The Winter Promise (18 page)

“He will not need to do so again,” Lord John snapped.

Edward held up his hand. He disliked bickering and was known to go to great lengths to effect a reconciliation between two warring parties. Usually this resulted in both parties being disappointed. Imma held her tongue so as not to provoke him.

“My lady Imma,” Edward said. “John has returned from Normandy. He has left his estate there in the hands of his eldest son, who has recently come of age.”

“I have been a long time away from home,” Lord John interjected. “And often wished to return.”

“Welcome,” Imma said, wondering why this was being explained to her. It had nothing to do with her. “My lord Robert and Lady Elizabeth have been most kind to me.”

“Lord John seeks a wife,” Edward said, and the silence that followed his remark echoed in the room.

Imma darted a glance at Elizabeth’s face. The older woman set her jaw. Her face looked drawn and haggard. Elizabeth would never say Imma’s secret. But to have it would break her heart.

Imma returned her gaze to King Edward, who smiled benevolently at her.

“Your grace,” she faltered. “You think I — ?”

“Yes, I do. All of John’s sons are grown or nearly so. He knows of your — situation. He has no need of sons. But he has need of a wife.”

A
wealthy
wife went unspoken, but she knew what was meant.

“My lord,” she began, twisting her hands together. What could she say? Robert had not asked for her. Robert did not want her for a wife. Robert thought she betrayed him. But for her to marry Lord John, just as Robert’s beloved Anna had … that was too much. He could not bear it.
She
could not bear it. To be with a man who looked like Robert, only possessing a black beard sprinkled with gray instead of a reddish brown one, which she much preferred? To be touched by a man who shared the same gray eyes but was not Robert? To stand beside a man of similar size, only a bit leaner, a bit taller? To see her husband’s brother and be wretched with longing for him? It could not be done. She could have endured any man in all England but this one.

“Your grace,” she began again, thinking frantically. How could she escape this fate? Lord John was the second most important man in England, after Edward; there was no reasonable excuse for refusing his offer. If she did, he would make a bad enemy, and Edward would be wroth, not to mention how her own uncle would react. “Your grace. I have had much to reflect upon these last few months. After Helen’s death, I — I went into a decline.” She didn’t dare look at Elizabeth. “And I prayed to understand how these sad events could have happened. And, I cannot explain this, but I felt my heart began to be healed.” She hurried on. “And Lady Elizabeth, who contributes much to the maintenance of the abbey at Glastonbury, the dear lady began asking me to read to her. Scripture and religious writings.” Well, she had occasionally read a Christian poem from one of the books. “Lady Elizabeth was moved to do so, I believe.”

“It is true that my lady Imma has read to me almost every evening since she came to Athelney,” Elizabeth said.

Imma shot her a grateful look and continued.

“As you know, my lord Edward, I am barren. I believe that God gave me this affliction for a reason. So that I could dedicate my life to Him, not to a mortal man. I have felt called to join a convent, my lord.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply, then began coughing violently.

“My lady!” Lord John said in alarm. He grabbed a cup of wine from a servant and helped Elizabeth to drink from it.

When she had recovered herself, Elizabeth said, “Imma has had much to occupy her mind this winter. I know she has been torn about her future.”

Edward turned a concerned look on Imma. “My lady, I did not know you were religious. Had you said something, I would never have started negotiating a marriage for you.” Edward, known as the Confessor, was sympathetic and supportive of the religious.

“Your grace, it is only recently that I have felt this calling. That is why I have not expressed it before now. I wish to be sure that it is the right thing to do.”

“I see,” Edward said. He glanced at Lord John, whose face was impassive and unreadable. “Well, there is no hurry. John has come home to stay and I will remain here to talk to Robert at any event.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” Imma said. “I will pray for guidance.”

• • •

The chapel was still and quiet and Imma sighed with relief as she sat in a pew. She had been sure to have Lord John’s eyes on her before she came into the chapel, looking suitably pious, eyes downcast, prayer beads (borrowed from Elizabeth) prominently in hand. She had not acknowledged John, but she had felt his gray eyes on her. According to Elizabeth, John had found Imma pleasing and wanted her for his wife even more now that he had met her.

