Читать книгу The Devil’s Diadem - Sara Douglass - Страница 19

I found Yvette and she went to Lady Adelie.

I stood for a little time in the courtyard where I had found Yvette in yet another deep conversation with William, and watched the bustle about me. It was clear that Pengraic had not waited for his wife’s approval before ordering preparations for departure. Men loaded carts with provisions, as also with chests from the house. I wondered if I were to go with the Lady Adelie, or if I should find myself homeless again.

My question was answered as soon as I returned to the children’s chamber. Evelyn was fussing about, packing linens into a deep chest.

‘We are to leave!’ she said to me as I entered. ‘William sent a man to tell us to pack. Ah, to Pengraic at this time of year. I am sure my lady is none too pleased. Maeb, what has happened? What did you hear?’

‘I may not speak of it, Evelyn. I am sorry.’

‘But we are to leave for Pengraic?’

‘If you have heard it, then, yes, we are.’ There was no point denying this.

‘But why? My lady is with child, and not well. It is a long and arduous journey and … ah, you may not speak of it. I know.’

Evelyn stopped, and sighed. ‘Well, at least we shall dine with the king tonight. A small reward for all this mayhem. Maeb, you have yet to witness such an event, yes? Then you shall enjoy yourself this evening. Whatever else awaits, you may say that at least you dined with the king. Now, come help me with these linens … and do you know where lie Alice’s and Emmette’s mantles? I cannot find them anywhere.’

England might be gripped by plague, and the Pengraic house might be in turmoil, but even so, it seemed nothing would stop the steward and Lady Adelie entertaining the king as they believed fitting. The great hall on the ground floor had been opened up, benches and trestle tables moved in, the great banners and tapestries rehung from beams and on walls, the fires lit, and I was, indeed, to dine with the king.

Nothing in Lady Adelie’s household had prepared me for this. As the evening drew in, Evelyn and I left the two youngest children in the care of their nurse while she and I, together with Alice, Emmette and the twin boys, washed and prepared ourselves for the evening’s feast. I had nothing suitable to wear, but Mistress Yvette, in a moment she spared us from her dressing of Lady Adelie, generously offered me one of her kirtles, a lovely spring-green linen garment, adorned with crimson ribbons and embroideries.

‘It is so beautiful!’ I said as I smoothed it down over my hips.

‘And it suits your black hair,’ said Evelyn, ‘and reflects the green of your eyes.’

Despite everything I had heard this day, and the upheaval of the entire household, I shall admit I was more than a little excited at this evening’s entertainments. I had never worn such a rich gown, nor thought I would ever attend a court where a king should be present.

There would not be many women attending — Lady Adelie, Mistress Yvette, and Evelyn only; myself, and the two elder Pengraic girls still at home. There would be no gaggle of painted court beauties, or a bevy of titled ladies. All courtly attention would be on our small group.

I wondered if I would attract any admiring eyes. I fingered one of my heavy braids, shifting it this way and that across my breasts, pleased with the effect of my black hair against the green and scarlet.

Evelyn came over, and I remarked that she had not veiled her head as she was wont to do.

‘There will be no veils among the womenfolk tonight, Maeb. It is the new fashion to wear hair unadorned, save for flowers or jewels, at courtly events. Even married women go without their veils.

‘And the unmarried … Maeb, why not wear your hair loose tonight? It will be all wavy from the braiding, and it must surely reach all the way down to your knees. You have such lovely hair … you do not need to lengthen it with the horsehair that some women require. Tonight you can shine in all your womanly glory, eh? Enough to catch the eye of one of the king’s gentle retainers? A youthful knight, or even a baron?’

‘Sweet Jesu, Evelyn, you shall have me married before the morn!’

She laughed. ‘Ah, come now, Maeb. Here now, it is all loosened. We shall brush it … and I have just the thing for your brow, this circlet of ribbon and waxen flowers that Lady Adelie once gave to me. There. Done. You shall be beautiful for tonight, and for one evening forget whatever worries you heard earlier. Now, let’s see if Alice has managed to dress Emmette’s hair, or if we shall have to do it ourselves.’

There was a small looking glass in the chamber, and as Evelyn turned to Alice and Emmette, I stole a glance in its reflection.

I hardly recognised myself. The excitement had put a sparkle in my eyes, and the richness of the verdant green gown, and the unaccustomed sight of my hair unbound and tumbling about my shoulders and back, made me look almost the wood dryad. I bit my lips a little to make them redden and, checking quickly to make sure Evelyn was not watching, pinched my cheeks to colour them, too.

For that moment, the plague and the journey ahead was all lost in my anticipation. I forgot even my humiliation of earlier, and looked forward only to an evening that a few weeks ago I could not ever have imagined myself attending.

My night would be full of earls and kings and feasting. I thought of Stephen, too, and wondered what he would make of me now.

