Chapter 43
June, 1177
Hawarden Castle, Gwynedd
When Hugh had attempted to divert Haworth’s attention from their Welsh neighbors to the south by angrily proposing he seek out Rhirid ap Maelgwn and force him to hand over Olwen as promised, he hadn’t actually expected Haworth to succeed. The man would have to avoid meeting the Bastard and then somehow find Rhirid’s fortress without the benefit of a guide. When, two days after this scene in his chamber, Hugh learned that Haworth had gone off with a pair of soldiers who were fluent in Welsh, he’d been not only struck once more with a sense of guilty acknowledgment of Haworth’s incredible loyalty but also guilty relief, imagining his captain would be out of the way for some time and he would now be free to entertain Ralph de Vire as often as he liked.
But Haworth had had phenomenal good fortune and was back at Hawarden in four days, which not only ruined Hugh’s plans but created a problem: what to do with his new hostages. He’d probably looked as shocked as they had when he’d met them down in the ward, disheveled and exhausted from the journey. The Bastard’s wife, he noted, had lost most of her haughty self-possession along the way; she was blessedly silent as a result.
He pretended a polite interest later that evening as Haworth smugly related the story of their capture but he was really trying to play out the situation in his mind. What did it mean to the Bastard that his wife was now in the hands of his old enemy? Would he be angry enough to come against Hawarden? Would the confrontation begun at Dol finally conclude? The more he thought about it, the more Hugh liked the idea of a physical conflict with Rhuddlan.
“What do you suppose the Bastard’s wife was doing at Llanlleyn?” he asked Haworth abruptly.
“Trying to escape,” Haworth replied and laughed, flushed with his success and quite a bit of celebratory wine. “At least, that’s what the Welshman we intercepted told us. He was taking her to the prince.”
“The prince?” Hugh repeated sharply. “Not to the Bastard?”
“The prince.”
That was a stroke of luck, he thought. He wanted to remain on good terms with Dafydd; although he believed the prince’s influence was slight, his access to fighting men made him a good ally. Haworth’s incessant worries over Gruffudd ap Madog had infected Hugh to a certain degree, even if he would never admit it.
Haworth was watching him expectantly. He smiled. “Well done, Roger,” he said. “I think you’ve shown our erstwhile comrade who’s in charge. If I’d known it would be so easy for you, I would have told you to take a score of men. Obliterate the place…”
“My lord, we can!” Haworth took an eager, if not unsteady, step forward. “Now we know the way—”
Hugh couldn’t help laughing. “You would leave right this moment if I said the word, wouldn’t you?”
“You know I would do anything you ask, my lord…”
The force of emotion behind the words struck Hugh in the pit of his stomach but he kept the smile on his face. “Yes…But Rhirid ap Maelgwn no longer concerns me, Roger. How do you think the Bastard will react when he learns that I’ve got his wife?”
When it came to military matters, Haworth’s mind was sharp. He saw the implication of Hugh’s question immediately. A grin slowly twisted his lips. “I’d say he’ll be very happy, my lord.”
Hugh raised his eyebrows. “Happy, Roger?”
“Yes, my lord. He’ll see a chance to come against you and hopefully finish you off—this time without any interference from the king. He was fairly itching to attack you at Rhuddlan, my lord. Only propriety held him back. This time, nothing stands in his way.”
“I agree.” He added casually, “Do you see why it was so important for Sir Ralph and I to discuss Rhuddlan and Lord William to such great length? Although I couldn’t have predicted your skillful contribution to my feud with the Bastard, I knew sooner or later we’d meet again. I wanted to be ready.”
All animation left Haworth’s face. “Yes, my lord,” he said stiffly.
Hugh stood up. “Well, we’ll speak more about it tomorrow, Roger.” He yawned. “I’ll retire now.”
“My lord, would you like me to accompany you?” Haworth asked, following him to the door. “Perhaps you have further questions about Llanlleyn and what we saw there…”
Hugh paused on the threshold. “I appreciate the offer, Roger, but I’m tired. Must be age. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
“Good night, my lord.” Haworth’s voice was so low, Hugh barely heard it. Lately, Haworth’s devoted-dog behavior prompted one of two responses in him; one was irritation and the other—the one he felt tonight—was acute remorse. But he found the more physical distance he put between Haworth and himself, the more the feeling lessened, and by the time he reached the door to his chamber, he wasn’t thinking of Haworth at all, only the younger man who waited on the other side.
