Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,77

with their heads in the air usually don’t see the shit on the ground until they tread in it.” Brian grunted with reluctant amusement. “You noticed it too, my lord?”

“One always has to be wary of factions at court,” Miles replied.

“If I were you, I would put in appearances when necessary and find reasons to spend time on your lands.” Brian nodded. “I have thought for a while that I should attend more to my affairs at Wallingford. The buildings need supervision and repair and my wife complains that she never sees me.” He had to swallow a grimace at that. “What of your own affairs, my lord?”

Miles rumpled his thinning sandy hair and gave a taut smile.

“Being a soldier, I like to know all is in order. Sometimes you have to strike swiftly, as our new king has admirably demonstrated, and sometimes it is wise to be cautious. My lord of Gloucester is doing the latter just now.” He glanced in the direction of Stephen, who was flanked by the Beaumont brothers, Bigod, and the bishops of Salisbury and Winchester.

“But he will have to come to terms one way or the other. For myself, I will wait and see what kind of king has been bought for us while I mourn the passing of a truly great sovereign. I doubt you or I will see his like again in our lifetime.” ttt

“Madam,” the nun said, and gestured through the open door into the chamber that had been prepared.

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Adeliza gazed round as she stepped over the threshold. The room was sparse, but sufficient to her needs, and it was clean.

A smell of fresh limewash filled the air and when she touched the wall, the paint came away on her fingertips in a moist white smudge. Braziers had been lit to warm the room and aromatic smoke curled gently towards the rafters. The bed had a rope frame and a down mattress covered with a close-woven linen sheet, a bolster and two large, soft pillows. This was all she needed. Somewhere tranquil to retreat and pray and come to terms with the vast changes in her life.

For fifteen years she had been queen of England, the consort of one of the greatest kings in Christendom. Now all that was stripped away. She had her dower estates and her lineage, but no longer was she the hub of the domestic court. She had been little more than a child when she married Henry. Now she had to discover the woman within the girl, and if that involved becoming a nun, so be it. There were so many things in the world that made her want to turn her face from it and look inwards to a life of contemplation. She would write to Matilda; she would do what she could to support and comfort her, because she still had a stepmother’s responsibilities, but beyond that, she would embrace the life at Wilton and see that the adjoining lazar house at Fugglestone flourished. She would put away her sleek silk gowns and be humble before God, and in the fullness of time, God would show her what He wanted of her.

ttt

Matilda squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and pushed for all she was worth in a final effort to expel the baby from her womb.

Beyond the walls of the great keep at Argentan, the July heat was stultifying, and although the thick stone kept the worst of the heat at bay, her hair was plastered to her skull with sweat and her body shone as if she had been anointed. As always, the labour had been difficult and she had sent numerous prayers and 192

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exhortations to the Blessed Mary, asking her to help her safely deliver this third child. Geoffrey had spent most of the last few months on the battlefield in a campaign tent; now it was her turn to fight.

The senior midwife told her not to push, but instead to pant.

She did so and felt a stretching soreness between her legs, and then a sudden gushing release. An instant later the woman held up a wailing, slime-covered infant. “A fine boy,” the midwife said with a beaming smile. “Madam, you and your lord have another son.”

Matilda lay back against the bolsters, spent. “Geoffrey wanted a daughter this time for his marriage policies,” she panted, smiling at the same time. “He will call me contrary, but I doubt he will complain further than