I remembered the jest he made of his bedchamber on that day I had first arrived at Rosseley, and suddenly I had no need of pinching to make my cheeks colour.

I put down the looking glass, and turned to where Evelyn fussed over the girls, and smiled.

Tonight I would enjoy, and tomorrow I would fear.

I had not previously entered the great hall of Rosseley Manor. Its doors were always closed, and there had been no reason for me to go inside. My world had been completely bounded by Lady Adelie and her children — not the larger world of men and court of which I’d only had tantalising glimpses.

So on this night, when I entered, I stopped and just looked.

I had never seen a chamber so huge, not even that of a church! I knew that the hall ran a great distance from seeing its outer walls, but even so, nothing had prepared me for its size once I entered it.

Now I understood why the stairs from the ground floor to the upper level wound up and up for an eternity — they had to somehow surmount the height of the hall’s panelled ceiling.

The hall ran back from its entrance doors to an enormous fireplace in its far wall. Before that fireplace — ablaze even on this warm spring night — sat a raised dais with a long table heavy with patterned silken damasks and linens. The light from both the fire and the scores of torches and candles about made the silver and golden plate and cups and pitchers atop the table glint with a rosy light.

I had never seen … I had never comprehended such riches!

I knew this all came from the earl’s household store, for I’d overheard William on the stairs earlier, handing a key to an armed servant that the plate might be unlocked for the night.

If an earl commanded such wealth, then what might the king’s court reveal?

‘Maeb.’

Evelyn’s voice broke into my awed reverie, and I hastily moved aside at her gentle tug on my hand. We walked to one side of the hall — two long tables ran down the length of the hall, as if they were pillars supporting the cross beam of the high table — and allowed one of the servants to lead us to our places. We were by ourselves now, for we had handed over Alice, Emmette, Ancel and Robert to Mistress Yvette so they could enter with their parents, and the two younger children were with the nurse. Mistress Yvette would stay close to Lady Adelie for the evening, so Evelyn and myself had little to do but enjoy ourselves, with no duties to perform.

The two long tables were already almost full of diners. There were no other women present save for Evelyn and myself — Lady Adelie, Mistress Yvette and the two girls had yet to make their entrance — and we attracted many a glance as we moved closer to the high table.

The glances were admiring and speculative both, and I lowered my eyes that I might not meet any of their interest. I flattered myself that many of those glances were directed at me, but I knew that Evelyn must also garner her share of admiration, for she was still young enough to rouse lust in a man, and looked very fine tonight in her deep red gown and her glistening nut-brown hair heavily braided with blue and silver beads.

Evelyn — usually — wore the veil of the married woman, but was she widowed? Or as yet unwed and only wore the veil as acknowledgement of her rank and age? She had never talked of a husband to me in our nightly chats, and in fact avoided revealing too much personal information at all. I resolved to delve a little this night, if I had the chance.

We arrived at our places, only five or six down from the high table, and Evelyn graciously thanked the servant who bowed and left us to seat ourselves. We were lucky to have a bench of our own, and as we slid into place I was careful not to catch the table linens and tip all the tableware to the ground.

Tonight, I was determined that I should be worthy of my place in this court.

Our tableware, though fine, was not of the beauty of the high table. Pewter bowls held water for us to wash our fingers, and wine cups of similar nature sat before us. There were some pewter spoons on the table, but mostly we would use our fingers or the small personal knives that all carried at belts or girdles. At least my knife would not disgrace me, I thought, fingering it gently as it swung from my girdle, for it was of good craftsmanship — one of the few things I’d had from my childhood that was of any worth.

A servant appeared at our elbows, and filled our cups with a spiced wine.

I took a sip, and marvelled at its headiness. I would need to be careful not to sip too enthusiastically.

‘Sweet mistress,’ said the man immediately on my left, ‘may I ask your name? I have been to the earl’s court on many an occasion, but have not seen you previously.’

I turned to look at him, wondering how I should respond. He was a man of younger years, fair of hair and with an open friendly face, well dressed in a heavily embroidered russet tunic with a fine white linen shirt beneath. He wore several gold rings, set with gems, on his fingers, and a small hoop through one ear.

‘I am Mistress Maeb Langtofte, and I serve the Lady Adelie. Are you with the king’s retinue? Forgive my ignorance, but I do not yet know even all the earl’s retinue, let alone the king’s.’

‘I think any man could find it easy to forgive you anything,’ the man said, ‘for it is rare to find such beauty without a jealous husband attached to her arm. You must be new arrived at the earl’s house, yes? Otherwise I cannot imagine how you yet remain unwed. I swear, within the six month, a score of gallant knights and barons shall beg the earl for your hand.’