Teleri was awakened by a sudden burst of warm sunlight on her face. Her eyes closed against the brightness, she lay unconcerned for a moment, reveling in the comfort of the plump mattress and soft pillows and feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. It was, she thought drowsily, so nice to be home again; perhaps, in celebration, she would spend the entire day in bed. She certainly deserved the respite from the world after the harrowing experiences of the past several weeks. Especially that encounter with the putrid, spitting man and his incessant cough—
She opened her eyes in alarm, all at once aware that she’d never made it to the Perfeddwlad, that instead she was at Hawarden.
“Are you awake, my lady?” a voice asked hesitantly.
A young woman stood at her bedside, simply dressed and attentive. “I’m to wait upon you, my lady,” she continued. “I can help you with your toilet now, if you like.”
Teleri pushed herself up in the bed. The side of her face ached and reminded her of the blow she’d received. “Where is the earl?”
“At Mass, my lady, and after that, he will be at breakfast with his men. Do you care to join him?”
The idea of sitting in a crowded, noisy hall made her shudder and hold her blanket closer. She couldn’t face a room of strangers…she didn’t want to see anyone…
“No…” she said. “I’ll stay here.” She felt uncharacteristically lethargic and shy. The memory of the events of the last two days was slowly returning; the escape from Llanlleyn, the plodding horse, the rain and the mud, the frightening meeting with the Normans, the uncomfortable, sleepless night in the forest on the way to Hawarden…But the worst memory was of her harsh treatment. She’d been chased, struck, addressed without respect, and abducted—against her will this time—and brought to Hawarden. Apart from the arrangement of her marriage, there hadn’t been one situation in her life which she hadn’t been able to successfully manipulate to her advantage, until she’d entered Llanlleyn. It was little wonder she felt overwhelmed by her current circumstances.
“Where is Olwen?” she asked suddenly. “The woman who was with me?”
“She was sent to the countess, my lady.”
The countess? Oh, yes…Gwalaes. Of course she was here at Hawarden; where else? Her husband’s lover, the earl’s wife, Bronwen’s mother… “Why? To act as one of her attendants?”
The other woman looked evasive. “I’m not quite sure, my lady. I was told only that I must wait upon you.”
“I would like to see her.”
“I’ll tell the steward, my lady. In the meantime,” she added in a tactful tone, “do you care to bathe?”
Teleri was suddenly aware that the odor of rough travel clung very strongly to her. She was embarrassed. “Yes…but I haven’t got anything to wear. How can I meet the earl in the rags I wore when I arrived here?”
“The seamstresses have been working since dawn to make you a suitable gown, my lady, and the earl has promised others. I’ll have a man bring up the tub and set it before the brazier. Will that do? There’s always a slight chill to the morning, even during this time of year…”
; Teleri assented and gave herself up to the woman’s ministrations. Perhaps after she was fed and bathed, and dressed in proper clothing, she would feel like her old self. In the meantime, she thought about the earl. Why had he taken her? Was it because of the rancor between him and Longsword? And what were his plans?
The more she considered the questions, the more agreeable she found her situation. Apart from her uncle’s domain, Hawarden was the next best place to be. The earl hated Longsword almost as much as she did; perhaps even more, since his discovery of his wife living at Rhuddlan under a false identity and apparently sleeping in Longsword’s bed. How, then, could he be anything but sympathetic to her plight? Teleri relaxed. She could see nothing alarming in her kidnapping and nothing evil in the earl’s plans for her.
When she finally met him later that afternoon, she was, as she had anticipated, more certain of herself. She hadn’t forgotten the tortures and humiliations of the past several weeks but she wasn’t going to let them stifle her natural, determined character. Washed and dressed in a becoming dark green gown of an obviously expensive shiny material which had yet to find its way to Rhuddlan, she entered the earl’s private chambers with her head high. He bowed to her, she curtsied in return. He offered her a cushioned seat and a servant brought her a little stool for her feet.
There were several other men in the room but no one she recognized. The face she had expected to see, Roger of Haworth’s, was not in evidence and she was relieved. Haworth had seemed jealous of the attention the earl had paid to her while at Rhuddlan and he had been uncommunicative and rough on the way from Llanlleyn to Hawarden.
