Tomorrow when I woke, she would be gone. The idea of choosing my own housekeeper was appealing. I had no idea how to go about it, but I was sure someone in town would help me. I could always ask Ian—No. Pain squeezed my heart. Ian was gone. I couldn’t ask him anything again. Curled into a fetal position, I fell asleep.
LONDON, ENGLAND
1292
“May I congratulate you on the new prince, Your Grace?” The nobleman smirked ingratiatingly and bowed over the queen’s hand.
Eleanor, queen of England, smiled. “You may indeed, m’lord. He is a lusty babe.” She withdrew her hand and looked up at him curiously. “’Tis been an age since we have seen you at court. Have you come for his christening?”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Northumberland had no idea that the christening of England’s new heir would fall during his visit to London. It had been two years since he’d put in an appearance at Edward’s court. If necessity hadn’t demanded it, he would never have made the uncomfortable journey. The filth and overflowing gutters of London disgusted him. He much preferred the pristine beauty of the north country. But there was no help for it. Border raids had increased at an alarming rate, and if the king did not take action soon, he would lose every horse and cow he owned to the Scots reivers. Edward had not traveled to the borders in a long time. Long enough to have forgotten his rash promise of aid made after that frightening interlude two years before when he’d disappeared and the entire country believed him dead.
The queen had spoken and was waiting for an answer. Northumberland hadn’t heard a word of it. He flushed. It was hardly a fortuitous beginning.
Fortunately Eleanor hadn’t noticed. She was diverted by the appearance of a large, fair-haired man bearing down upon them. “Ah, here he is.” She held out her hand to her husband. “Edward, ’tis Northumberland, come all the way from the borders to witness the christening.”
Edward lifted his wife’s hand to his lips. “How fortunate we are, my dear, to have such a loyal subject. How are you, Northumberland? We haven’t seen you at court in years.”
“Only two, Your Grace,” Northumberland was quick to remind him. “’Tis not wise to leave a stronghold unattended when one lives on the borders.”
Edward had already lost interest. His eyes flickered past his guest to the dancers at the far end of the banquet hall. “Indeed. Have you supped, m’lord? Our cooks have surpassed themselves tonight.”
“Not yet. I’ve only just arrived.”
“We won’t keep you.” Edward nodded and waved the man toward the groaning tables of food.
Eleanor smiled as Northumberland backed away. She turned to her husband and spoke through set teeth. “That was rude of you, m’lord.”
“Was it?” He sounded amused. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Extremely.” Her slippered foot tapped sharply on the wooden floor. “What has he done that you must treat him so shabbily?”
Anger blazed to life in Edward’s eyes and then died again. He sighed. “I need no reason, my love. I am king of England.”
“’Tis hardly an excuse.”
“On the contrary. I find it an excellent one. Just as your rank excuses your waspish tongue, mine excuses me of rudeness.”
Quick tears sprang to her eyes. “Edward,” she pleaded, “must it always be this way between us?”
He frowned. “What in heaven are you talking about, Eleanor?”
“Must you be cruel to me as well?” she whispered.
“I?” He looked genuinely surprised. “How am I cruel? Do I shout at you, starve you, beat you? How can a woman who has everything complain of cruelty?”
“Everything but affection,” she shot back. “Isn’t a wife entitled to her husband’s love?”
Edward beckoned to a servant carrying huge goblets of wine. Lifting one from the tray, he drained it quickly, replaced the goblet, and took another. These encounters with Eleanor were becoming tedious. “I do love you, Eleanor. How can you think otherwise?”
Her lips trembled as she fought for control. Nothing would be worse than public humiliation. “My women tell me otherwise.”
“What do they tell you?”
Eleanor lifted her head and acknowledged the couple gesturing from across the room. “They say you’ve a mistress in every township in England and that your bastards litter the countryside.”
“Is that all?”
Eleanor forgot her dignity. A deep flush rose from the low-cut bodice of her dress and stopped at her cheeks. “Isn’t that enough, Edward? How can you say you love me when your behavior proves otherwise?”
He shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of his wife’s accusing eyes. How did