Keeper of the Stone (28 page)

Rhiann only shrugged, immediately raising Nathan’s suspicions again.  “I doubt anyone here would know of my grandmother’s circumstances, sire.”

“Why not?”  Nathan demanded. Rhiann glanced from one to the other, and Nathan thought she might be contemplating her chances of escape.  “Answer me, wife.”

“You needn’t get surly with me, Nathan.  I doubt the Saxons here would know of my grandmother’s fate because my grandmother is not Saxon.”

Nathan thrust a hand through his hair wondering what new mystery and no doubt accompanying sacred family traditions were about to be thrust upon him.

The king laughed appreciatively.

“Who is your grandmother, my dear?”

Rhiann shook her head.

Nathan could not believe his wife was openly defying the king. “Rhiann, the king asked you a question.”

She lifted pleading eyes to her husband’s face and then turned apologetically to the king.  “My grandmother would not welcome the connection being made known, sire.  As I explained earlier, the situation is rather complicated.”

William’s lips twitched.  “Is it possible my dear your grandmother is not Saxon, but Norman?”

Rhiann sighed defeated.  “How did you guess?”

William laughed. Nathan turned his wife none to gently to face him.  “What is this Rhiann?  Your grandmother is Norman?  How is this?

His wife shrugged again.  “It’s complicated.”

“That’s not an answer, wife.” Nathan exclaimed frustrated.

At the same time, William insisted.  “Who is your grandmother, my dear?”

Rhiann’s gaze swept back and forth between the two men before finally sighing her defeat and reaching up and whispering in the king’s ear. 

William’s laughter erupted appreciatively and loudly. Rhiann glanced worriedly around and noticed they were attracting the attention of everyone else in the room.  She barely managed to suppress the urge to shush the king, and contented herself with glaring at him in what she acknowledged was a completely inappropriate manner.  The king grinned at her expression as he got his laughter under control, before rather loudly summoning another baron to join them.

“Baron James.” The king almost shouted over the din, and then impatiently motioned the older, wealthy man from his place across the room.

Rhiann regarded the king curiously.  She avoided meeting her husband’s glance completely.  He was no doubt irritated with her for keeping this rather important detail about her family history from him.

“Yes, my lord.  You wished to speak with me?”

William smiled benevolently at the newcomer.  “Yes.  I wanted to introduce you to your wife’s granddaughter.”

“I was unaware my wife had a granddaughter.” The older man responded confused.

Rhiann chastised the king.  “I told you sire, she would not appreciate you making the connection known.”

“Rhiann, for the love of…” Nathan was appalled at his wife’s rebuke of the king. 

William merely grinned in Rhiann’s direction.  Baron James looked thoroughly confused.

“I do not understand, sire.  Are you saying Lady Rhiann is my wife’s granddaughter?”

“So I understand,” William confirmed.

Everyone turned expectantly to Rhiann for an explanation.  She regarded the older man with a resigned expression and asked. “You are married to Lady Therese, my lord?”

“Yes.”

“She never mentioned she had a son she was estranged from?” Rhiann continued.

The baron’s eyes widened.  “Are you saying your father, the former duke, was my wife’s son?”

“Yes.”

Rhiann watched the other man process the information.  “If what you say is true, Lady Rhiann, why did you fail to make the connection known upon your arrival in London? Surely you realize you could have avoided a hasty marriage to the baron had you done so.”

“I am aware of that, baron, and was aware of the fact at the time.  If I was displeased with the king’s choice for a husband I would certainly have done so.”

Rhiann turned at Nathan’s quick intake of breath.  “Why are you surprised, Nathan?  I told you my father would approve of our match.  He would have liked you.”

Nathan met the older nobleman’s glance over his wife’s head.  He could see the older man believed he would have been awarded the duke’s estates if Rhiann was only a little more forthcoming about her family history. 