The earl smiled expansively. “Lady Teleri,” he said, “let me begin with an apology. I deeply regret what you’ve had to endure these past few days at the hands of my men but I have to say that you show no ill effect at all; in fact, you look radiant as usual. But please—tell me the mark under your eye was not left by one of us.”
Self-consciously, she raised her hand to the side of her face. “No, my lord; this is a souvenier of Llanlleyn.”
“You are well out of the place, my lady,” he said quietly. “I cannot imagine anyone with the audacity to strike such a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she answered happily. “I must also thank you for coming to my rescue. But how did you know I was there?”
“Ahh…” He glanced at the others in the room. “To be truthful, we didn’t.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, looking around as well.
“Lady Teleri, I’ll be honest with you, even though I hope the truth doesn’t show me in a bad light. The feud between your husband and Lord Rhirid of Llanlleyn is well known to us and I think you also know of the…well, unfriendly situation which exists between your husband and myself. I tried to improve the relationship a few months ago on my visit to Rhuddlan but unfortunately, Lord William was not inclined to meet me halfway.”
She nodded knowingly. “He’s a pigheaded fool.”
“Yes…And then, as you know, I found my wife, whom I had believed to be dead, alive and well and living at Rhuddlan with a child I never knew I had. After that, Lord William lost all pretense at politeness. I felt, quite naturally, that I had been used and made to look a fool…and I admit I wanted a small measure of revenge. Because your husband’s father happens to be the king, there isn’t much I can do overtly, so I thought to lend a little assistance here and there to Lord Rhirid. And that was what Sir Roger was doing when he came across you.”
“I see…” Teleri breathed, the implication of his words striking her immediately. The earl had the manpower and the knowledge to defeat Longsword; he wouldn’t fail her as Rhirid had.
“I feel I can trust you with this disclosure, Lady Teleri, based upon our previous acquaintanceship,” he added. “Needless to say, I wouldn’t like Lord William to hear of it.”
“He won’t hear it from me, my lord!” she said firmly. Another thought struck her, causing her pleasure to fade into concern. “My lord,” she said, “will my rescue put you at bad terms with Lord Rhirid? If you are allies—”
His voice was so low and cultured and his blue eyes so intent on her that she promptly forgot all the other men in the room and even the rumors she had heard at Rhuddlan about his sexual tastes. “My lady,” he said, “I now consider my small alliance with Lord Rhirid ended. I don’t want to stand beside any man who would use an innocent woman as bait in his game of cat and mouse.”
“Oh—” She could actually feel her face flush. He was so sweet, so gallant, unlike her husband and Rhirid…
“Now,” he said in a louder voice, clapping his hands on his knees and standing up, “I understand you were on your way to the Perfeddwlad. If that remains your intention, I will see you arrive safely.”
“Thank you, my lord; I would like that.”
“Fine. But first, I have a favor to beg of you. Would you mind spending some time at Hawarden? You were such a gracious hostess at Rhuddlan, I would like to repay the kindness by entertaining you here. You would do us a great honor, my lady. I’m afraid we’re sadly lacking in refined company.”
After so pretty an invitation, it would have been rude to refuse and, anyway, she didn’t think she wanted to. Her mood had been low since her disappointment at Llanlleyn. The earl had raised her spirits once before; surely a small pause in this beautiful fortress with an attentive host would give her back the self-confidence she needed to face her uncle and insist he arrange for her marriage to be annulled.
She was happier still when Olwen entered her chamber a short time afterward. Earl Hugh was indulging her every wish; she had asked if Olwen could attend her and he’d agreed. She knew her husband and Rhirid would never have been so accommodating and probably purely out of spite.
She had assumed the other woman would be as pleased with the arrangement as she was and with barely a pause for greeting, she launched into a recounting of her interview with the earl, stressing his kindness and his gentility but halted abruptly when she finally noticed that Olwen looked more stricken than glad.
“What’s wrong?” she asked with a touch of impatience. “Is it your children? Olwen, they’re fine. You know Goewyn will look after them…”
“That doesn’t make it any easier to be away from them, Lady Teleri. They’re only babies.”
“You’ll see them soon; don’t fret.”