Her stomach clenched as she remembered how Simon had reacted the same way. If Lord John pressed his case … he was a powerful man, second only to the king.

And she was just a woman. A Welsh noble, to be sure, but to these English that would not mean so much.

Praying did not help her sore heart. She remembered slipping through the chapel door to Robert’s room when he’d been hurt in the forest. She did that now, stopping inside the doorway, her heart pounding, her eyes filling with tears.

Now the hearth was empty, the table bare. She walked to the stool by his bed, and sank onto it as she had that day. Robert. Where was he now? Why did he not return? She picked up his pillow and buried her face in it, inhaling his scent.

She was a fool. He believed she had betrayed him. He would want nothing to do with her. He would come back and be immediately dispossessed from his home. What care would he have for her then? He would have his own future to get. He would not like that she was bound to his brother, but it would secure her future and he would not stop it. Where would he go? What would he do?

What would
she
do?

• • •

“My lady,” Imma said, entering Elizabeth’s room from the chapel door. “Forgive my intruding like this.”

Elizabeth looked up. Her sewing lay unheeded in her lap. She looked all of her seventy years. Imma’s conscience bit at her. Why must she draw an elderly lady into this?

Elizabeth’s voice was hoarse when she spoke. “You are welcome here, child. I am sure you have worn calluses on your knees from praying and would like a diversion.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Imma went to the chair next to Elizabeth’s and clasped the older woman’s hand in hers. “I fear I am not religious. For all I cannot bear to marry Lord John, I can’t take vows to prevent it.”

“I understand,” Elizabeth said. “Many widows my age enter nunneries but I have never cared to do so. I support the Glastonbury abbot and his monastery so that they can do the praying my soul requires.”

Imma smiled but her heart was not in it. She knew what had to be done. “My lady, will you help me escape to Wales?”

Elizabeth’s brow rose in surprise. Then she said, “I suppose ‘escape’ is the word for it. You are sure it is your only choice?”

“If I do not enter a nunnery and I refuse John, he and Edward will be vexed.”

Elizabeth snorted a laugh. “Most assuredly they will.”

“I cannot refuse John and then ask Edward to arrange a marriage for me to some other noble.”

“That is true.”

“But if I return to my uncle, though he will be angry, he will marry me to a Welsh, and all will be well.”

Elizabeth sighed.

“Or as well as can be expected,” Imma added. Then, softly, “Oh, Elizabeth. What I have got myself into! I only hope when I am your age I will be able to look upon this episode of my life with humor and fondness.”

“I hope so, too,” Elizabeth said, but from the tone of her voice, it was obvious she thought it unlikely. “I agree it is wise to return to your uncle. If you cannot marry John and you cannot take vows, I don’t see what else you can do.”

“Then you will help me? You have thanes, loyal to you, perhaps in Glastonbury? To guide a ship across the sea? I cannot manage that on my own.”

“My lady, you surprise me,” Elizabeth said. “I had thought you could manage anything. Yes, I have thanes. When do you plan to leave?”

“The sooner the better. Make the arrangements, my lady. Oh, how I will miss you — and Athelney.”

The dawn broke over Athelney. In the darkness, Imma slipped out of the keep and into the stable. She saddled the palfrey, then tied the small bundle of her possessions to the saddle. Last night, she had kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, and Elizabeth had clasped her hand and promised to tell Tilly how sorry Imma was to leave without saying good-bye. But the fewer people who knew she was on her way to Wales, the more likely she would be to succeed.

Now Imma rode her palfrey along the causeway. Jacob the stable boy was ahead on the hunter he had borrowed from the stable. He had agreed to see her to Glastonbury, where Elizabeth had arranged for the abbot to give her sanctuary, and to hire a shipmaster to take her across the sea.

She was leaving Athelney. She wore the blue dress that Elizabeth had given her for Christmas and the travel cloak that had seen her through all these adventures. She had known she must leave Athelney in spring. Why was it so hard to do?

