Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,198

would tend to them between their prayers and devotions, providing food, water, and sleeping space. Some pilgrims, like himself, would come to bathe in the loch, believing it had healing properties.

Arriving at the shores of the loch, Brian shed his robe and alb, removed his shoes, and, shivering in the cool early May air, waded into the icy water. The shock of the cold was like a knife and seized his breath, but it was exhilarating too. He ducked his head and sluiced himself again and again until he grew accustomed to the cold. Then, neck-deep, he stood to pray.

Since arriving on the island, two months ago, the terrible dreams had diminished. He only woke in a cold sweat one night in four, and no longer felt the necessity of wearing the hair shirt under his robe. His daily immersion in the pure, icy waters of the loch had cured the abrasions and sores caused by 489

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the shirt, and it felt good to be cleansed. Each day when he bathed was an affirmation of his new life and a step away from the old, like a repeated baptism. At midsummer, he would take holy vows and shed Brian FitzCount, lord of Wallingford, as if casting away a threadbare cloak.

Eventually he left the water and dried himself vigorously on the rough towel he had brought with him, and then put on his clothes. As he tied his belt, he glimpsed the ink stains mapped in brown ink on forefinger and thumb. Even the water in the loch could not erase those. A faint smile curved his lips and then was gone. When he had finished his daily tasks and prayers, he would write her a letter, and he would not burn it…and when that was done, he would be completely free.

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Fifty-six

Le Petit-Quevilly, Rouen, Autumn 1148

T he leaves had begun to turn with the shortening of the year, casting the world in shades of tawny, amber, and soft pale gold. The air was still, the sky a hard, clear blue, and residual summer warmth still clothed the sun. In Rouen, at the ducal retreat at Quevilly, Matilda had been sitting in conference with her husband and her eldest son, and now their business was almost finished.

Geoffrey rose from the table and stretched his limbs to ease the kinks. He had matured in the years of her absence from a young Adonis to a golden man in his prime. Soon he was returning to Anjou to deal with rebellious vassals while Henry stayed in Normandy to prepare for his return to England with men and supplies to continue the fight for his crown. Matilda was to act both as a regent for Normandy and as an administrative and diplomatic bridge for all their lands. She would rule and advise from Rouen, and continue to cultivate the Church and bring it as much as possible under their influence.

Geoffrey gestured round the room. “So you intend to settle here,” he said to her.

She returned his look with an arched brow. “I certainly do not intend returning to Anjou.”

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He gave a wry smile. “Good, because I have no intention of asking you to do so. I meant here at Quevilly; you know I did.”

“Is the answer not obvious?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “When you went to England, I missed you badly. I am no longer ashamed to confess it. No one else would stand up to me as you did. No other woman would fight me into bed and give as good as she received.” His eyes gleamed at the memory. “Not once did I best you, even when I thought I had. I can look back on that time without anger now. What matters is the future.” She was a little thrown by his admission because she had been expecting him to make a barbed comment, when instead he had given her a kind of compliment, while being pragmatic about where they stood now. He needed the gravitas of their marriage to bolster his standing in the world and her confidence rose as she realised she was more vital to him than he was to her.

“I will see you generously provided for,” Geoffrey said.

“You need but ask.”

“Would that you had said such things in years gone by,” she said tartly.

He lifted her hand and kissed her wedding ring and then mouth in a hard salute that left their lips dry but tingling. “You