Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,129

you should not speak ill of him.”

“It is not disloyal to say he had faults. Were you never hurt by the number of bastards he sired on the string of women he took to bed under your nose? Did it never trouble your sleep that he blinded his own grandchildren because their parents rebelled against him? Or the manner in which he manipulated his daughter without a thought beyond his own schemes?” He gave her an exasperated look. “He was great because he was ruthless. Stephen for all his faults would never have done any of those things, and that is part of the reason I follow him. Henry exacted a price from us all, and we are still paying.” He made an abrupt gesture. “Enough. I will take you to Arundel and then I will go to the king and all this will be set to rights.” 320

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Adeliza’s throat was painful with tears. Stephen was inca-pable of setting anything to rights, whatever Will thought, but she held her tongue. Too much damage had been done already.

She pressed her hand to her belly, her emotions a solid, heavy block. “I beg your leave to retire,” she said shakily. “I need to rest.” With a gesture to her women, she left his side and disappeared behind the screened-off partition at the rear of the room where her travelling bed and chest had been set up.

Will rubbed his face and softly groaned. This news was a serious blow to his prestige and to Stephen’s authority.

Chester and de Roumare were half-brothers and similar to the Beaumont twins in their ambitions. They were a disruptive element when at court, and bad enemies to make. Thus far he had managed to avoid involvement in the power play of the Beaumonts and had scrambled his way through the issue of opening Arundel to Matilda while still supporting Stephen.

But now he risked being caught in the riptides involving the Chester faction. If he sank, his family sank too; his wife, much as he loved her, did not understand.

His favourite dog, Teri, padded up to him and licked his hand. He stooped to tousle the silky ears. Dogs were faithful and demanded nothing of you but food, exercise, and affection. Sometimes he found himself wishing he had been born a common kennel boy. Instead he had married a queen and climbed so high on fortune’s wheel that the distance to the ground was dizzying.

ttt

The green wood in the hearth of Lincoln Castle’s great hall gave off gouts of smoke and aggravated Will’s hacking cough as he huddled over what heat there was, feeling decidedly unwell.

The raw damp of the early December weather seemed to have permeated every crevice of the walls, and every joint and sinew in his aching body. He folded his arms inside his cloak and 321

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shivered so hard, he felt as if his flesh might leave his bones.

King Stephen was pacing the room like a caged lion. The half-brothers Ranulf, Earl of Chester, and William de Roumare watched him with steely eyes. De Roumare was playing with his dagger, tossing it end over end.

“Our mother’s family has a hereditary right to the custody of Lincoln Castle,” de Roumare said, jutting out a pugnacious jaw pocked with acne scars. “It should be ours. We have only taken what we are entitled to.”

Stephen whirled, the hem of his cloak flaring at his ankles.

“Lincoln Castle is a royal one even if its constables have served in the past by heredity,” he snapped. “You have no automatic right.” He gave de Roumare a hard glare. The latter sheathed his dagger, but continued to play suggestively with the hilt.

Ranulf of Chester pulled on his long, auburn moustaches.

“Then give us what we are due, sire. We have upheld your reign thus far, but you ignore us at your peril. Would you deny us our patrimony?”

“You have had lands and privileges from me in plenty already, without Lincoln,” Stephen said tersely.

De Roumare pivoted and stabbed his finger at Will. “Why make him Earl of Lincoln and not one of us?” he demanded.

“He is nothing but a jumped-up hearth knight who has ideas above himself because of his marriage to the dowager queen.” Will started to his feet. “You insult me!” he said, his chest burning with the need to cough.

“No more than my brother and I am insulted that you are Earl of Lincoln and claiming the third penny of a shire