Olwen frowned. “How do you know that, Lady Teleri?”
“Because,” she answered smugly, “as I’ve been trying to tell you, I’ve spoken with the earl. He’s promised to have us escorted to the Perfeddwlad. He’s so angry with Lord Rhirid for using me as a pawn against Lord William that I didn’t dare tell him that I went willingly!” She closed her eyes and sighed. “He’s so nice to look upon, Olwen; almost as nice as Sir Richard…” She opened them again when the other woman didn’t respond. “What’s the matter now? I told you we’re to leave soon.”
“When, Lady Teleri?”
“I don’t know…In a few days. Earl Hugh asked if I wouldn’t mind staying so that he’d have someone interesting to talk to. And then…” She shrugged.
“And he meant me, as well, Lady Teleri? Or did he just refer to you?”
“Of course he meant you, also! Why not?”
Olwen did not reply. Teleri was annoyed. She’d been upset in the morning but the earl had reassured her and set her to rights and now Olwen was clouding her joy. She bit back a sharp spate of words because she supposed the other woman was concerned about her children, after all, and how could she argue with that? But soon the silence became oppressive and finally, as a diversion, Teleri ordered her to comb out her hair and prepare her for the evening meal. “And you must tell me all about the countess,” she added. “I’d like to know how you found her.”
Roger of Haworth surveyed the brightly lit, noisy hall, crowded with tables, men and servants until his eyes fell upon the dais where the earl and Dafydd’s irritating niece sat chatting. Ralph de Vire had put himself o
n the girl’s other side, and leaned over occasionally to speak. For a moment Haworth debated leaving but then forced himself to move forward to occupy the empty seat to Hugh’s right. Of late, meals had become a source of anguish to him. He sat down with the sole purpose of diverting some of Hugh’s attention from de Vire. The work took so much mental effort that he was often unable to eat and relief came only when Hugh had finished and was ready for his stroll down to the bailey. De Vire never accompanied them.
He gave Hugh a small bow before he sat which was acknowledged with more enthusiasm than Haworth had been shown in weeks. Judging from his flushed face and genial expression, the earl was in a fine mood. Haworth’s own spirits lifted in response; he knew the earl’s mood had everything to do with the thought of engaging the Bastard and nothing to do with de Vire. Haworth’s dislike of de Vire hadn’t lessened with time. Although he believed Hugh when he insisted there was no personal relationship between him and the younger man, he didn’t trust de Vire’s intentions.
The damned Welshwoman prattled on and on, her high-pitched voice grating on his nerves. He wondered how long she was going to stay and how many meals she would take with them. When he and his companions had come upon the Welshman who would lead them to Llanlleyn, the man had sought to deflect attention from himself by pointing her out and claiming she was the wife of the Bastard. In other words, a more valuable hostage than he. But Haworth hadn’t wanted any hostages, only a guide. He’d been tempted to leave the bitch on the road and would have, if he’d been alone. His two companions had assumed Hugh would want her and one of them had ridden back to fetch her. He’d fully expected a blistering earful when she was brought to him but to his surprise, she was quiet, and had remained so until this meal—
He heard his name and glanced up guiltily. The three of them—Hugh, the Welshwoman and that pig, de Vire—were staring at him with amusement on their faces. “He didn’t hear me,” Hugh said with a chuckle. “He’s too busy trying to decide whether to eat or to drink.”
De Vire laughed and Haworth scowled. “I beg your pardon, my lord,” he said stiffly. “Did you ask me a question?”
“Lady Teleri and I were discussing Rhirid’s champion. You remember him, don’t you? The big fellow with the black mustaches—Dylan ap something or other?”
“I do, my lord. Big, but like most large men, unspectacular on his feet. We practiced against each other while he was here.”
“What do you imagine your chances against him would be if the battle were not practice but real?”
“Excellent, my lord. I know all his moves. I would win such a contest.” His eyes slid past Hugh to de Vire. “I’ve never lost yet.”
“What did I tell you, Lady Teleri!” Hugh exclaimed. Haworth switched his full attention back to the conversation. He didn’t want give the golden de Vire another opportunity to laugh at him, although for some reason the younger man’s expression was suddenly subdued.
