The healer had given her herbs to chew which
would settle her stomach but she had thrown them down the garderobe
when she had seen how it was between the lord and the woman who had
brought him back to life. She was angry that this tall, ill-dressed
peasant had captured Longsword’s interest. Obviously, it was
because of her that Longsword no longer came to her chamber. Gladys
had no idea what to do.
When one of Lady Teleri’s servants knocked on
her door with a summons from her mistress, Gladys was already
red-eyed. When questioned, she admitted to a great deal of
unhappiness with her lot. When pressed, she confided her fear that
Longsword was no longer interested in her. She felt only the
slightest tremor of shame in speaking her innermost concerns to
Teleri; she was desperate for advice or guidance, even from someone
who had no reason to pity her.
Teleri listened and thought it was all going
to be much easier than she’d imagined. She surveyed the bloated,
sickly-looking girl before her and suppressed a desire to kick her
stomach to see if there really was a baby inside it or if it would
merely deflate as Gladys herself had deflated into gasps and sobs
when she spoke about Longsword.
She encouraged the other woman. “You know I
keep mostly to my rooms but even I’ve noticed this infatuation of
my husband,” she said. “And the servants! They can’t stop talking
about it. Every day someone brings me another story. He’s making a
fool out of himself!”
Gladys sniffled miserably.
“
She’s
making a
fool out of him, my lady. What’s so special about her? She isn’t
the least bit attractive.”
“He isn’t much to look at, either,” Teleri
said equitably. “However, are you quite certain Gwalaes has
anything to do with this? From all reports, she seems to keep a
discreet distance and since her child arrived I don’t think she’s
spoken to him.”
“But that’s just a game, my lady! It’s an old
game and nothing but a snare to entrap him!”
She sounded so confident
that Teleri suspected she spoke from experience. “I see,” she said.
“Well, she
did
save
his life…”
“But I carry his life inside me, my
lady!”
Teleri considered the trembling, hysterical
woman before her. Gladys was desperate to hold on to Longsword.
Desperate enough to do anything? “I wonder…” she murmured.
“Yes, my lady?” Gladys said eagerly.
“Well, I’m just thinking
that if Gwalaes’ spurning of Lord William serves to make Lord
William want her badly, then perhaps the same might prove true
if
you
spurned Lord
William.”
“But I can’t do that!”
Gladys protested. “What if he didn’t care? Where would that leave
me? And with
this
?”
She covered her abdomen with her hands.
“That’s precisely the point, can’t you see?
Your child is the one thing he cares about more than you or
Gwalaes. He knows he’ll never get one on me but—” Teleri’s eyes
narrowed “—just imagine, Gladys; what happens to you when he
finally succeeds in making Gwalaes pregnant?”
Gladys gasped. Her face turned white.
Teleri was pleased with herself. She didn’t
know how intelligent Gladys was. Smart enough to manipulate
Longsword into her bed but not smart enough to keep him there.
Somewhere in between. “Can’t you see, Gladys?” she added
persuasively. “He needs you, if only to make sure he gets his
son.”
“And he’s got me, my lady!
The problem is, he doesn’t want me—he’d rather have
her
!”
“But if you weren’t here, he wouldn’t have
you,” Teleri said quietly.
Gladys was suddenly still. “What do you
mean?”
“We agree he wants the baby, correct?
Illegitimate, born of a servant, he doesn’t care…he only wants his
child. So, if you were nowhere to be found, how do you think he’d
react?”
“He’d be frantic, my lady.”
“Of course.” Teleri smiled. “He’d have
searchers out every minute of daylight combing the hills, the
caves, the shoreline…He’d have nothing on his mind but you, Gladys.
Not even that chit Gwalaes. Nothing would be so important to him as
finding you. Don’t you think that’s true?”
Gladys nodded vehemently. “But where could I
go, my lady? I don’t know any place—”
Teleri waved her hand unconcernedly. “Oh,
that’s no problem at all! I know places. Just think, Gladys: when
he finally finds you, he’ll fall all over himself to be kind to
you. He’ll treat you better than he ever did. You’ll be able to
lord it over Gwalaes. Wouldn’t that be a sweet revenge?”
