To Defy a King (10 page)

His father gave a distorted smile. 'It is a little late for that. A betrothal is a binding promise to wed and annulment would be fraught and difficult - not that I desire such a thing.' He stroked the fur collar of his cloak. 'The Marshal has written to say he plans to go to Ireland once he's obtained the King's permission. His wife's dower lands in Leinster must be brought to heel. The Countess will need their income to support herself should anything happen to him, and I would guess he is considering his mortality after his recent illness.'

Hugh refilled his cup. 'How does that affect us?'

Roger smoothed the soft squirrel pelts. 'The Marshal is not taking his eldest daughter. He wants her to stay in England and he's requested that her marriage to you be solemnised - preferably before Lent.'

Hugh stared at his father in dismay. 'That's only two months away!'

'The girl will be almost fourteen years old. Her family say that she has begun her woman's courses, but she is still too young for child-bearing.

They have requested we guard her chastity until her fifteenth year day.'

'And a marriage without consummation is one that can still be dissolved,'

Hugh said.

'It is something to be aware of, I agree, but they are taking as much of a risk as we are,' Roger replied shrewdly. 'William Marshal wants his daughter kept safe and is asking us to be her guardians. A year is not long to wait and you will have time to come to know each other before you share a bed, which is all to the good while she learns our ways.'

Hugh thought of the brunette-haired child to whom he had made his betrothal vows two years ago. He could imagine cajoling the lass and teasing her in the same manner he did his younger sisters, but the notion of courting her, let alone sharing a bed for procreation, was like a foreign language.

'The King might well refuse his permission to let the Marshal go to Ireland.'

'Indeed yes. It will not be to John's taste to have him meddling there and upsetting his interests. The Countess is Irish royalty. Knowing John's suspicious nature, he might think the Marshal intends to carve himself a kingdom there.'

'Do you think he intends that?'

His father looked thoughtful. 'I believe the Marshal wants to be away from John and pursuing his own projects because they have been too long neglected, but there has to be balance between one's own desires and what the King will tolerate. We have been fortunate thus far, but that is because we have kept within the bounds of John's acceptance and not roused his suspicions.'

Hugh pondered his father's words. The Marshal must think there was a strong possibility of gaining royal permission or he would not have written to them about the marriage. 'And if we decline Earl William's request?'

'I do not believe it is in our best interests to do so. William Marshal is no fool. He needs us, but he also knows the value of this marriage to us. No other great men have daughters of comparable stature. We'll need to keep our eyes open and our wits about us, that's all.'

Going to the hearth, Hugh crouched to spoon himself a bowlful of hot broth.

'I thought after his illness the Marshal might do something like this,' his father mused. 'A prudent man should look to the future and the security of the next generation.' He eyed Hugh knowingly. 'You've been well educated on the domestic side by your mother and sisters and doubtless you have learned plenty more about women in your own private dealings. I expect you to be able to handle Mahelt Marshal should the marriage be brought forward.'

Hugh used sipping his broth as a good excuse not to comment.

'She'll have her own chamber at Framlingham, of course. The solar in the old hall can be refurbished as her quarters while she receives guidance from your mother and learns our ways.' Devouring a ginger pastry, Roger headed to the door. 'Longespee will be gone soon enough,' he said. 'I trust to your good sense to keep the peace.'

The face Hugh pulled made his father chuckle before he went out. Hugh sat down on the hearth bench to finish his broth. The notion of an imminent marriage left him nonplussed. He was going to be landed with the responsibility for a young bride. A child who was neither his sister nor his daughter, and who must be kept chaste in the eyes of all. He groaned.

Longespee had been through a similar situation with Ela, and would likely have some sage advice, but Hugh had no intention of asking him. He knew if he did, Longespee would behave like a tutor trying to educate a witless dolt, rather than a brother and a friend.

He looked up as the door opened again and his mother came softly into the room. Her delicate features were anxious. 'Are you all right, my love?' she asked. 'I was worried when I heard you had taken a fall.' Setting her hand on his shoulder, she kissed his cheek.

Hugh forced himself to smile. 'Yes, Mother; there's no lasting harm.'

