The queen smiled contemptuously. “Despite your years, you really are a child, my dear. Edward will tire of you. He is a man, after all. Where will your child be then when he has found someone younger and the sight of you is an embarrassment?”
It was a question Mairi had asked herself more than once. Bitter tears had wet her pillow for many a night when she learned that Eleanor was again with child. The queen had already given her lord three healthy sons. There was no excuse for Edward to return to his wife’s bed, no excuse except lust. Looking at her rival’s pale, gilt-colored beauty was like a knife thrust deep into Mairi’s heart. “What is the nature of your bargain?” she asked.
Eleanor pulled a stool close to the bed and sat down. “Your daughter is beautiful,” she began. “She should be a princess. I have only sons. Give me your daughter, Mairi, and return to Scotland. Wed with a man of your own race and give him sons and daughters of his line. I shall raise Edward’s daughter as my own. No one will know she is bastard born.”
Mairi’s face paled to the color of polished marble. “You would take my child?” she whispered. The horror of such a possibility had not yet become clear to her. “How could you manage such a deception? Everyone will know.”
Eleanor shook her head. “No one, not even Edward, knows of my child’s death. The midwife is discreet. She will tell no tales.”
“Dear God,” Mairi moaned. “You actually mean to do this.”
Leaning closer, Eleanor spoke clearly and carefully. “Think on it, Mairi. Your daughter will be raised in the royal house of England’s king. I shall betroth her to France or Spain. She will be a queen. What would she have with you but the shame of her birth? Where will she find a husband? Mark my words. Edward will not always be king. One day my son will reign.” She ran a gentle finger down the baby’s rose-petal cheek. “With me she will have everything.”
“What of love?” Mairi’s voice cracked with the memory of her own motherless years. “What of a mother’s love?”
Eleanor’s lip trembled. Her eyes were overly bright. Her gaze moved over the beautiful, thin-boned face of the woman her husband loved. “Never fear, Mairi of Shiels. She will have a mother’s love. I was prepared to take her even if she resembled you. It is almost as if God Himself had a hand in this. Why else would he give you a child who is the image of Edward?”
Mairi opened her mouth to speak, but Eleanor held up her hand. “Do not decide before you see Edward. He leaves for Falkirk within the week to fight the Wallace. I’m sure he will visit you before he undertakes the journey.”
Bile rose in Mairi’s throat. The news had shocked her into silence. William Wallace was the hope of Scotland, her country’s last desperate cry for independence. She stared at Eleanor with wide, accusing eyes.
Slowly Eleanor nodded. “You are not stupid after all,” she said. “There is no reward for you, Mairi, no matter who is the victor at Falkirk. Do not condemn your daughter to such a life.”
Mairi found her voice. “Edward will know. He has already seen the child.”
Eleanor laughed bitterly. Edward had not yet bothered to visit his legitimate daughter. “You little fool,” she whispered. “How innocent you are. Surely you know that Edward’s bastards litter the countryside. Tell him the child died. He’ll not recognize her when I return to London and present her as his legitimate daughter. Think carefully, Mairi. Timing is most important.” She took one last look at the baby before leaving the room.
“I’ll not do it,” whispered Mairi to the walls. “No matter that she is the queen. She cannot make me give up my daughter.” Leaning back against the pillows, she closed her eyes and thought.
If Edward died, she would return to Traquair and raise the bairn alone. No, that wouldn’t do. The daughter of Edward the Hammer would not be safe in Scotland. Why not remain here and live quietly on the estates Edward had given his daughter? Perhaps they would be safe there. Mairi’s heart sank as she thought it through. Eleanor would rule as regent. There would be no peace in England for her husband’s mistress. With growing desperation, Mairi discarded one flawed solution after another. Was there no help