Robert didn’t want her, and she wouldn’t marry John. There was nothing for her here. And yet, just before he left to fight, Robert had held her in his arms, warm and understanding and she had loved him so much then.

She loved him so much now. It was more than she could bear that he thought so little of her, that he would assume she must be the one who betrayed him.

The healer’s words echoed through Imma’s mind.
He will destroy all things Welsh. He will take his men across the sea and none will stand against him. I have seen this, my lady. I have seen the sea run red with blood.

Her uncle had believed she could make the peace, but she could not. And though Robert accused her of betraying him, his was not the towering rage the healer predicted. He had expected Imma to betray him, and so in his mind she had, and all it meant was he did not love her, not that he would someday avenge his hurt by making the sea run red with blood.

They had reached the edge of Glastonbury forest. Imma paused, looking up at the towering trees. All of the things that had happened among those trees … .

“My lady?” Jacob said. “You need not fear the thiefmen. Lord Robert has destroyed them utterly.”

“I know,” Imma said. She looked at the boy. “It will go hard for you when you return to Athelney and Lord John discovers your role in this.”

The boy lifted his chin. “When I have delivered you safely to the abbot, I will ride to join Lord Robert.”

“You don’t fear the war he makes?”

“I am his thane. I would follow Lord Robert anywhere,” Jacob said stoutly, squaring his thin shoulders beneath his bright blue tunic.

• • •

The day dawned gray and overcast. They had traveled all across Wessex, encountering no signs of the Welsh army — other than the destruction of a village here and there, or a small unit left behind to ambush them, which Robert and his army dispatched readily enough. So he had ordered his men to return to the keep, restless and uneasy, unsatisfied.

When they reached the broad plains north of Athelney, Robert and his retainers found the Welsh army. They stood between him and his keep.

Before he could give a command, Gruffydd and his second cantered to the middle of the field. Usually the soldiers dismounted, tethering their horses away from the field of battle, keeping them safe from injury. The men fought on foot. This was how the Welsh and English had always met.

But the Welsh king had something to say.

Did Robert want to hear it?

A cold spring rain began to fall. He would win this fight. The English must prevail. What need had he for conversation? Deeds and actions, that was what mattered.

What would he say to Gruffydd?
Your niece, or one who claims to be, has sought sanctuary at my keep. If you wish to see her safe home, then lay down your arms?

Imma, who betrayed him. She did not even defend herself or explain herself or say,
What did you expect of a Welshwoman?
She did not demand to know why he would accuse her of such a thing. Imagine accusing Elizabeth of betrayal. Elizabeth would run him through with a sword.

But that was not Imma’s way.
I would have your esteem
she had once said to him.

Why did he think she betrayed him, except that other women had? Had not other men betrayed him? Look at what Osbrycht had done. And yet he did not assume that the second at his side was getting ready to plunge the spear into his back.

Robert stole a glance over his shoulder.

No. His stomach clenched as he thought. He did not like to think. The more he thought, the less he was sure that blaming Imma for betraying him and stabbing Gruffydd through the heart was the best way to end this bloodshed.

The more he thought, the more he knew he had wronged Imma.
Who else could have given plans to the Welsh?
he had demanded. When it could have been anyone. It could have been his steward, Michael, for all he knew. Why did it have to be Imma? Because he wanted it to be, he expected it to be. Because the arrival of the Welsh meant winter had ended and Imma must go and it was easier to see her leave as a faithless deceiver than as the woman he loved. Because if he loved Imma and he could not have her —

If he loved Imma —

He must listen to the Welsh king.

He nodded to his second and they rode out to meet Gruffydd in the muddy field.

“Robert,” the Welsh king said, his English heavily accented.

“Gruffydd.”

“My son, Malcolm.” Gruffydd nodded toward his second. “He was in your care this winter. He and his men escaped, which brings shame to me.”

Robert glanced at Malcolm, whose face was tight with anger.

“I am wealthy enough to ransom my sons,” Gruffydd said.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I have chastised him for his behavior. He offers his apologies to you.”