“Oh, yes, my lady—”
“Just leave it all to me, Gladys…”
“Where’s Bronwen?”
Eleanor jerked into full consciousness. She’d
been leaning against the stone wall, eyes closed and face tilted
towards the morning sun pouring down on the kitchen garden, and
lulled by the warmth and the relative silence of the spot had felt
so drowsy she hadn’t heard Alan’s footsteps.
“At this time of day? More likely than not
hovering around the ovens, waiting for the new bread.”
Alan laughed and put his own back against the
wall next to hers. “She isn’t shy at all like you, is she, Lady
Eleanor? Nor is she quiet and cold like the earl. She is rather
like…”
“Like my brother? Is that what you want to
say, Alan?” The knight glanced guiltily at her but Eleanor gave him
a small smile. She closed her eyes again and went on, “I suppose
there is a similarity. Bronwen is friendly as Robert was, and
everyone seems to like her immediately. But Robert was also
manipulative and selfish and I’ve never seen that kind of behavior
from my daughter. She is open and honest. And too easily impressed.
She’s in awe of all the fine things she sees here—and fine people.
She is in love with Lady Teleri.”
“Then she’s the only one!” Alan shuddered.
“It’s no wonder Lord William turned to another.”
“Mmm…Gladys. I’ve told her many times what to
do when she feels ill but she never seems to listen.”
Alan looked sideways at her. “Perhaps it’s
because she’s jealous of you.”
Eleanor’s eyes flew open. She couldn’t have
been more surprised if d’Arques had just confessed that he was in
love with her. “Pardon?”
“Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed it, Lady
Eleanor!”
“Noticed what, Alan?” she said so sharply
that he straightened up and twisted his torso in her direction.
“You know, Lady Eleanor—the way Lord William
looks at you. The way he was so concerned about Bronwen. The way he
agreed to this peace with Llanlleyn because you asked it of
him—”
“I never asked any such thing! I only said
Mother Abbess was anxious to avoid more death and destruction! As
for Bronwen, he made a vow that he’d return her to me even when I
said I would ransom her from Llanlleyn with my own self!”
He shrugged. “We were surprised when he gave
up his plans for Llanlleyn,” he told her. “He feels certain Gladys
will give him a son and he had decided to carve out a patrimony for
him.” He kicked at a stone. “Besides, there’s precious little to do
in this place, Lady Eleanor. We were looking forward to the
contest.”
“You said ‘we’. I thought only Sir Richard
blamed me for Lord William’s decision… Anyway, Lord William’s mind
is his own to make up. I had nothing to do with it.”
“That isn’t the word going round the men,
Lady Eleanor,” Alan said. “It’s generally agreed that Lord William
is so in love with you that it’s befuddled his mind. Anyone who
knows him knows he would never have decided on peace on his
own—”
She flushed angrily. “You men gossip like the
chattering girls whom you constantly deride for gossiping! You are
all wrong! If Lord William feels kindly towards me it’s only
because I healed his wound and nothing more! I would appreciate it,
Alan, if you would put a stop to these rumors!”
He looked at her curiously. He’d never seen
her so angry; she’d always been even-tempered, shy and quiet. It
had been left to Gwalaes to make any argument or demand or defense
that needed to be made while Eleanor hovered in the background. He
nodded. “Very well, La—Gwalaes.”
He was no longer looking at her but at a
point just beyond her shoulder. She whirled around. Bronwen was
skipping up the narrow path separating the garden beds, Kigva close
on her heels and Richard Delamere bringing up the rear.
“Mama!” Bronwen shouted happily. Eleanor
smiled despite her mood. Her daughter was finding the experience of
Rhuddlan exciting and wonderful; in two weeks she had yet to
express the desire to return home. “Sir Richard asked me to find
you!”
“Lord William would like you to attend
Gladys. She’s complaining of cramps,” Delamere told her. As usual,
he did not look pleased to see her but now she suspected it was for
the reason Alan had just given her…
“I’ll come,” she answered briefly but when
she started forward, he moved slightly in front of her so that she
could not pass.
