of something more complex and disturbing. Her eyes were the grey of lavender flowers but clear as glass and they had met his with steady challenge, and even contempt. He did not see what this 17
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ageing knight saw, but he did not know her. What he had seen was truth and integrity, and it was as if she had taken a sharpened quill and written those words indelibly across his skin.
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Three
Tower of Rouen, Autumn 1125
T he gale had blown itself out, and a calm sun sparkled on harnesses and trappings. Matilda’s red silk gown gleamed in its light, as did the sleek ermines lining her cloak and the jewelled coronet securing her white silk veil. The citizens of Rouen had turned out in force to watch her arrive and she had her knights distribute alms and largesse in her name while the heralds rode ahead with their fanfares and proclama-tions that here was the dowager empress of Germany, the king’s daughter. Her heart filled with triumph and pride as she rode through the midst of the cheering crowds, and although she carried her head high with proper dignity and pride, she also smiled as much as was appropriate.
Brian FitzCount’s horse, Sable, was a spirited beast, but well schooled and mannerly. FitzCount himself rode a sturdy chestnut cob that was slightly too small for his long legs, but he was obviously pretending not to notice. Following the previous day’s mishaps, there had been no further difficulties and all had run to plan. She was not yet ready to give him the benefit of the doubt, but was prepared to wait and see.
As they entered the precincts of the ducal palace on the banks of the Seine, her horse flicked its ears and pranced, responding to her tension. It was almost sixteen years since she LadyofEnglish.indd 19
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had last stayed here shortly before her betrothal. Her memories were hazy ghosts of the past flitting among the solid stones and cobbles of now.
A groom hastened to take her bridle. Drogo dismounted to help her down, but Brian FitzCount was quicker to offer assistance. As he took her hands, she noticed that the ink stains were still there, with some fresh ones to boot; he had obviously been at work in his tent after he left hers, and she approved of him for that. It was almost comforting to think of him busy and watchful in the dark hours of the night while others slept.
A tall, broad man came striding towards her with arms outstretched. She stared at him for a moment in perplexity, and then the ground shifted under her feet and the past melded with the present as she recognised her older half-brother. “Robert?” she whispered, and then again in a full voice, “Robert!” His dark blue eyes lit with welcome as he grasped her hands and kissed her on either cheek with hearty warmth that yet managed to preserve public decorum. “Sister! Have you journeyed well?”
“Most of the way. My mare went lame yesterday.”
“I wondered when I saw you up on Brian’s Sable.” He glanced at Brian. “I trust he looked after you?”
“To the best of his ability,” she said with a straight face.
Brian raised his brows and Robert chuckled. “That sounds ominous.”
“I was late to the meet,” Brian said, “and last night’s gale made pitching the tents awkward to say the least. I thought we were all going to be blown to Outremer!” Bowing, he excused himself to make sure that Matilda’s baggage was borne to her chamber.
Robert sobered. “You can trust Brian with your life. I’ll go surety for him. He’s also one of the cleverest men in our father’s entourage.”
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“I will take your word for it,” she said, smiling. Robert was her senior by twelve years and had been a young adult when she went to Germany, but the rapport between them was immediate. It was like donning a favourite garment that had been put away in a chest for years, and feeling the comfort again.
“I hope that whatever Brian has done to offend you, you won’t be too harsh on him.”
“He has not offended me, and he has a very fine horse.
Everything is unsettled, that is all.” Her half-brother gave her a compassionate look as they walked towards the tower entrance. “I am sorry you are here in bereavement. I wish these were happier circumstances.”
“Indeed, thank you, and I do deeply grieve