His lips curved in a slight smile as he contemplated the twists and turns of fate.  Apparently he was in debt almost as much to his wife as he was the king for his new elevated status in life.  He couldn’t help but wonder why Rhiann failed to make her connection to a wealthy Norman family known the moment she was brought before the king.  One more mystery for him to unravel concerning his wife’s family.  Rhiann was right about one thing, though.  It was certainly complicated.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Rhiann was able to evade her husband’s former not-quite-betrothed until a few days later when she was on her way to morning mass.  She saw Nathan’s mother enter the keep with a younger woman at her side.  Since she knew Nathan didn’t have any sisters, and she met his brother’s wife the evening they arrived in London, she assumed the woman accompanying Nathan’s mother must be Lady Sara.  Her mother-in-law was therefore relegated to the unenviable position of making the awkward introduction and appeared to do so with great reluctance.

Lady Sara didn’t bother with the customary courtesies good manners dictated even under the unusual circumstances they were faced with.  She failed to acknowledge Nathan’s mother’s introduction and instead asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Is it common for Saxon ladies to wear daggers?” Lady Sara’s voice dripped with sarcasm.  Her haughty brow arched as she continued.  “It is funny though.  I do not believe I have seen any other of the former Saxon nobility adorning themselves with one.”

Rhiann bit down on her instinctive unflattering retort about the other woman’s blatant rudeness. She was willing to be generous considering she ended up with Nathan, and Lady Sara was left quite alone.  Rhiann was certain if their positions were reversed she would no doubt not be feeling particularly charitable towards the other woman either. 

“Excuse me, ladies. I was on my way to morning mass.  It would be terribly rude of me to arrive late.”  The subtle emphasis she placed on the terribly rude was not completely accidental on her part.  She supposed she would have to confess that sin to Father Bernard in the confessional, but still Rhiann left the keep with a satisfied expression on her face.

Rhiann tried not to feel guilty about her deliberate attempts to avoid her mother-in-law.  Although she would have welcomed the opportunity to get to know Nathan’s mother better, the woman seemed constantly in the company of Lady Sara.  As Rhiann saw no reason to make an effort to befriend her husband’s former fiancé, and assumed correctly any attempt on her part to do so would be coldly rebuffed, the opportunity to become better acquainted with her mother-in-law eluded her.

  Under the circumstances Rhiann thought it best to avoid Lady Sara’s company as much as possible. She recognized the deep vein of resentment running through the other woman’s eyes when she looked at her and knew there was nothing she could do to change the Norman woman’s mind about her.  Rhiann could not really blame her for her animosity.  Lady Sara traveled a great distance to congratulate Nathan; the man she thought would wed her upon her arrival only to be greeted after her long journey with the news her betrothed was quite unable to fulfill his commitment to her.  She was placed in a horribly embarrassing position and rightfully blamed Rhiann for her predicament.  Since it was extremely unlikely Rhiann would ever see the woman again once she left London, Rhiann concluded it was not worth the awkward effort on her part to offer a branch of friendship she was quite certain would be thrown back in her face, most likely with a nasty insult or two accompanying it.

It was therefore with a feeling of intense relief when later in the week, she descended the stairs on her way to morning mass and found the great hall largely empty.  She was just congratulating herself on her good fortune when she noticed a wan looking woman sitting in a corner near the hearth, who appeared to be trying to blend into the wood framework surrounding it.  Rhiann sighed at the rather depressing sight, chided herself for her lack of sympathy towards the young woman and changed direction away from the large double doors guarding the king’s keep and towards where the woman sat alone.

Rhiann had seen her before lingering around the king’s hall, though not in the evening hours.  Her social status was apparently insufficient for her to receive an invitation to dine in the presence of the king, but was seemingly enough to grant her a room in the keep.  As she approached, Rhiann noticed the gown the woman wore was quite shabby and she was conscious of a twinge of guilt over her own luxurious, barely worn gown. The woman appeared to be of Saxon descent and she was not unpleasant to look upon.  Her blond hair was clean, her blue eyes a pretty color, but the expression on her face marred what would have otherwise been, if not a pretty countenance, certainly an inoffensive one.  The woman failed to acknowledge Rhiann’s approach, whether because she was unaware of it or because she chose to ignore it, Rhiann could not be certain. 