'I do hope you and William can patch up your differences before he leaves. I hate to see the pair of you fighting.' Her soft brown eyes were troubled.

'You are brothers when all is said and done.'

It was too much to swallow without a retort. 'Then perhaps he should remember it. If Ralph or William or Roger fell down a slope and couldn't climb back up, I wouldn't abandon them to go off and hunt deer. I'd go myself and bring a rope.'

'He has apologised,' she said on a pleading note. 'I don't think he realised that you couldn't get out.'

'Oh, he realised, Mother.' Hugh bit his tongue. She was utterly blind where Longespee was concerned, and since that blindness was caused by her guilt and remorse at being forced to give him up as a baby, she would never recover her sight. He sighed. 'Very well, I will speak to him - for the sake of peace and diplomacy - but do not ask me to do it out of brotherly love.'

She kissed him again. 'Thank you, I'm proud of you. Has your father spoken to you about Mahelt Marshal?'

'Yes, he has.'

Dimples appeared at her mouth corners. 'It will be so good to have a young girl around the house again. I miss that kind of company now that your sisters are married. She will be without her own family, so we'll have to become her family instead.' The smile faded slightly. 'There's going to be a great deal to organise if there's to be a wedding so soon after Christmas.'

Hugh could tell from the far-away look in her eyes that she was making mental tallies of tablecloths and napkins, goblets, salvers and the like. Then she shook herself and refocused. 'Are you coming to join us in the hall? We need your voice for the singing.'

Hugh hesitated. He had not intended to do so, but if he lurked here, he would only seem churlish and unable to take blows like a man. 'Very well,' he said with a resigned sigh, and the way his mother's face lit up filled him with a mixture of pity and exasperation.

In the hall, a space was waiting for him on the bench by the fire and he was greeted with cheers and toasts and bonhomie. Longespee did his utmost to welcome him, even pouring him a cup of spiced wine rather than getting a servant to do it - something unknown. Hugh suspected his half-brother realised he had gone too far and was now attempting to make amends.

At first, Hugh had to force himself to smile and respond, but as the evening wore on and the singing grew fervent, he mellowed. His voice, rich and full-toned, was far superior to Longespee's and rang out for all to hear, while Longespee had to make do with joining in the chorus. It was a small thing, but it made Hugh feel better.

10

Framlingham, January 1207

Hugh knelt beside Mahelt in Framlingham Castle's chapel to receive the sacrament. He had set a wedding ring on his new wife's heart finger, spoken his vows, and endowed her with the nine manors of her marriage portion.

She was very young, but not quite the child he had been envisaging. She had grown considerably since their last encounter and was taller than his mother.

Her wedding gown of subtle silver-green silk enhanced her recently developed curves and showed off a figure that was lissom yet strong.

Hugh was perturbed, wondering how he was going to deal with her. It was a huge responsibility and a new stage in his life for which he was unprepared, and although the instructions concerning his conduct towards his bride were strict, the situation left much opportunity for confusion and conflict. She was his wife but was not expected to fulfil a wife's duties; she was a woman but she was still a child. She was to be treated like a guest, yet she was also a full member of their household. Aware of Mahelt's father looking on, Hugh was over-conscious of every word he said and every action he performed, lest it meet with disapproval. It was almost like being an adolescent again, when he had been his own man for several years.

The wedding party emerged from the chapel and processed across the ward to the new hall which had been decked in evergreen and ribbons to mark the occasion. Trestles dressed in snowy linen lined the perimeter of the room and brightly clad musicians and players waited to entertain the guests during and between the various courses of the marriage feast. Mahelt's parents were leaving at dawn on the morrow to return to Striguil and prepare their departure for Ireland; thus the celebrations, although colourful and magnificent, were not to be a protracted affair.

Diversions and dancing were held between each course of the feast and Hugh and Mahelt were the focus of attention as they stepped and turned in a marriage carole, their feet crushing underfoot the herbs with which the dried rushes had been strewn and releasing brief moments of lavender and rosemary. Mahelt flashed swift looks and smiles at Hugh. Her eyes intrigued him for although they were dark, their hue was mutable and it was like looking into a dye-pot with all the deep colours swirling and changing. Her hair, long and loose to proclaim her virginity, shone the colour of polished oak and was as lustrous as damask silk. She was a little shy, but she was not uncertain. This girl knew her worth.

