Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,17

for the moment he is keeping many doors open.”

“He will expect her to breed sons…” Maude’s voice strengthened on the last two words and her expression grew set and forceful.

43

LadyofEnglish.indd 43

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

Brian excused himself before she could begin a long and tedious monologue on the matter of bloodlines: he had business to see to. His constable William Boterel brought him up to date on recent building projects. He examined the seasoned oak delivered for strengthening the castle doors and inspected the store rooms; he discussed supplies and the necessity of providing secure accommodation other than a dungeon for Waleran de Meulan, who was to be kept here as a closely guarded “guest.” He visited the garrison soldiers and talked to them, then retired to his own chamber to ponder various tallies and charters until the dinner hour. Not once in that time did he think of his wife.

When they met in the great hall to dine, Maude had finally changed her gown for a clean one of plain green wool and she wore a full linen wimple in the English style that framed her wide, round face. Her cheeks, forehead, and chin were rosy as if she had given them a good scrub. As they ate roe deer with wheat frumenty and assorted fungi, she talked to him of the minutiae of her daily existence; he let her conversation flow over him and tried to think of it as soothing rather than as dull as stodge. Maude was a good woman and without their marriage, he would not have all this wealth to call upon. She ran his household well and provided a refuge from the steely sharpness of the court. Here life was predictable and grounded; he did not have to listen to and measure every single word.

He told her about Waleran, and that he was to be kept at Wallingford until the king deemed him safe to release. “I have told William to see to the ordering of a suitable door with bars and locks. He’s to be kept under strict house arrest until the king decrees otherwise.”

She looked at him in surprise, but without trepidation.

“What a shame,” she said. “Why do men fight over things that do not matter? When the hens stop laying or there is murrain among the sheep that is far greater cause for concern than who 44

LadyofEnglish.indd 44

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

sits on the throne. I remember Waleran de Meulan when he was a foolish boy too young to grow a beard.”

“Now he is a foolish man,” Brian said curtly. “He should not have dabbled in rebellion, and now he is reaping the consequences.”

Maude tutted and, with a shake of her head, passed a scrap of meat under the table to Rascal.

As evening fell, Maude leaned towards him and laid her capable, alewife’s hand on his sleeve. “Husband, will you come to bed?” There was no seduction in her voice; the request, although spoken in a low voice for privacy, was matter of fact.

“Yes, in a moment,” he said with a sinking heart. “I have a few charters to look over first.”

“Good, then I will expect you. I will take the dogs out while I wait.” She left, calling her entourage of canines to heel and bidding a servant bring her cloak.

Brian retreated to his chamber. Sitting down in his chair he massaged his temples where a slow headache had begun to pound. It had been a long day. Eventually he picked up his quill and, drawing a sheet of parchment under his hand, wrote to the abbot of Bec, and then to the bishop of Bath. The motion of the quill across the parchment soothed him, as did the intellectual flow of his thoughts. He sometimes wondered what would have happened if his father had dedicated him to the Church instead of giving him to the king to be raised at court. Would he have found religious vows hard to keep?

Perhaps, but then many clerics made a mockery of such, and lived in the lap of luxury and power with their mistresses and offspring—witness Roger of Salisbury and his castle at Devizes and his palace at Salisbury.

His work completed, he went to open the shutters and look out. He could hear Maude calling to the dogs, jollying them along in her brisk, deep voice. She would have been a fine 45

LadyofEnglish.indd 45

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

mother to a brace of sons, he thought, and felt a surge of melan-choly. Even