She thought she understood the woman’s position, sitting alone in the keep. She must be the daughter of a Saxon lord who was now under the protection of the king.  Rhiann wondered if the woman was facing the prospect of an unwelcome marriage to a Norman knight and pity welled up inside her at the woman’s plight.  So it was wearing a truly warm smile she greeted the lonely woman with and a new sense of gratitude toward the king for choosing Nathan to award her father’s estates to and to be her husband.  She heard the rumors of other Saxon ladies who were not so fortunate in their new husbands.

“Good morning.  Forgive me for interrupting your solitude. I just wanted to introduce myself.”  Rhiann extended her hand with a warm smile, so she was completely unprepared for the other woman’s vicious reaction to her friendly overture.

“I know who you are in your fine gowns and haughty manners.  You prance around the keep as though you are now the new monarch, instead of the Norman Duke.  It is a pity the new king did not order a lash to your back for your insolence when you were brought before him.  But no, he gives you to his favored knight.  Do you enjoy your new status as a whore for the Norman pig?”

Even as Rhiann was struggling to control her own reaction to the filth spewing forth from the woman’s mouth, she was aware of the soldier escorting her moving to intervene.  She stopped him with a shake of her head, even as the woman continued her tirade.  “Your father must be turning over in his grave at the thought of his daughter playing the whore for his enemy.  Or perhaps he is witnessing you spread your legs for your new husband from where he watches in heaven.”

Rhiann was unable to prevent her quick intake of breath, or the stab of pain at the other woman’s jab. Did she not already worry about her parent’s feelings on the matter of her marriage?  She was aware of the triumphant look in the woman’s eyes and knew she was aware her jab struck home. 

Rhiann drew on her long years of tutelage under her mother’s strict guidance and faced the woman unbowed, a look of haughty distain replacing her former warm expression.  She was every inch her father’s daughter and knew by the wary glance the other woman now wore, she feared she had gone too far in voicing her scorn. 

Though Rhiann understood a word to Nathan of this exchange would have the woman banned from the keep, she was not completely devoid of compassion for the woman’s circumstances.  She was her mother’s daughter after all, and would not go running to her husband to avenge every petty slight. So it was not with a feeling of shame or fear she faced her accuser, but one of true disdain. 

“It is not my father’s reaction that should concern you, but your own.  He would be ashamed of the bitter, vengeful, ugly witch his daughter has allowed herself to become.  You are so obsessed with your own circumstances you have no thought for anyone else, not even the orphans under Father Bernard’s care who have lost everything and yet there is no hatred in their hearts.  They ask for nothing more than a piece of bread and cup of water to content them.  They do not dine on the king’s food, or enjoy the warmth of his hearth and yet their hearts are gentle and filled with gratitude for what they are given. 

It is you who should be ashamed of yourself.  It is you who have sunk lower than that of a whore.  At least a whore offers a service in exchange for her wages.  What do you offer? What is left inside of you but a vengeful heart and a poisonous tongue?  I do not recall you scrubbing the floors or serving meat to earn your keep.  You do not appear strong enough to wield a sword in the king’s defense. You are nothing more than a parasite and I imagine the king will eventually tire of such a useless servant and you will soon be in need of a new home. Perhaps Father Bernard can be persuaded to find a pallet for you among his other charges.  He is a priest after all, and sworn to welcome even the lowliest of God’s children.”

Rhiann did not wait to see the effect, if any, her words had on the other woman.  Head held high, she spun on her heel and continued towards the door, chagrined to discover the keep was now considerably fuller than it was when she first descended the stairs.  Just to make matters worse, she caught sight of Lady Sara’s mocking look as she swept passed the woman on her way out of the keep.  The sneer on her face made it clear she whole-heartedly agreed with the Saxon woman’s assessment of Rhiann’s new status in life.

Nathan was informed of his wife’s scene with the Saxon widow by his soldier assigned to guard her so he put an early end to the day’s training in case he needed the additional time before the evening meal to comfort Rhiann.  He opened the door to his room unsure what to expect and saw his wife sitting on the bed, her face averted, staring blindly out the window.  The lingering evidence of tears on her cheeks tore at his heart.  He wished now he stopped to have a warning word with the bitter Saxon bitch before returning to his room.