The Traitor's Wife (29 page)

“They are very beautiful, Uncle.”

“Aye. But what do you see?”

“Well—stars.”

“So do I, now. But I used to be able to see Piers's face in every one of them. Now I can't unless I am blind drunk.”

“I was looking for it tonight in his little girl, Joan. In Margaret.”

“Joan was too little when he died; she never knew him. Margaret—I used to see it in Margaret's. But she no longer cares for him, does she, Nelly?”

“No, Uncle.”

“I knew it.”

“Do you see his face in Damory's? Audley's? Montacute's?”

“No. I have tried so hard to see it there, Nelly. So hard.” He absently stroked her hair. “These marriages had to take place; if your sisters were not married to men I could trust, like your Hugh, there would be sure disaster. And Audley and Damory deserve your sisters; they have been loyal to me. But I wish to God I had not come to this wedding.”

“I know, Uncle. But you have not forgotten him, and that is all that counts.”

He lay beside her so quietly for a while that she thought he had drifted off. Then he said, “But this was our favorite thing to do as boys, and as men. What you and I are doing now, rowing a boat at night with the moon sparkling on the water. And tonight I think I can see his face in yours—a little bit. Thank you, Nelly.”

They lay there in silence, and Eleanor shut her eyes, listening to the water sounds around them. Finally, the king stirred, gently moving his arm from beneath Eleanor, and found that his niece was fast asleep. He took off his cloak, draped it over her, and rowed back to whence he came, but when he came by the castle, he kept rowing. He would not be a witness to the dreaded bedding ceremony where another man took possession of the woman who had once been Piers's.

Only after an hour or so more had passed did he return to the mooring spot by Windsor Castle. Hearing no more sounds of revelry in the distance, he secured the rowboat and looked down at his sleeping niece.
Nelly
, he thought,
I lied to you. There is one face in which I can see Piers's, and it is driving me mad. How much longer can I resist?

And there the face was, waiting at the dock. Fear and worry had sobered Hugh le Despenser. “Your grace! 'Tis my Eleanor. She was last seen heading in this direction with you. Have you seen her?”

The king pointed toward the bottom of the boat. “My apologies, Hugh. She wished to go for a ride in my rowboat—and so did I.” He stepped out of the boat, making room for his nephew by marriage to climb inside.

Hugh gently nudged the sleeping figure. “Sweetheart?”

Eleanor opened her eyes and stared at him in some confusion. “Hugh? The king—” Her eyes opened wide with horror. “Hugh, you must not think—”

Hugh laughed. “My dear, with any other man or any other woman I would be livid—but with you and the king I have no doubt that the two of you did nothing more than ride in this boat together. Perhaps at Elizabeth's wedding, he'll have you thatch a roof with him.” Too late, he looked around, but the king was fortunately nowhere in sight. He helped her alight. “The brides and grooms have been safely bedded, my dear. Shall we lie down ourselves?”

For an answer, she kissed him.

They would be making love very shortly, Edward knew, either somewhere on the grounds or in their chamber. And it was the greatest source of misery to the king that morning as he made his solitary way to Windsor Castle that he could not decide which pained him most: the thought of her making love to him, or the thought of him making love to her.

T
HE LORD AND LADY OF GLAMORGAN WERE ON THEIR WAY TO THEIR NEW home. Despite a series of catastrophes besetting the kingdom—relations between the king and the Earl of Lancaster had broken down completely, and Lancaster had seized lands belonging to the Earl of Surrey and Roger Damory—the Clare lands had at last been partitioned. Eleanor and Hugh had received lands in Glamorgan, Somerset, Surrey, and Ireland, with other lands in Berkshire, Buckingham, Gloucestershire, Oxford, and Worcestershire to come to them upon the death of the Countess of Gloucester. Retainers had been dispatched to Somerset, Surrey, and Ireland to take possession, but Glamorgan was the jewel of the Clare estates, and no sooner had the order been signed by the harried king than the Despensers were packing for the trip to Wales.

Her three youngest children, Isabel, Edward, and even little Joan, heaped with furs, were riding in two chariots with their nurses, and Gladys was riding in considerable state in a chariot by herself, being a very ample lady and of an age where she needed to stretch her legs. Hugh's sister Bella, of whom Hugh had always been fond, had been invited along, accompanied by
her
ladies, though unlike Gladys they were mounted on horseback. Her little girl, Margaret, joined Eleanor's youngest children in the chariots. The Hastings boys, Thomas and Hugh, rode alongside Eleanor's own Hugh. All three boys were well beyond riding in the baby carts, as they dubbed them, and when not comparing the merits of their horses, they were casting derisory looks at Isabel and Edward, who were old enough to feel the insult.

Hugh the elder had come, needless to say. Of the travelers on the last leg of the trip to Caerphilly Castle, he alone looked perturbed, for Hugh the younger had been confiding in him during the journey to Wales. “The king has given me not only the Clare estates, but Dryslwyn and Cantrefmawr for life,” Hugh had said cheerfully. “I think it was a mark of affection for my lovely Eleanor, and perhaps a bone for making us wait so long for the partition. But there's one drawback. The lordships of Wentloog and Machen are to be fully separate from Glamorgan; they're to go to that puppy Audley. But they've always been part of Glamorgan! The tenants won't stand for that.”

