Читать книгу Child of the Phoenix - Barbara Erskine - Страница 59

‘Let’s run away!’ Eleyne pulled Rhonwen into the window embrasure; a heavy tapestry hid them from the body of the room where the Countess of Chester and her ladies were busy about their tasks. ‘You and me and Luned. We could run away and no one would find us.’ She was talking in a frantic whisper.

Rhonwen tried to suppress the quick surge of hope the child’s words raised. ‘But where would we go?’

‘Home, of course.’

‘Eleyne, cariad. We can’t go home.’ Rhonwen put her arms around the child and rested her lips against the veil which covered Eleyne’s head. ‘Don’t you understand? Your father has forbidden you to return. Aber is no longer your home.’

‘Then I shall go to Margaret at Bramber. Or to Gruffydd.’

‘No, Eleyne, they will obey your father. They have to. They would only send you back to Lord Chester.’ She closed her eyes to try to hold back her tears. She had written to Einion, smuggling the letter out of the castle the day after they had arrived at Chester, begging him to do something. He would think of something. He had to. Eleyne was sworn to the goddess.

‘We could hide in the forest.’ Eleyne looked up hopefully. Her eyes were feverishly bright. ‘When Lord Huntingdon sends you all away, you go, as if you were doing as he commanded, and I shall hide in one of the wagons. Once we are out of the castle you and I can slip away. Oh Rhonwen, it would work. I know it would work.’

Rhonwen bit her lip. ‘Cariad …’

‘We can do it … I know we can.’

‘And you would rather live as an outlaw in the woods than with Lord Huntingdon? Here you will be a very great lady.’ It couldn’t work. And yet she found herself seizing the idea, as if there were a chance they could escape.

‘I hate it here.’ Eleyne leaned against the wall, pressing her cheek against the cold stone. ‘I don’t want to be a great lady and I don’t want to – I don’t want to be anyone’s wife. And I don’t want to live in a city. Ever. I want to live with the mountains and the sea. And I want to stay with you, Rhonwen. I can’t live without you.’ Her eyes flooded with tears once more.

Rhonwen hesitated. So often in the past she had tried to curb Eleyne’s impetuous ideas, but now every part of her wanted to fall in with this crazy plan and run away from the great castle with all its riches, this alien English stronghold, run by its arrogant English masters. But would it work? Could it work? The consequences if they failed did not bear thinking about.

She glanced into the shadowy room where the countess and her ladies talked quietly over their sewing and their spinning. Lady Chester was kind and understanding; Lord Huntingdon, whom she loathed and mistrusted, was a different matter. And it would be Eleyne who would suffer. Eleyne who would be punished. She pictured the handsome stern face of the earl with his fair skin and his intense intelligent blue eyes. What would he do to her if she were caught? Her child, her baby who had never been beaten in her life?

So little time … no time at all to plan. His mind made up, the earl had arranged for the baggage train and its escort to leave after mass, in three days’ time.

Eleyne touched her hand. She smiled coaxingly at Rhonwen. ‘I’ll find a way,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll see. I’ll think of something.’