I was growing uncomfortable now, for I was not used to such direct conversation nor such admiration. The man also had not yet given me his name, and I did not know if perchance I spoke with one of the king’s younger brothers, or one of his lords, or if he was one of the earl’s men and sent here to test me. He could just as likely have been attached to either Summersete or Scersberie, and I was at a loss as to how to address him.

The man’s blue eyes twinkled, and I knew he sensed my discomfort.

‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I am Ranulph Saint-Valery, and I hail from Lincolescire. Edmond amuses himself by keeping me within his court, but for what reason, I do not know, for I cannot think I serve one single useful earthly purpose.’

I smiled, thinking it would not be hard to like this man.

‘But for tonight, lovely lady,’ Saint-Valery continued, ‘I shall be your servant, and shall serve you the most delicate morsels from my plate and wipe the lip of your cup with my napkin, that your wine may always taste sweet.’

Now I was blushing, for I had never before encountered such courtliness, nor such attention.

Fortunately Evelyn came to my rescue as I struggled to make some light, witty remark.

‘My Lord Saint-Valery, you are making my young companion blush with your pretty words. Maeb, our lord king likes to keep Sir Ranulph at his court for the beauty of his poetry. You have at your side one of England’s greatest poets. Is that not so, my lord?’

Ranulph made a deprecating gesture with one hand, then half turned aside as a servant made a fuss in the refilling of his wine cup.

The momentary distraction allowed Evelyn to whisper into my ear. ‘Be careful of him, Maeb. A celebrated poet he may be, but he is also one of Edmond’s spies at court. He uses his poetry and sweet tongue to coerce even the most well-kept secret from the tightest lips.’

I squeezed her hand, grateful for the warning.

I wondered if my table companion was mere happenchance, or if Edmond had decided I might be a spy in the employ of the King of Sicily after all.

Saint-Valery and I chatted for a while of Witenie, where I was born and raised. He knew of its market, having attended one day, which knowledge surprised me.

‘You did not see me?’ he said, his mouth curving in a smile. I was a little disturbed to suddenly realise how sensual that mouth was. ‘Choosing among the apples?’

‘No, my lord,’ I said, ‘for I should surely have remembered so distinguished a visitor had I seen you. Perhaps you came disguised? A travelling minstrel perhaps. A vagabond. So that none might recognise you and mark your presence.’

The smile widened a little, although the expression on his face was now speculative rather than amused. ‘You have courage with your words, Mistress Maeb. You are not afraid to tease.’

‘It is the wine,’ I murmured. ‘It goes to my head.’

‘Then I shall press it the more urgently upon you, that I might know you better.’

I was about to reply, but just then the mellow tones of two horns sounded by the door and all conversation stopped as we turned to look.

‘The king,’ Saint-Valery murmured, and with that all assembled at the long tables rose, and either bowed or dipped in courtesy.

Edmond and the Earl of Pengraic and Lady Adelie had entered the hall. Edmond led the way, Lady Adelie on his arm, with the earl a step behind. All were dressed richly, and I thought that Edmond now looked every part the king in his splendid blue tunic with its gold embroideries, fur-lined mantle, jewelled brooch, and heavily jewelled circlet upon his brow. He wore a sword at his left hip, and its hilt looked to me as if it were fashioned from pure gold inlaid with diamonds.

Lady Adelie looked weary, but otherwise sparkled with jewels in the circlet she wore on her head and wound through her braids which hung almost to the floor. The earl likewise wore rich cloth and many jewels, and a sword as well. He and the king were the only men in the hall, apart from the men-at-arms standing against the walls, who wore their weapons, although all of us carried small eating knives at our belts.

Saint-Valery saw me looking at the swords. ‘No one wears their sword in the presence of the king,’ he murmured, ‘save his host.’

I nodded my thanks.

Behind came Walter de Roche, the Earl of Summersete, and Gilbert de Montgomerie, the Earl of Scersberie.

Lord Stephen walked a few steps behind the two earls, looking splendid in a gold and silver tunic, possibly the one I had seen him in that first day I’d met him, and I am afraid my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. I wondered if he would see me from where he ate at high table.

After Stephen came Alice and Emmette and the two boys, Ancel and Robert, with Mistress Yvette a step behind. She was dressed in a manner almost as rich as Lady Adelie, which showed as nothing else the favour in which Lady Adelie held her.

Edmond and Lady Adelie drew close to where Evelyn, Saint-Valery and I stood, and while the countess kept her eyes ahead, the king glanced over.

For a moment he met my eyes, then I dropped mine and sank a little deeper in courtesy.

When I looked up again, the entire party had passed me and had arrived at the high table where they were in the process of seating themselves.

Once the high table had sat, Pengraic, who alone had remained standing, raised his wine cup and led the wassail toast in honour of Edmond.

‘Drinkhail!’ the assemblage responded as we raised our cups and toasted the king. Then we all sat, and the evening’s feasting and entertainment began.