“I thank you for permitting Olwen to stay with me, my lord,” the woman was saying to Hugh. “Although I hope the countess isn’t angry with her departure. Will we see her?”
“I doubt it, Lady Teleri. My wife prefers to be far away from me and doesn’t venture from her rooms very often.”
“I hope at least to see little Bronwen. A precocious child but very good-natured…”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you there, as well, Lady Teleri,” Hugh answered and Haworth could hear a touch of annoyance in the words. “Mathilde, as she is now known, is living with my mother in England. Wales is a beautiful country, but my daughter has been running wild since her birth and needs to learn the language and customs of her native culture.”
The bitch smiled. “Of course. Well, you’ll have another one soon enough, whom you needn’t send away for a few years.”
Haworth, in the process of bringing his cup to his lips, stopped moving, his arm frozen in mid-air. His head whipped towards Hugh.
“I’m sorry, Lady Teleri,” Hugh said slowly, frowning in confusion. “I don’t understand…”
“Perhaps if I said congratulations instead, you would! After all, your wife is with child, isn’t she?”
The cup slipped from Haworth’s hand. For a moment, he couldn’t draw a breath. His head was still fixed in Hugh’s direction. He saw Teleri blithely resume eating…he saw the earl and de Vire exchange a glance…he saw the earl’s eyes swivel towards him…
“You’ve spilled your wine, Roger,” Hugh said blandly. “The cloth will be ruined.”
“I beg your pardon, my lord.” His heart pounded rapidly; he thought it would burst. He stood up. “My lord, do I have your permission to leave?”
“Of course. But I’m done as well. Why don’t we go down to the bailey as we usually do?”
Hugh apologized to the Welshwoman for leaving so abruptly, waved the rest of his men back to their seats and proceeded to the door. Haworth hesitated. He didn’t think he wanted to hear what he supposed Hugh might tell him. But then a movement caught the corner of his eye; it was de Vire nervously refilling his own cup from the pitcher on the table, and suddenly he was more angry than bewildered. He threw his napkin down and followed after Hugh with a firm step.
Hugh was halfway to the steps leading down to the bailey when Haworth caught up with him. Without a glance in his direction or before Haworth could even open his mouth to speak, the earl said in the same bland tone: “I wonder if it’s true.”
Haworth was startled. “If what’s true?”
“That story about the baby, for God’s sake!”
“Didn’t you know?”
Hugh stopped abruptly and looked at him. “Of course I didn’t know, Roger! She never told me.” He started walking again. “In all that time, she never said a word.”
But Haworth’s suspicions had seethed for too long to be so easily deflated. “Why wouldn’t she tell you?” he asked. “Does she enjoy your company so much? I always knew she was a strange woman but to actually enjoy being raped every night…”
They reached the steps. Hugh halted again. “Is something wrong, Roger? Something you want to say? You act as if this is some kind of slight against you when it’s the biggest shock I’ve ever had in my life!”
“That bitch said the baby would be here soon enough. To my mind, she means your wife has been pregnant for some time,” Haworth accused.
The earl stared at him for so long without answering that he began to regret his harsh words. How could he truly doubt the person he loved more than anything in the world? “My lord, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I don’t—”
“Roger, we both have cause to be angry with this news,” Hugh interrupted. He looked away, back to the keep. “I’ve never told you this because it’s somewhat shameful to me but it will answer most of your questions. Although I saw Eleanor almost every night, I was sometimes unable to—” he faltered and glanced back at Haworth with a rueful smile. “You know what I mean. It was always difficult for me because I felt nothing for her. When she feared me, it was better. Easier. But since her return from Rhuddlan, she has feared me less and less. It’s as though I can no longer intimidate her. The worst part is that she knows it. She uses her new strength against me. When you ask does she enjoy my company so much, I think the answer is yes. I think she quite enjoys coming to my chamber and seeing me fumble to complete the act. She enjoys seeing me humilate myself before her. But I was determined to have my heir out of her and so I kept trying.”
Haworth was outraged. “My lord, I will kill her for you,” he said in an intense voice. “How can she do this to you? Humiliate you—the earl of Chester! Let me kill her and you can have another wife.”
“Steady, Roger!” Hugh smiled. “If Lady Teleri’s gossip is true, then I may have my heir…and not need another wife. But there’s something else you could do for me…”
“Anything…” Haworth whispered eagerly.
