Child of the Phoenix (88 page)

Sweet Bride, was she never to be free of him? She wanted to run away. She wanted to scream.

‘Face him, Aunt Eleyne.’ Llywelyn was standing near her. ‘Tell him you want to live separately from Robert. Tell him how much you hate him. He’ll understand.’ The young man’s eyes were intense. ‘He doesn’t want you to be unhappy.’ He reached out and took her hands. ‘He wants to keep Alexander’s friendship. He’ll help you.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure.’ A handsome young man in his early twenties, he was confident of his own infallibility.

It was raining. She could hear it pouring down the gutter outside her window and splashing on the paving of the small courtyard beyond her room. On the far side of the walls it thundered on to the new red-green leaves of the unfurling oaks. Nesta and Joanna and her nurse, Meggie, were all asleep in the darkness of the room. Eleyne raised herself on to her elbow and peered around, holding her breath. Then she heard it again; the latch was moving. Slowly the door creaked open. She knew it was Robert even before she saw him outlined against the light of the torch in the passage outside.

She grabbed her bedcovers and held them tightly to her breasts. Next to her Nesta groaned.

‘What do you want?’ Her voice sounded shockingly loud in the silence. Robert jumped and the two women sat up in fright. Joanna began to cry.

Robert lurched against the wall, looking blankly into the darkness. ‘I want my wife.’ His speech was slurred. Waving his arms, he stumbled into the room and grabbed at Nesta’s arm. ‘Get out. Take the brat with you.’

‘Stay where you are!’ Eleyne said urgently to Nesta. ‘Go away, Robert. Now. You’re drunk! Leave us alone or I’ll call the guard.’

‘Call away.’ Robert hiccuped loudly. His eyes were growing used to the darkness. ‘They can throw out these women.’ He glared at the screaming child and lunged forward, catching Eleyne’s shoulder in his hand and pulling away the sheets. He narrowed his eyes as the jewelled pendant on its chain between her breasts caught the light and reflected a thousand prisms across her white skin. ‘Pretty bauble! Worth a fortune no doubt.’ He grabbed it and wrenched it from her, snapping the chain.

Eleyne gave a scream. She tried to snatch it back but he had staggered out of reach. ‘It’ll buy me some wine,’ he crowed. ‘Oh dear! So upset! Who gave it to you? Or can I guess?’

‘Give it to me.’ Eleyne snatched her bed gown from the end of the bed and, flinging it on, she pushed her feet out on to the cold floor. Joanna’s screams had risen hysterically in spite of Meggie’s frantic rocking. Holding the phoenix high, dangling on the end of its chain so that it flashed in the flickering torchlight, Robert backed away from her. She caught him as he reached the door and with a vicious lunge he pushed her to the floor, laughing as he tucked the pendant into his scrip.

By the time she had scrambled to her feet, he had gone.

‘Did he hurt you, my lady?’ Nesta ran to help her.

Mutely, Eleyne shook her head. His blow had glanced off her shoulder. She flung herself at the door and looked out, but there was no sign of Robert. He had disappeared into the warren of buildings and passages which made up the huge sprawling palace.

Eleyne could not sleep even when Joanna had at last been soothed and tucked back into bed, and the breathing of the two women had grown even once more. She was seething with fury, and it was still dark when she made her way to the stables. She had left Donnet with Tam. Quietly she called the dog and, putting the temptation to ride behind her, she went to walk in the orchards beyond the park wall. By the time she was to see her uncle, she was calm.

It did not surprise her to see that Robert was at the king’s side first. He eyed her smugly, sober, his hair and beard freshly barbered. His gown looked new.

Eleyne curtseyed to the king, her hand on Donnet’s head.

Henry smiled. ‘So, niece. I have some documents here for you to sign – ’

‘Do you value your alliance with Scotland, your grace?’ Eleyne held her uncle’s eye challengingly. Her voice was clear and steady as she interrupted him.

He frowned, astonished. ‘We are not here to discuss Scotland – ’

‘I think we are. The King of Scots gave me a valuable jewel; it was to be my security and part of my dower. Last night, my husband …’ she flicked Robert the barest glance – ‘stole it.’

