Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,66

not want me in England.”

“No.” She almost shuddered.

He came to her and began to remove her garments, his touch as delicate as a woman’s. “Give me free rein in Normandy until our sons are of age,” he said, his voice persuasive and smoky with desire. “And I will gain our castles and deal with your father and prove my worth to you.”

“And what worth would that be?” She felt the familiar coils of reluctance and craving snake through her body. “First you ask for castles, and now you seek a duchy.”

“Is it wrong to be ambitious? Do you not desire a kingdom?” He cupped her breast and rubbed it through her chemise, stroking his thumb across her nipple until her flesh stiffened and she gasped.

“It is my duty,” she said.

“Ah yes, duty.” He drew her to the bed. “But duty and desire can sometimes be bedmates, no? I will show you what I am worth.”

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Twenty

Winchester, Hampshire, October 1135

H enry of Blois, abbot of Glastonbury, bishop of Winchester, picked up the large ruby sitting on the trestle and held it up to the light for a moment, before handing it to his visitor, Roger, bishop of Salisbury. Outside a chill autumn rain was steadily falling, but here in Henry’s private chamber, a warm fire and hot spiced wine were keeping the cold and damp nicely at bay.

Salisbury examined the gem with an acquisitive eye. “How much is this worth?”

Henry shrugged. “It depends on the value the owner sets upon it, and what its function is going to be. Perhaps it might decorate a cup, or embellish a reliquary.” He studied his folded hands for a moment. “Perhaps it might be used as the centrepiece for a new crown.” He fixed Salisbury with a knowing stare. “I leave you to do as you will with it. I need not know the fine details.”

Salisbury drew his purse from beneath his robes and dropped the jewel inside. “Of course not, my lord,” he said, returning the look. “But you will want to be told the outcome in due course.”

Henry took to fiddling with the small bust of a Roman emperor he had picked up in Italy a few years ago while LadyofEnglish.indd 165

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visiting the pope. “Of course,” he said. “I will be waiting in Winchester to hear.”

“And your brother?”

“Stephen is close by Wissant. He knows to ride the moment he receives a messenger from the court. Martel will make sure to inform him. Everyone of consequence knows their place and what to do.”

Salisbury nodded. “But Stephen has no notion?” Henry snorted. “Stephen’s conscience is tender. He wants the meat without seeing the blood, so I have spared him that.

Do not worry. I can deal with him—and Theo.” Salisbury pursed his lips. “It still never does to underestimate anyone.”

“I don’t,” Henry replied.

He saw his visitor on his way. Walking past the rain-drenched gardens, Salisbury paused to study the marble statue of a man clad in sweeping layers of fabric and a muscled breastplate. He was posed with one arm raised in mid oratory and his bare gaze was fixed on the horizon.

“Julius Caesar,” Henry said.

“Some might cavil at your pleasure in decorating your home with pagan images,” Salisbury remarked, brows drawn together.

Henry thought that the old man was probably secretly admiring his statues and plotting how he could obtain a few himself for either the palace at Salisbury, or his castle at Devizes.

Certainly if his mistress knew, she would want one, the acquisitive bitch. “Indeed, some might, but I pay them no heed. There are always those who complain at the slightest opportunity, as well you know. I bought these in Rome, the city of the pope, where people have them in their homes and gardens as a matter of course. Rome once had a great and powerful culture and these statues spur me on to the service of England. Julius Caesar might not have been a Christian, but he was an emperor.” 166

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Salisbury grimaced. “So you gain inspiration from him?”

“I do, my lord, but of course never as much as the Church.

My greatest duty is to God on high.”

“Indeed,” Salisbury said and walked ponderously into the courtyard, where an attendant had brought his horse.

“Who knows, perhaps one day we will see you installed at Canterbury.” He heaved himself into the saddle with the aid of a mounting block and a boost up from an attendant. “I will set this business in motion