“The tenants, Hugh?”

“They will want to retain the liberties and privileges that the rest of the men of Glamorgan have. I shall have to discuss the matter with them.”

“Hugh!”

But his son had trotted over to the three boys, leaving Hugh the elder with nothing but his sense of unease for company. Fortunately, his daughter and daughter-in-law were riding up behind him, and as neither of these ladies had ever given Hugh cause for concern, he was soon laughing as Eleanor and Bella tried to teach each other the smattering of Welsh they each knew. Hugh shook his head at Bella's attempt. “So far, child, if you were a man, you would have only succeeded in getting yourself challenged to mortal combat. You've just called Eleanor there a horse thief and a scoundrel.”

“But I meant to tell her what a beautiful robe she was wearing. And Thomas taught me that, he said he had it straight from my stepson John—” Bella whirled. “Thomas de Hastings! You saucy creature! If I could get this horse near you, I would—”

Hugh the younger, guessing what his nephews had been up to, called, “Best stick to French, sister dear.”

Eleanor laughed, thinking as she did that it was strange she knew so little of a land where she, after all, had been born, in the great castle of Caerphilly where they now were headed. It was another bond with her uncle, who had been born in Caernarfon. Perhaps, she thought, the Despensers would get on well with their tenants. But in her heart she knew that such a hope was tenuous. The Llywelyn Bren revolt was still fresh in men's minds, and the very building of Caerphilly Castle by her father a half century before had been a source of anger to the Welsh. However fine the red-and-gold Despenser banners and horse trappings and chariot hangings might look to Eleanor and her companions, to the Welsh they were the marks of yet another English intruder.

Power in Wales, however, lay not with the Welsh people but with the Marcher lords, one of which Hugh had just become. Eleanor's stepfather, Ralph de Monthermer, who had been styled Earl of Gloucester after his marriage to Joan until her death and who had assisted Joan in managing her lands, had told Eleanor, “Your husband had best conduct himself circumspectly in Wales. The Marcher lords are used to fighting for their rights, and they'll not take kindly to any intrusions upon them.”

“Why would you think he would not conduct himself circumspectly, Lord Monthermer?”

Ralph had shrugged and resumed the game of chess he had been playing with Lady Hastings.

As the Despenser party, red and gold banners flying, neared the castle, the three boys drew their reins abruptly and stopped, awestricken. “Papa! Is this ours?”

Hugh ruffled his eldest son's hair. “Ours indeed, and yours when I meet my maker. Quite a sight, isn't it?”

It was indeed. Gilbert de Clare, Eleanor's father, had built his castle to serve notice on the Welsh and any other comers that he was not to be trifled with, and few approaching Caerphilly Castle would be so inclined. Gilbert had cut ditches so as to put the central part of the castle on an island, which was surrounded by lakes, also man-made. To get to this inner island, one had to go through a daunting series of walls, dams, gatehouses, islands, drawbridges, moats, and lakes, and the inner island had its own gatehouses to keep out intruders.

Hugh and his Hastings cousins were bouncing in their saddles as they observed all these features. “We can sleep
here
tonight!”

“And
here
tomorrow night!”

“No,
there
!”

Hugh took Eleanor's hand as her horse trotted up beside his. “We're home, sweetheart.”

Every member of the party, even Hugh the elder, was secretly longing to explore the castle, but the adults at least were denied this luxury, for their more important tenants had lined up to greet them, and they of course had to be fed in the great hall, along with the staff Hugh had brought, the staff the king had left, and the staff that had hurried up ahead of the rest of the Despenser party to smooth the transition. Sitting in her place of honor, Eleanor could only watch with envy as her eldest son and the Hastings boys took off for parts unknown, followed, to their great dismay, by Isabel, whose nurse then had to follow as well to make sure nothing untoward happened to her charge. Edward and Joan had already been taken to the rooms that had been assigned to them. At long last, however, the meal ended, and Eleanor and Hugh, trailed by Hugh the elder and Bella, were able to begin their tour. It was as much a tour for Eleanor as it was for the others, for she had been but a babe when her parents had occupied the castle, and she and her sisters had stayed in England when Joan and Ralph de Monthermer made their visits to it.

“Your chamber, my lord and lady.”

Bella and Hugh the elder had tactfully retreated to the rooms assigned to them by the time the exhausted chamberlain unlocked the door. Hugh smiled as the man started to push it open. “Thank you,” he said. “You are excused.”

He lifted Eleanor in his arms and carried her over the threshold. All was ready, Eleanor saw—their bed with all its trappings, a fire glowing in a fireplace, wine and two gold cups sitting on a table, even her birds hanging in their cages. But it was only the bed that mattered to the couple.

“What was that absurd vow the king made back when we were knighted?” Hugh mused as they lay tangled together some time later. “That he would never sleep in the same place two nights in a row until Scotland was conquered? Eleanor, I vow that I will never rest until I have had you in every castle and manor we own.”

“Even the Irish ones, Hugh?”

“A vow's a vow, my lady.”