Henry frowned. ‘I hardly think – ’

‘If I tell Alexander that you condoned that theft,’ Eleyne went on, ‘he will be angry and disappointed. He has always told me that you are a man of honour and I agreed with him. Yet this has happened under your roof.’

Henry sighed. ‘Give it back to her, de Quincy.’

Robert shook his head. ‘A whore’s bauble? I sold it.’

Eleyne gasped. ‘You can’t have. You haven’t had time …’

‘Find it!’ Henry’s voice cut in angrily. ‘I give you twelve hours to restore this jewel to your wife, Sir Robert, or you will be charged with the theft. Now leave me. Both of you. I have grown bored with your quarrels.’ He had forgotten why he wanted to speak to them in the first place.

Eleyne left the king’s room. She went straight to the stables and gave orders for Tam Lin to be saddled. Her anger and exhaustion after the sleepless night and the long ride the day before had made her restless. And she missed her pendant. She had grown used to the feel of it nestling between her breasts. It brought her close to Alexander.

Llywelyn’s voice brought her back to herself as she watched the groom fitting Tam’s bridle.

‘Would you ride with me, Aunt Eleyne? Our talks with the king don’t begin until tomorrow, so I thought I would go to Godstow to see Aunt Isabella. I owe her that much.’ He looked sheepish.

‘So your conscience troubles you. It was unkind to force her to leave Aber.’

‘I didn’t force her!’ Stung, he met her eye. ‘The king ordered her to the nunnery.’

‘But you didn’t argue, did you?’ Eleyne asked gently. ‘I’ll come with you. Poor Isabella.’ Even a visit to her would be better than staying under the same roof as her husband.

They found her thin and pale. The black habit of the Benedictines did not suit her. She looked from Llywelyn to Eleyne and back and then she laughed. ‘So. To what good fortune do I owe this visit? Or are you here to take me home?’

Llywelyn looked down. ‘It is for the king to say when you leave, Aunt Isabella. We came to see if you were well.’

‘And to gloat?’ Isabella walked restlessly across the parlour and back. ‘Well, now you have seen, I am well. You may go back to King Henry and tell him so. Tell him I am deliriously happy! Tell him I thrive. Tell him I pray for him daily!’ She kicked at the rush-strewn floor with a sandalled foot. ‘And you,
sister
’ – She faced Eleyne, her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you pleased with your success? Oh it was so clever wasn’t it? To ensure Gruffydd’s sons succeeded Dafydd …’ Suddenly she was crying.

‘Isabella!’ Anguished, Eleyne moved towards her. ‘Oh my dear, please …’

‘Don’t touch me!’ Isabella flinched and turned her back on them. ‘Go away! Both of you. Leave me to God!’

V
WOODSTOCK

King Henry summoned Eleyne to his private office that evening. He was not alone. With him was his son. At eight years old, Edward was tall for his age, very thin, and as handsome as his father in his own way. Precocious, with a cruel, malicious tongue which did not endear him to his father’s courtiers, Edward had his own household and apartments at Woodstock. Having escaped his new tutor, Peter of Wakering, he was sitting on a small stool, waiting impatiently to go riding. He glared at Eleyne with resentment as she came in and, feeling the child’s eyes on her, she glanced at him as she curtseyed to the king. Edward returned the look with a scowl. He did not like people intruding on the precious time when he should have his father to himself.

Henry ignored him. As Eleyne waited silently for him to speak, he paced the floor from the small ornately leaded window to the door and back, then he moved across to the high desk.

‘I have your jewel here.’ He picked it up and weighed it in his hand.

Eleyne felt her heart leap, but she kept a cautious eye on Henry’s face, trying to read his expression. Edward eyed the pendant speculatively.

‘It’s a beautiful trinket,’ Henry said at last, making no effort to give it to her.

‘Indeed, sire, I’m very fond of it.’

‘You say the King of Scots gave it to you.’ Henry looked up.

She swallowed, then nodded, uncertain which way the conversation was going. Edward listened to every word; he had become adept at picking up interesting snippets of information about the members of his father’s court.