They both danced with other wedding guests, and Hugh found himself partnering his mother-in-law, the magnificent Isabelle de Clare.

'I am glad we are leaving her in safe hands,' she said to him as they met, parted and turned. 'It is one less burden for us to carry across the Irish Sea.'

Hugh bowed to her. 'She will be precious to everyone at Framlingham, my lady mother.' Calling Isabelle 'mother' made his face burn, not least because he was still rather smitten by her.

Isabelle looked amused. 'I wanted you for her, you know,' she said. 'I am glad my husband was of the same mind.'

Hugh cleared his throat, feeling like a tongue-tied squire. 'I shall do my best to care for her, my lady.'

Her smile was warm. 'I know you will.'

The dancing continued. Hugh partnered his mother who was tense behind her bright exterior, anxious that matters should progress without mishap. He reassured her that all was well and made her laugh by twirling her around on his arm. His sisters, Marie and Marguerite, both married, offered him a glut of matronly advice. Do this, don't do that, be attentive but do not crowd her.

Give her presents, but don't spoil her. Eventually Hugh managed to escape to the company of his sister-in-law Ela, Countess of Salisbury, who was resplendent in a gown of blue silk embroidered with little golden lioncels.

'You are kin to me on both sides now,' she teased. 'Halfbrother to my husband, and now cousin by marriage through your wife.'

'I'm glad of the bond,' Hugh replied, and meant it, because whatever he thought of Longespee, he was genuinely fond of Ela. 'Do you have no words of wisdom for me today?'

She gave him her very sweet smile. 'Surely you have already endured a surfeit of those!'

Hugh chuckled. 'I certainly know all the things I am not supposed to do, although I'm in no danger of being near enough to my wife to be put to the test. I've hardly had a chance to speak to her and I'd not know what to say if the opportunity did arise.'

'Trust me, you would.' She patted his arm. 'My own wisdom, for what it is worth, is to let everything unfold in its own time.'

Hugh snorted. 'The timing thus far has been well ahead of me, but I'll try to keep abreast of where I'm supposed to be.'

Longespee arrived to claim his wife with a possessive hand. Hugh made a few stilted comments to his half-brother and excused himself to go in search of his bride.

There was no sign of her in the hall, or outside. A guest who had over-indulged was vomiting into the winter-sparse rose trellises against the wall. Shaking his head, Hugh crossed the courtyard to the old hall where Mahelt had been given her lodgings, climbed the outer stairs to the solar chamber and opened the door.

Mahelt was sitting on the bed, cuddling the strange little three-legged dog she had brought with her from Striguil.

Looking up, she drew a swift, short breath. 'I . . . I came to check on Tripes.'

Her cheeks were as bright as rose-hips. 'He's been shut in here a long time.'

'Indeed you must make sure of the dog's welfare,' Hugh said gravely. 'I know everything is strange just now, but I hope you will grow accustomed.'

'Yes,' she said, with doubt in her eyes.

He gestured round. 'You can arrange this room just as you desire. Everyone will do their best to welcome you.'

She gave him a serious nod. 'Thank you.'

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Richard Marshal put his head round the door. 'They're looking for you, Matty.' His glance darted between her and Hugh.

'Can I not even visit my dog without everyone hunting for me?' She glared at her brother. 'Am I to have an audience even in the privy?'

'Quite likely,' Hugh said with a straight face. 'Tongues and opinions are busier today than flails at threshing time.'

She rose to her feet and lifted her chin. Bidding Tripes stay, she walked to the door like a queen, her silver-green gown shimmering like water. Then Hugh saw her surreptitiously pinch away tears with her forefinger and thumb and felt a pang of compassion. Poor lass. She didn't even have a haven where she could go for a good weep to release her tension. In silence, he stood aside and courteously ushered her before him. 'Perhaps it would be better if you escorted your sister to the hall,' he said to Richard.