Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,126
Matilda were to be represented by intermediaries, and Stephen had appointed his wife to speak as his—a shrewd move that stole a march on the opposition.
She reached the end of the room and flung round. “Where is the right in allowing Stephen’s wife to negotiate on his behalf, while I may not speak?”
“It is the role of a queen to be a peacemaker,” Brian said.
“And Stephen has nominated her to represent him. We can do nothing about that.”
“Hah! With my ‘beloved’ cousin Maheut in charge, the LadyofEnglish.indd 312
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outcome is a foregone conclusion. You won’t prise her jaws off the throne.”
The atmosphere between them bristled with tension and was broken as Matilda exhaled on a hard breath and waved her arm in a gesture filled with angry dismissal. “If because of this
‘sacred tradition’ I am barred from attending in person, I expect you and my brother not to yield an inch of ground.” He rubbed the pink scar at the side of his eye, legacy of the fight to take down the Crowmarsh siege towers that had threatened Wallingford. Miles had commended him at court as a fine compatriot in battle, but whenever the subject arose, Brian shrugged it off, and moved on to other things. “You can trust us, domina.”
“Can I?” Her tone was weary and sceptical. “I sometimes wonder if I have any trust left to give.” ttt
Brian shifted his buttocks on the bench and folded his arms as he listened to Robert of Gloucester advancing proposals for a peace that would end the fighting. He knew Stephen’s party were unlikely to agree to them, but the suggestions were not outrageous and Robert’s eloquence lent weight and credibility to the argument.
Stephen’s queen, Maheut, was leaning forward in her seat with a pained expression on her face as if she was struggling to hear what Robert was saying, her attitude patronising and authoritative. Beside her, dwarfing her own chair, stood an empty throne as a reminder that, even without his presence, the king was a part of the process and would see and hear all.
Maheut was small and sturdy, with close-set shrewd eyes set beneath heavy, dark brows, her prim mouth concealing small, pearly teeth. Matilda often called her a terrier and the comparison was apt, but beyond his amusement at the analogy, Brian knew her tenacity was dangerous. She was utterly loyal 313
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to Stephen, and her brisk, motherly manner engendered loyalty in others. When with Stephen in public, she kept her eyes lowered and her mouth closed, cultivating the persona of a modest, submissive wife, but Brian suspected it was a different matter behind their bedchamber door.
The empress had no such maternal image to temper her own abrasive nature. If she thought a man was a fool, she said so to his face in front of others, and gave no quarter. She was tall, slender, beautiful, desirable—like a mistress, and while few men would ever strike their mothers, he knew many who would take a fist to a mistress, or leave her for another woman.
“You ask the impossible, my lord,” Maheut said to Robert.
“My husband is an anointed king, elected to his throne by the barons and bishops of England. He will neither share power with your sister the Countess of Anjou, nor acknowledge her claim.”
“She is the only surviving legitimate child of my father,” Robert asserted calmly. “All swore to her before they ever swore to your husband. Moreover, she is the only claimant born of a reigning king and queen, and she is owed that respect and acknowledgement.”
“Her father absolved his barons of that vow on his deathbed,” Maheut replied with equal firmness. “We could argue that point all week and get nowhere. We might concede the dower castles in Normandy that the Countess of Anjou was granted on her marriage, but the Countess would have to quit England, and all warfare in Normandy would have to cease forthwith.”
“You cannot grant what is already acknowledged as belonging to the empress,” Robert said. “My sister has a right to England’s crown and the coronet of Normandy. She will settle for rule in Normandy while her son grows to manhood, and in the fullness of time, he will inherit England. To that end, he will be brought here and the barons will swear him their allegiance.” 314
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Maheut sat back, hands gripping the finials of her chair.