“I find it strange,” he said in Welsh, “that
you learned Norman French from the sisters at the abbey yet Bronwen
is completely ignorant of the language. Even though she appears to
be an exceptionally intelligent child.”
“Bronwen is young…”
“My son is slightly younger but still he is
able to greet me in my own language.”
“You must be very proud of him!” she retorted
and brushed past him. He was so surprised by the unexpected heat
that he let her go without another word.
Chapter 29
April, 1177
Rhuddlan Castle, Gwynedd
Eleanor played Alan’s words over and over
until she was forced to admit to herself the truth of them. She
noticed it now not so much by Longsword’s own actions but by the
way everyone else at Rhuddlan treated her. Suddenly she noticed
people giving her long looks. They stopped talking when she walked
by or they started whispering furiously. Gladys refused to have
anything to do with her no matter how uncomfortable her condition.
Delamere was curt.
It was the last thing she wanted. Although no
man had ever before expressed a romantic interest in her and she
was somewhat flattered by it, she was also very much aware that
what William Longsword had in mind could only harm her. Even if he
were sincere, what kind of relationship could they expect? He was
married and he thought of her only as some low-born chit. What
could he possibly want from her other than that which Gladys—and
who knew how many others—had already given him?
While she didn’t fear him physically as she
had her husband, she was nonetheless frightened because he would
not let her leave Rhuddlan. Twice she had asked; the first time
just after Maelgwn had gone and the second time when Alan had
opened her eyes to the situation. On both occasions he had
politely, even regretfully, refused. It was necessary, he had told
her, to wait and see that the peace would hold. He’d had a message
from Llanlleyn. Maelgwn had recalled his son from the prince’s
court but Rhirid was no longer there. Dafydd, to punish him for
instigating the attacks on Longsword and on the abbey of St. Mary,
had sent him and his men to put their aggression to better use in
another part of Gwynedd. There was no knowing when he would
return—and whether he would accept the peace his father and
Longsword had negotiated.
Besides, he said to her, there were many more
people at Rhuddlan than St. Mary’s. Couldn’t she put her healing
talent to work in the castle just as well as at the abbey? Whatever
she needed, he would provide.
She didn’t dare argue with
the king’s son. She contemplated fleeing Rhuddlan as she had fled
Chester. Why not? she thought. She owed William Longsword nothing.
He had given her back Bronwen but she had saved his life.
Bronwen…Could
she
travel on foot all that way to the abbey? Would she even want
to leave? Where
did
that child disappear to, anyway?
Kigva’s frenetic barking led her to the
stables. The scraggly dog was dancing around a group of laughing
men which included Richard Delamere and Alan d’Arques. The reason
for their good humor was soon apparent to Eleanor: precariously
balanced on an unsaddled stallion was her missing daughter.
Delamere was holding onto the little girl’s leg and she in turn was
holding onto the animal’s mane. It was all Eleanor could do to keep
from screaming.
The men were smiling and giving Bronwen
encouragement. Delamere’s voice was calm as he instructed her on
posture. But everyone stopped talking when they saw Eleanor—except
for her daughter, who called out a cheerful greeting.
Delamere told Bronwen to let go and slide
into his arms. He swung her to the ground and she ran to Eleanor,
excited by her adventure. He had the grace to look guilty but said,
“There was no danger at all.” He slapped the horse’s shoulder.
“This one’s my own and he’s gentle as a lamb.”
“He’s fifty times larger than a lamb, Sir
Richard!” she said angrily. “And it wouldn’t matter how gentle he
is if he happened to be suddenly spooked, would it?”
“It was Bronwen’s idea,” Alan d’Arques tried
to explain. “She wanted to sit on one of our horses. She’s utterly
fearless.”
It was obviously a quality the men found
amusing in the child. They smiled and looked indulgently at her.
Eleanor wanted to knock their heads together. She supposed next
they’d be teaching the little girl how to wield a sword.
She considered the men for a moment; they
were waiting for their horses to be saddled and brought out.
Reluctantly, she dismissed the idea of leaving Rhuddlan on her own.
If Longsword were so inclined—and obviously he was if he refused to
allow her to go—his knights would find her in no time.