“Take my message to Rhuddlan. Tell the Bastard I have his wife and Delamere’s whore. Tell him he must
pay a heavy ransom to retrieve them and imply that in a fortress this large unfortunate accidents are not uncommon.”
“But I thought we wanted to fight him!” Haworth protested.
“We will, Roger! The ransom I have in mind is far too rich for the Bastard. He won’t be able to pay it. He’ll come here himself to tell me so and then he’ll attack Hawarden.” He put his hand on Haworth’s shoulder. “Think of it, Roger! We’ll finally have our revenge.”
It was impossible to think with the familiar, comfortable weight of Hugh’s hand gripping his shoulder. A shiver ran down his spine. “Of course I’ll go, my lord. I’m honored that you choose me…”
His life, Hugh thought wearily, was suddenly too complicated. Haworth was becoming suspicious, although he seemed to have accepted the latest fabrication, and de Vire was becoming too bold, although not yet where Haworth was concerned. He wondered when he’d be able to get rid of Olwen and he couldn’t wait to get rid of Teleri. To crown it all, his wife, whom he’d seen only once since their return to Hawarden—an interview which had reduced him to an ineffectual handful of jelly—was pregnant. Hugh looked forward to a very long, drawn-out war with the Bastard, if only to take his mind off personal matters.
Ralph de Vire was lounging in a cushioned chair in the antechamber of Hugh’s suite when Hugh, unescorted, arrived. He sprang to his feet, his handsome face creased with frowns. “My lord, we must speak.”
An evening spent maintaining a polite demeanor with Teleri, trying to digest her incredible accusation, and then spinning lie upon lie to Haworth had not left Hugh in a genial mood. He bristled. “We must?”
The sarcasm was wasted on de Vire. “Did you see the way he looked at me?” he demanded. “He knows everything! Did you hear him brag about his skill with the sword? He as much as admitted he wants to murder me!”
“You’re imagining things…” Hugh said irritably. He threw himself into the chair vacated by de Vire and stared at the floor. He wondered what would be the best way to confront Eleanor. The hopeful thought occurred to him that perhaps Teleri had gotten it wrong and Eleanor wasn’t pregnant; after all, there’d been no direct conversation between the two women. If only he’d refused Teleri’s request that Olwen wait upon her…
De Vire’s feet were suddenly in his field of vision and he glanced up involuntarily but the sharp retort on his tongue slid back down his throat. The younger man’s expression was so outraged that it prompted a surge of protective feeling in him. Robert Bolsover had always been self-assured and aggressive and Hugh had often felt in awe of his strong personality. Bolsover hadn’t needed his protection, but de Vire was a different story and Hugh was beginning to discover a certain pleasure in rising to the occasion.
“Obviously you didn’t see his face!” de Vire retorted. “Something must be done about him—I don’t want to have to constantly look over my shoulder!”
“I’ve already done something, Ralph,” Hugh said. “I’m sending him to Rhuddlan tomorrow. He’ll be gone for days.”
“And when he returns? What then? If the countess is with child, then he’ll expect your summons again. Where will that leave me?”
“Don’t worry about that now, Ralph.” Hugh had the uneasy feeling that de Vire, having sensed Hugh’s reliance on him, was slowly starting to take advantage of their relationship with his blunt demands, but he felt powerless to remonstrate. He enjoyed making the younger man happy. “I’ll figure it out, I promise.”
De Vire looked unconvinced. “You ought to send him to one of your other properties. It would be kinder for him not to be around…”
Reluctantly, Hugh said, “You may be right…” Words de Vire had spoken suddenly reverberated in his head and he gratefully realized he didn’t have to think now about Haworth. He stood up and put his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “Forget about Roger for the time being. Do me a favor and fetch my wife to me. If she shows the slightest hesitation to come, you have my permission to force her…”
Lying in bed but awake, Eleanor heard the sudden pounding on her outer door with an emotion almost like relief. Her servant, however, wasn’t as prepared; the girl had been soundly asleep and jumped up from her pallet with a little scream. She glanced apprehensively at her mistress, plainly afraid to confront the intruder. Eleanor got out of bed, pulled a shawl over her shoulders and slippers onto her feet and went out.
