Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,98
she had risen from her knees, she was still praying now. “God help me in this,” she whispered. “Help me to heal my heart and do the right thing.” She was still uncertain about becoming a wife and mate again. At the time, she had not fully appreciated how Matilda felt when she was sent to marry Geoffrey of 243
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Anjou, but now she understood a little more, and it wasn’t a comfort, because she had seen what had happened to Matilda and Geoffrey’s marriage.
She took a step, and then another, watching her shoes appear and disappear beneath the flaring hem of her silver silk gown.
This was the path God wanted her to take, or else He would not have sent Will to her. He was a good man, even if he was loyal to Stephen. It was up to her, with God’s help, to find a path through this. Will had promised her days of peace and offspring to fill them. The notion of the latter both spurred her forwards and held her back. She was desperate to conceive and at the same time terrified she would not. Fifteen years of being a barren wife to a man who had been siring bastards almost until the moment of his death had flattened her expectation and left her with terrible scars.
Will was waiting for her at the church door with the barons and knights of the Albini household and a host of gathered wedding guests, including the king. The bishop of Worcester was present to conduct the ceremony, his surplice shining as white as a gull’s breast in the sunlight and flashing with thread of gold. Head high, eyes downcast, Adeliza made herself keep walking.
Will stepped forward to take her hand in his and, as in the garden at Wilton, she felt the warmth and vitality emanating from him and surging into her. When she raised her eyes to his, the intensity of his stare was almost too much to bear. Henry had not once looked at her like that.
“You will always be a queen,” he said, his gaze leaving hers to rest upon the delicate crown set upon her veil of light silk.
She felt herself blush like a girl despite being a mature woman of five and thirty.
The marriage took place outside the church door in full public view, and then the guests entered within to celebrate 244
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the wedding mass. Many of the same people who had attended her marriage to King Henry were present now. The same faces had been at Reading for his funeral, but she would not think of that. Today was a time of celebration.
At the formal feast following the mass, she accepted the congratulations of the guests, and wished she were somewhere else. She wondered if the smiles on people’s faces were genuine.
Were they happy, or was it just an act for them too? When they turned their backs did they still smile?
“I am pleased for both of you,” Stephen said, kissing her on either cheek. “William D’Albini is a fine man and you will be well protected by my new Earl of Lincoln. Eh?” He gave Will a slap across the shoulders.
Well guarded was perhaps closer to Stephen’s meaning, she thought, concealing her antipathy behind a wan smile. Well, they would see. He might have Will’s oath of fealty under his belt, but he did not share his life, his bed, and his board as she was about to do. She looked into Stephen’s face. His geniality was strained and his features wore new lines of tired experience.
Perhaps he was discovering that wearing a crown was a heavier burden than he had expected. Perhaps he did not sleep well at night. Whatever he did, he would never fill Henry’s shoes in terms of ability. “Indeed, sire,” she said.
Stephen’s wife, Maheut, small and dumpy, kissed her too.
“Life will seem very different to what it was before,” she said.
“But I know you have the fortitude to adapt.” Adeliza murmured a bland reply, her stomach tightening.
Once Maheut’s power had been hers as queen of England, but now it was all diminished. Of the things particularly dear to her that had been taken by this small, tenacious terrier of a woman, the patronage of Waltham Abbey was still the main hurt. Maheut now had it as a reigning queen’s privilege, and Adeliza no longer had the influence to fight that corner.