Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,175

him.

“I mean it,” he said with intensity.

She gave him an assessing look and pursed her lips. A feeling of recognition settled in her stomach. She knew how he felt because she felt that way too, and it was as if the spark had passed one to the other.

She turned at a sudden touch on her arm, and faced her 432

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brother Robert. At the sight of his grave expression, her pleasure vanished. “What is it?”

Robert’s gaze flicked to Henry and back to her. “Prepare yourself for bad tidings,” he said.

“How bad?” Her arm was still around Henry’s shoulder and she cupped her hand protectively. “Has Stephen…?” Robert shook his head. “It is nothing to do with Stephen.

Miles FitzWalter is dead, God rest his soul.” Matilda stared at her brother in shock. “How?” Miles was a senior commander and good friend. He had opened Gloucester to her when she first came to England. He was a constant. He couldn’t be dead.

“Hunting deer,” Robert said. “One of his own knights shot wildly and struck his lord instead of the stag. He died almost instantly.”

“I should have kept him at court,” she said, feeling sick. “He would have lived then.”

Robert shook his head. “You could not have prevented this.

If you set a fence around him, he would have broken out. He lived his life as if it was one long hunt.”

“But such a waste, God rest his soul.” She crossed herself and her voice shook. “He was a brave man and a loyal vassal.” And how will I replace him?

Robert looked at Henry who had crossed himself too. “Do you remember Miles FitzWalter, lad?”

“He gave me sword lessons,” Henry said, his eyes wide. “He promised to take me hunting.”

“Thank Christ he did not.” Matilda resisted the urge to hug him to her breast. How vulnerable they all were. Who knew when death would strike and scatter all their plans like straws on the flood?

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Fifty

Bristol, March 1144

Matilda patted her mare’s neck and inhaled the dank air of late winter as she trotted along a forest path with Brian. Ahead Henry cantered along on his grey pony, dogs running at his side as he chased small game through stands of oak, ash, and elm, their branches stark and black in the early spring afternoon. Various members of the court rode ahead and behind and the atmosphere for once was relaxed and informal.

Earlier in the day, Henry had jointly witnessed a charter to Humphrey de Bohun and another to Reading Abbey.

Matilda had come to Bristol to celebrate Easter and discuss Henry’s education. His progress thus far pleased her greatly and although times were difficult, his presence had put new heart into their cause. Henry’s charm, his fierce energy and obvious deep intelligence had won over her own supporters and convinced them that this was indeed their future king. Watching him yell and spur faster, she smiled with pride at his fearless vitality, and tried not to think that he might take a tumble.

“He rides better than I did at that age,” Brian said.

She glanced at him. He looked weary, with deep lines carved in his cheeks and seaming his eye corners. In the pale light his complexion still wore winter’s indoor grey. She was concerned for him. He had recently been sick with a heavy cold. They LadyofEnglish.indd 434

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were all exhausted from the long drag of war, and this time of year was never easy with its endless dark days and sparse rations. The evenings had started to draw out, but as yet there was no sign of spring greenery to alleviate the grey. She had intentionally come on this ride to raise her spirits and sweep away the cobwebs. “I wager you were a fine boy though,” she said to him.

He raised his brows. “What do you mean by that, domina?”

“I imagine you were as active as my son and ranged far and wide before my father took you into his household.” The lines at his eye corners deepened, but in the direction of a smile. “Yes, I did enjoy roaming free, and even at your father’s court I was allowed to do so. He let us all off the leash now and again. He knew how to train unruly pups, did your father.” His expression sobered. “Of course, in those days anyone in the land could roam free in safety and not be bothered. It was a different world when your