‘I don’t want to offend Alexander,’ Henry went on thoughtfully. ‘As you know I respect and honour him, and I am very fond of the Countess of Pembroke, his sister … but neither do I want to offend the King of France, who naturally supports the Queen of Scots.’ He turned from her, the pendant still in his hand. ‘I cannot openly condone your visits to Scotland,’ he said slowly, ‘and I cannot vouch for your husband’s discretion. The man is a hothead and a drunkard.’ Holding out his hand he dropped the phoenix into her palm. ‘I wish you well, niece, but I think it best if I hear no more of these visits of yours, do you understand?’ His piercing blue eyes met hers and held them. ‘And in exchange for my lack of perspicacity I would appreciate your good offices in ensuring that your nephews toe the line in regard to the Welsh settlement. And before you ask, I want to hear no more about Isabelle de Braose either. I am pestered morning, noon and night about that woman. I wish to hear no more about her, and I wish to see no more of Sir Robert de Quincy.’

‘Sir Robert has left the palace, papa,’ Edward put in, ‘I heard him tell Prince Llywelyn he was going.’ He was looking with a strangely calculating expression at Eleyne.

The king swung round. He had forgotten his eldest son was there. ‘Wait for me in the courtyard, boy,’ he said curtly.

‘Yes, papa.’ Edward leaped to his feet and bowed meekly. He turned towards the door, then he stopped. ‘Sir Robert was very angry,’ he smiled maliciously. ‘He said all sorts of bad things about Lady Eleyne.’

Eleyne closed her eyes. Whatever Robert had said, she didn’t want to hear it. She clutched the precious phoenix tightly, as a talisman. When she opened her eyes she found Edward watching her closely.

‘He said nobody could trust her,’ Edward rushed on before his father could stop him. ‘And he said she was a witch and a murderer.’

‘That is enough, Edward,’ Henry thundered. ‘I told you to wait outside.’

‘Yes, papa.’ Edward lowered his eyes. He had surprisingly long lashes for a boy. They made him look almost demure. ‘I just thought you’d like to know what he said.’

VI
FOTHERINGHAY

For three weeks Eleyne waited for Robert to appear. He did not come. Joanna settled back into her routine and, at Eleyne’s summons, Rhonwen joined them from London.

‘So,
cariad
.’ Rhonwen had inspected the nursery and toured the castle, then she had nodded, content that all was running like clockwork. ‘When are you going back to Scotland? Surely you are not going to wait for him to summon you now he is back from the west?’ Together they began to plan.

It was the beginning of July when Eleyne and Hal Longshaft, who had returned to Fotheringhay as her steward, set off alone for the north, disguised in plain roughspun cloaks.

She enjoyed the ride, unencumbered by baggage or attendants. She enjoyed the empty roads, the disguise, the speed of their travel, and she enjoyed the challenge and excitement of getting a message undetected to Alexander. And above all, she enjoyed the thought of being with him again.

In the event he was at Berwick without the queen and they were able to meet easily in the house where she was lodging below the castle.

‘No one will ever know I have been in Scotland.’ She nuzzled against him, her hands busy inside his gown. ‘I’m a shadow. No more than a wisp of dust motes in a sunbeam. When you blink you’ll find I’ve gone.’

He laughed, pulling her on to his knee, his hands on her breasts. ‘Then I must be careful not to blink too soon.’ He lowered his head to her nipples, circling first one and then the other with his tongue until she cried out with pleasure.

They had only a short time together; he had to ride north almost at once and she could not go with him, but her visit had given them hope. ‘I’ll tell you if I can when I’m away from the queen, and you can come to me.’ He kissed her greedily, trying to take as much of her as he could before they parted. ‘That way we’ll be together sometimes and I shall carry the dream of you with me.’ He took the phoenix in his hand and pulled it gently, so that she had to move towards him, slipping obediently on to his knee, her breasts pressing urgently against his chest. ‘You must never take this off. It links us. It joins my soul to yours.’ His mouth sought hers and she felt his tongue urgent, probing, take her captive, demanding her surrender.

She rode to Scotland twice more that year, three times the next and once in the following spring. Each time Hal went with her. Each time, as far as she knew, her visits went undetected. Each time she wept when she discovered there was still no child. The months between were gentle times, occupied with Joanna and with her horses, when her body slept. Her beauty was at its ripest, but she covered herself with mantles and veils and played the chaste housewife with demure skill. Of her husband there was no sign at all.