Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,11

marriage offers for her from Lombardy and Lotharingia. She had dwelt at court now for almost a year, but time seemed to hang in suspension like a spider’s web between two twigs, waiting for something beyond dust to alight on the strands. He had summoned her to join him and then done nothing about it, as if she were a valuable surety to be held in reserve.

“Matters will move apace once we reach England.” Brian’s placatory tone set her teeth on edge. “You know something that I do not?”

“Domina, I do not, except that there are people there your 29

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father needs to consult on all manner of things. Your uncle King David for one and the bishop of Salisbury for another.” Matilda shot him an exasperated look. “More talk between men. I am the king’s daughter, and my father’s lords have sworn allegiance to me, but it is still as if I have neither place nor voice in the world.”

“But you will have one day,” Brian said quietly. “Now is the time to gather your resources and prepare the soil.” The sound of retching made them both turn to regard a green-faced young nobleman heaving over the side of the ship.

Brian grunted. “I doubt he’s really that sick,” he muttered,

“unless it is with vexation.”

Matilda considered Waleran de Meulan. He had been an instigator of a failed rebellion in support of her cousin William le Clito and had been held prisoner in Normandy for the past two years. That he was not currently in fetters was because he had no means of escape. Her father had deemed it unwise to leave him behind and Waleran was set to continue his captivity in England in the custody of her father’s justiciar, the bishop of Salisbury. He was the son of one of her father’s most trusted servants and had a twin brother, Robert, who had not been involved in the uprising. Matilda was well aware that preparing her soil would involve deciding how to deal with men such as this from powerful families, who preferred to back le Clito as rightful ruler of Normandy and England, rather than her father’s line. Waleran de Meulan might look pathetic and ineffectual just now, but he was still a dangerous man.

Leaving Brian, Matilda joined Adeliza, who was sitting against the side of the ship wrapped in warm furs and buffered from the strakes by thick fleece-stuffed cushions. Against the deep colours of squirrel and sable, Adeliza’s face was a wan oval and she was biting her lip. Matilda wondered if she was worried about the sea crossing, but surely she had made it often, and 30

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she was not naturally timorous. Perhaps like Waleran she was suffering from the effects of the heavy swell. Several people were ill, although none were making quite as much noise as the lord of Meulan. Then Matilda realised that her stepmother was crying.

“Madam?” Matilda looked round to call for help, but Adeliza gripped her arm.

“It is nothing,” she said.

Matilda sat beside her and tucked some of the fur coverlets over the top of her own cloak. “What is wrong?” Adeliza swallowed and wiped her eyes on her mantle.

“My flux is upon me,” she said in a low voice. “I thought…I thought this time I might have held on to the child. It has been forty days since last I bled…but it has come. It always comes.” She rocked back and forth with her head bent. “Why can I not fulfil this duty? What have I done wrong for God to deny me?”

Matilda set a comforting arm around Adeliza’s shoulders. “I am so sorry. I grieved the same when I was married to Heinrich.”

“I would be a good mother,” Adeliza whispered. “I know I would. If only I had one chance. Just one. Is it too much to ask?” She compressed her lips as William D’Albini picked his way over to them, his balance steady despite the freshening wind. Stooping, he handed a flask to the women.

“Honey-sweetened wine and ginger, madam,” he said to Adeliza. “It is a good remedy if you are feeling unwell. My aunt Olivia swears by it. The waves are heavy today.” Matilda eyed him suspiciously, but his expression was open and he seemed to genuinely think Adeliza was suffering from mal de mer. She thanked him on Adeliza’s behalf in a voice that encouraged him not to linger. He took the hint, his complexion flushing, and,