Ralph de Vire led her down the twisting steps. The door leading to Hugh’s rooms stood open and while the knight went straight in, she paused in the doorway. Hugh sat in the antechamber, in a chair which faced the front of the room and he was staring at her. She knew, of course, what the summons meant. She’d been expecting it from the moment she’d told Olwen. Why had she done it? She wasn’t certain unless it had been Olwen’s friendly demeanor. Her servants and her guards were cold, either too intimidated by or too respectful of Hugh to disobey his order to not speak to her.
“My lord, she’s here,” de Vire said, reaching out his arm to pull her across the threshold.
It was impossible to read his expression. She watched him warily while around them de Vire talked until Hugh interrupted him in a soft voice and asked him to leave. Although Eleanor had warned herself all the way down to remain calm, the thud of the closing door started her heart beating more quickly. Her hands shook but she didn’t think Hugh could see them in the shadowy candlelight. She concentrated on controlling her breathing, well aware that her only weapon against him was an impassive self-possession.
For a long time he said nothing. It was impossible to return his steady gaze. When he finally spoke, she jumped. “You,” he said in that same soft voice, “have something to tell me.”
Her mouth was dry. “You already know, my lord.”
“So, the bitch was telling the truth. Whose is it?” When she didn’t answer right away, he suddenly lurched out of his chair and shouted loudly enough to wake everyone in the keep, “Whose!”
Eleanor couldn’t help herself; she was forced backwards by the strength of his anger. She stammered, “Th—The child is the heir to Chester.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Eleanor!” he snapped. His abrupt silence after his loud outburst made her glance at him. He was staring at her with more loathing on his face than she’d ever seen, his blue eyes like ice chips. “It’s his, isn’t it?” he said evenly. “The Bastard’s bastard.”
“I am the wife of the earl of Chester,” Eleanor insisted nervously. “The child is yours; it isn’t a bastard.”
He snorted. “Mine by default? I don’t know if I like that…” She said nothing. He considered her. “Does anyone else know? Does he?”
“No one knows.”
Again the considering silence. Then he said, “What an adventure marriage to you has been. Disappearances and reappearances. False identities. Kidnapping. And when I first saw you, I thought you were such a dull thing. Quite unlike your brother. You’re certain of this…pregnancy?” He made the word sound almost distasteful.
“Yes.”
“And when can I expect to see it?”
“With the grace of God, January.”
“God?” He smirked. “Will God protect you from some terrible misfortune?”
The remark angered her so much she forgot her fright. She drew herself up; she was nearly as tall as he and she saw the smug look on his face fade. She smiled thinly at him; coldly and pityingly. “Your threats mean nothing to me, my lord,” she said quietly in a voice no longer stammering or nervous. “Our marriage hasn’t been an adventure but a nightmare. You made it your business to ruthlessly exterminate everything and everyone who brought me pleasure. But if you thought to grind me down, you failed. I’m stronger now. I know what I’m capable of now. The last three years were the happiest of my life and strangely enough, I have you to thank for them. What you’re doing now, I look upon as a test from God. I don’t quite understand why it’s necessary but I accept it. Perhaps I loved my daughter too much. Perhaps that’s why she had to
be taken from me. And if you take this child from me as well…so be it. I can’t stop you but I don’t have to. You’ll answer for it in the end. I don’t know what kind of demon you are, my lord, but I do know that in the end you will pay for everything you’ve done…everything you’ve done…”
He sprang bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat, and tried to catch his breath. The room was eerily lit by moonlight coming in through the unshuttered window and he looked around at the familiar furnishings with relief. He wiped a hand over his face and waited for his heart to stop pounding; the memory of the nightmare was persistent but slowly ebbing.
Like a good soldier, Ralph de Vire awoke almost simultaneously, instinctively sensing that something was wrong. “Hugh?” he whispered. “What is it?”
“A bad dream, I think,” Hugh answered. His voice sounded hoarse and he coughed to clear it. “Just a bad dream.”
He felt a hand on his back. “You’re sopping wet!” de Vire exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
“Yes…” But he was still breathing rapidly. “Fetch a light; it’s too dark in here. Fetch a light!” he snapped when de Vire was slow to move. He muttered, “I’ll be fine. I have to get rid of her.”
“Who?”
“Who! My wife, of course! She cursed me. She called me a demon!”
