Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,192

are wrong,” she said. “I shall remember that of you first and always for the rest of my days.” 475

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Fifty-five

Arundel, February 1148

A deliza woke to the sound of soft conversation in her chamber. Beyond the bed curtains pale winter daylight entered the room through the open shutters. A brazier twirled scented smoke towards the ceiling.

She knew she must have slept for a long time, because it had been twilight when she retired exhausted to bed, and now it was plainly morning. She still felt bone-weary—

almost as if she had not slept—but her mouth was dry and her body ached with lying for so long a time. She had experienced bouts of debilitation before, but they had always eased after a short while. This current one, however, showed no sign of ending. It had been two months now, and was growing worse.

“Is there nothing you can do?” Will was asking on a pleading note.

The reply in a slightly higher tone came from Magister Vital, a physician who had been attending her ever since the lethargy had begun. “Sire, it is a wasting disease of the female embers.

Sometimes the fire dies so low in the body that it cannot sustain the energy needed for life and there is nothing that can be done. I have tried to revive the flame with poultices and bleeding to make the blood rise, but to no avail.” LadyofEnglish.indd 476

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“I refuse to believe there is no cure!” Will hissed. “I will not let this happen!”

“It is God’s will, my lord. It is to Him that you should pray for a miracle. For the rest, she should have a regime of peace and quiet and contemplation, with food rich in hot elements to stimulate her humours. Ask others of my profession if you so desire, but they will give you the same answer.”

“Get out,” Will snarled. “What use are you to me if you do not have the skills to make her better? She is my life!”

“Sire, I wish I could help. She is a great and gentle lady.” Tears seeped from Adeliza’s eye corners and trickled into the pillow. She heard the door close behind Magister Vital.

Breathing raggedly, Will went to the window, pressed his head against the wall, and struck the stone with the side of his clenched fist. “I cannot bear this,” she heard him whisper.

“Why her?”

Beyond the window she could hear their children shouting joyously as they played. The sound of their brightness seemed to come from far away and she knew what she had to do. She had had plenty of time to think of late.

Will sighed and, leaving the window, came to the bed and looked down at her with eyes full of anguish and anger. She returned his gaze.

“I heard,” she said, and her voice was hoarse and dry because she had been asleep for so long. “I cannot bear this either.”

“I will not let you be like this,” he said. Leaning over, he put his arms around her and helped her to sit up against the bolsters.

Her stifled gasp of pain made him tense and draw back. “There has to be a cure.”

She gestured weakly to the flagon at the bedside; he poured her some wine and then helped her to drink.

“Look at you. You are not even strong enough to hold a cup.” She swallowed and felt the liquid warm its way down to 477

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her stomach. “I have asked myself what God is saying to me by visiting this curse upon me,” she whispered. “What does He want me to know? What does He want me to do?” She wrinkled her forehead. “Why is He taking my energy back to him while my body is still here? I will willingly give Him my soul if He asks it.”

He made a sound in his throat. “I do not want to lose you.” Adeliza touched his cheek, feeling the burr of stubble under her fingertips and the warmth of his skin. He was strong, healthy, bursting with life, just like their children.

“This is no good for either of us,” she said. “What kind of a wife am I for you, and what kind of example as a mother to our children? I do not want them to see me like this.”

“I will not have you say such things,” he said fiercely. “You will get better.”

“I have been sick for a long time and I am not improving,” she said,