last the king rose, he turned to her and smiled. ‘Are you accepting any wagers this time, my lady? On who will be first at the gralloch?’

‘My wife is going to follow at the rear of the hunt today, sire.’ Robert stood up and pulled Eleyne to her feet. He kept a firm hold on her arm.

The king was concerned. ‘You are not ill …’

‘No, she is not ill, merely content to ride with me.’ Robert met the king’s eye, then he looked down. Alexander raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She stared after him in disbelief. Surely he wouldn’t leave her without another word?

It was Lord Fife who intervened. He stepped across the cloth, pulling on his gloves; it was obvious that he had heard the exchange. He gave her a conspiratorial wink. ‘I trust you like your horse, Lady Chester?’ he said loudly. ‘He is one of the best in my stable, and I beg leave to ride with you as you test his paces. I am sure Sir Robert won’t object – a host’s privilege.’

Eleyne pulled her arm from her husband. ‘Thank you, my lord, I accept your offer gladly.’ She shot a venomous look at Robert and stepped away from him. Any escort was better than her husband, and Lord Fife would, at least, keep up with the best.

‘You like him?’ As they trotted side by side up the grassy ride, Malcolm of Fife looked across at her horse. The gelding was a high-stepping, showy horse, with flowing mane and tail. He carried his head proudly, as if aware of the beauty of the woman on his back, aware too that she would be more than a match for him if he chose to show his paces. ‘I called him Tam Lin.’

She was intrigued in spite of her antipathy to the man. ‘That’s a strange name.’

Fife’s handsome face lit out of its usual sulky expression. ‘After the elfin knight, who rode a milk-white steed. But you must call him whatever you wish.’

Eleyne shook her head. ‘Tam Lin it shall be.’ The huntsman’s horn rang through the trees. ‘They’ve found the stag. Now we shall see how this horse can run.’

They had killed four times by evening and riders and horses were tired as they rode back into the courtyard of Falkland Castle. Eleyne was riding between the king and the earl, ecstatically happy; it had been a wonderful day. Lord Fife had remained at her side, but they had been close to the king for much of the time and both men had flirted with her – complimenting her, teasing her, giving her all their attention. She had not seen her husband for several hours. Dismounting, she gave Tam Lin a hug, then she turned to the king who was watching her, amused.

‘Do you always kiss your horses with such passion, lass?’ he asked humorously.

‘If I like them.’ Throwing her veil back, she stretched her arms above her head to ease her stiffness, a gesture of sensual abandonment which occasioned a few raised eyebrows among the court ladies dismounting near them. They had missed no detail of Lady Chester’s day; seen every look and smile the king and the earl had thrown her. ‘I love my beautiful Tam Lin,’ she went on. ‘Lord Fife gave him to me. Aren’t you jealous that I should get such lovely gifts?’

‘Indeed I am, I shall have to watch my Lord Fife, I can see.’ The earl was talking to the huntsmen and for a moment the king’s voice grew serious. ‘Can it be that you have got over your dislike of the man? Perhaps I should ask him to visit some far outpost of my kingdom while you are in Scotland.’

‘He could take my husband with him,’ Eleyne agreed.

People were crowding around them; someone slapped the king on the back. The huntsmen were carrying in the carcasses; Eleyne was separated from Alexander and turned happily towards the castle. There would be feasting in the hall that night, but first she wanted to change her gown. There were tears where Robert had sat on it, and others where she had galloped through the trees, veil and skirts flying, in pursuit of the king. She had been beside him at the first kill.