“It was only a dream, my lord—”
“Not in the dream, Ralph; during our interview!” He shivered suddenly, the sweat turning cold on his bare skin. “She said I would pay for what I’ve done to her.”
De Vire crossed the floor and went into the antechamber but all the candles had been put out and the torches doused. He had to go a few steps down the short hall to the alcove where the garderobe was located and where the servants left a torch burning all night. He plucked the torch out of its sconce and brought it back to Hugh’s bedchamber, pausing at the window to find the location of the nearly full moon and calculate the hours until dawn. He yawned and turned around to face Hugh. “Where do you want it?”
“On the near wall to me…”
He was sitting up in the bed, trying to shake the terror of the dream he couldn’t clearly remember. The light drove most of the shadows away but he was grateful for de Vire’s company and his comforting.
De Vire returned to the bed. He pulled a sheet over Hugh’s shoulders and fell back onto his pillow. “Taking her out of Rhuddlan and restoring her to her title hardly seems a reason to curse someone. And now she carries your child; God willing, a son.” He yawned again. “I didn’t know you see her, Hugh. In all the time I’ve been at Hawarden, I’ve never even heard you mention her name. I’d forgotten she’s here!”
Hugh glanced back at him but his expression was inscrutable in the pale light. His panic was momentarily gone. Did nobody guess the truth? Or would everybody assume the baby was truly his? “I haven’t seen her since you’ve been with me, Ralph,” he said calmly. “Lady Teleri was right when she implied the countess has been pregnant for some time; it must have happened directly we returned from Rhuddlan.”
“Lord William would be bereft if he heard this news,” de Vire said sleepily. “You can’t believe how he doted on her…”
It was too dangerous, Hugh decided; she could no longer remain at Hawarden. Better to put enough distance between her and the Bastard that no one would ever link the two. Too many people knew them in Gwynedd and they couldn’t all be as gullible as Ralph de Vire. Besides, he wasn’t quite certain he trusted Eleanor to keep her mouth shut.
Avranches in Normandy lay at the extent of his properties. He had a small estate there called Blundeville. The last time he’d visited it was during the rebellion, right before the ill-fated siege at Dol. Yes, he thought, it would do perfectly. It was far enough away from the Bastard, far enough from Wales and, thankfully, far enough from him.
Down below, Roger of Haworth stared up at the earl’s now-empty window. He stood motionless in shock and was only remotely aware of his heart tightening in his chest. If someone had asked him at that moment what he’d meant to do when he’d climbed the steps to the motte only moments before, he would have been hard-pressed to answer. It was to stay with him for the rest of his life: that sudden flash of light in the window and Ralph de Vire’s brightly lit face in its frame.
He left the next morning with three others. If Hugh wondered at his lack of enthusiasm or reserve, he didn’t comment on it, which was like rubbing salt into the wound. De Vire was nowhere in evidence, which was lucky for him because Haworth didn’t know if he’d be able to control his anger. He felt he was treading a narrow line between normalcy and raging emotion. He heard none of Hugh’s cheerful patter and couldn’t wait to leave the suddenly strangling confines of the sprawling fortress.
It was lucky, too, that Haworth was the only one, besides Hugh, of course, who knew the purpose of the journey. This was to ensure that not even a hint of the truth find its way to the ears of the hostages. The prattling bitch, Teleri, had already shown herself adept at picking up gossip and it would have been disastrous if she found out Hugh was only pretending to enjoy her company while he waited eagerly for her husband to take the bait. Immensely safer if Haworth’s companions weren’t told the truth until they were well on their way.
And lucky—because Haworth now had no intention of going to Rhuddlan.
He felt a childish urge to be spiteful in response to the calamity which had befallen him. He wanted to thwart Hugh’s carefully plotted plan. He wanted Hugh to be puzzled over the Bastard’s lack of response and then, when he finally admitted the truth, he wanted Hugh to look stricken and beg to know the reason behind his refusal to obey this important request. He wanted to see Hugh chastened by the knowledge that he had deeply wounded the most loyal friend he’d ever had.
Beyond the gates, he told his companions that they were going to make a general sweep of the countryside to the west and south of Hawarden. The earl was concerned, he said, that Gruffudd ap Madog had been too quiet for too long…