Considering the king, the earl and their respective retinues had only arrived this morning, and with no warning, William the house steward had done his earl and his lady proud. A pig and a yearling ox had been slaughtered and roasted: a half score servants brought in the meat piled high on silver platters. As well as the pork and ox, several swans and a score of rabbits had been roasted and served, and there followed several platters of pigeon and fish in various spiced milks and pottages. And yet more men followed, bearing bowls of stews and vegetables, sauces and soups.

A servant appeared at my elbow, placing a trencher of bread before me, as well as a small plate. The high table was served their food first, then the servants came down the long lines of the table, offering us our choice of meats and their accompanying dishes.

Saint-Valery chose for me, selecting cuts of meats and sauces for my plate and trencher, until I thought that perhaps he was intending to feed me for a week. I protested somewhat weakly at the amount of food he thought I might eat and he inclined his head in acquiescence, and thus we began our feast.

Minstrels came to entertain us with harps and pipes and sweet voices.

I was, I confess it, overawed. Nothing in Lady Adelie’s household had prepared me for a courtly event like this. I stole glances at the high table, watching the king and the nobles eat and drink, laugh and gesture, and offer each other choice pieces of meat as well as other courtesies. I thought Stephen had been well placed, sitting between the earls of Summersete and Scersberie, and I confess I watched him the most and was both delighted and flustered when he saw me, and raised his wine cup in a greeting to me.

I was even more flustered when it became obvious that Saint-Valery had witnessed the exchange.

‘Lord Stephen shines like a young god, does he not,’ Saint-Valery said.

I did not know what to say, and hid my confusion with a sip of wine.

‘It is said that the earl seeks a foreign princess for his eldest son’s wife,’ Saint-Valery added.

‘And Lord Stephen would be worthy of such,’ I murmured, hoping it was the right thing to say.

‘But fear not,’ Saint-Valery said, ‘I am sure that Stephen will not forget you. Most lords take mistresses, and Stephen would treat such a woman well, I think. Perhaps you —’

‘I would not want such a thing!’ I said, hoping I had injected enough righteous indignation into my voice.

‘I was only going to suggest that you might like to attend his wife, as you do now his mother,’ Saint-Valery said, his eyes glinting with humour.

I was angry with him. It was not what he had wanted to suggest at all.

‘The Lady Adelie says she shall find me a gentle husband,’ I said.

‘As I am sure she can,’ Saint-Valery said. ‘A knight such as your father, perhaps … a man of gentle name and rank but with little lands nor any offices to his name. You do not have a large dowry, do you? No, I thought not. Possibly none at all, knowing your father. Virtue is all very well, Mistress Maeb, but not when your “gentle” marriage means you shall need to glean with your peasant womenfolk so you might have bread for your table.’

I could not reply. I was furiously angry with him now, not simply for his ungenerous words and bawdry, but at the fact that he seemed to know my circumstances all too well. He knew of my father and his lack of extensive lordships and coin, but I had not once mentioned it.

Who had been discussing me with Saint-Valery? And why?

‘Maeb,’ Saint-Valery said, ‘I only speak of the ways of the world and of the court. Virtue is all very well, but not when it condemns you to servitude. You are a beautiful woman. You must have seen the eyes that pass your way. And you are spirited, and many a nobleman likes that in a woman. Yet you have no dowry. Not even the care of Lady Adelie could win for you anything but the basest knight. I only wish to open your mind to the possibilities.’

‘I can only hope for the basest knight, my lord? Then surely that puts you well within my reach. Speak to Lady Adelie, and I am yours.’

Saint-Valery stared at me, then roared with laughter. Everyone about us paused to look, and from the corner of my eye I saw those at the high table turn to us as well.

I flamed with colour, and wondered if I should stand, and leave.

‘Maeb,’ Evelyn murmured, ‘just dip your head at the high table, and smile graciously, then return to your meal.’

I did so, almost unable to bear to look at them. Stephen was smiling, Lady Adelie looked a little concerned, Pengraic’s face was a mask of disdain, and, sweet Jesu, the king actually nodded at me and raised his wine cup slightly.

Mistress Yvette merely looked cross.

All I had wanted was to enjoy the evening, and yet now it was tainted.

‘My lord,’ Evelyn said to Saint-Valery. ‘You speak too boldly to Maeb. She is young, and untutored in courtly ways. You accuse her of teasing, and yet you are unmerciful in it. Be wary, I pray you, for both the earl and the countess take good care of her well-being and happiness.’

I admired Evelyn then as never before. She had spoken gently, and yet even so, she had issued Saint-Valery a stern warning. Well might Saint-Valery have the ear and the regard of the king, yet he could ill afford to make an enemy of the earl.

Saint-Valery inclined his head, accepting the rebuke.

‘I beg your forgiveness, Mistress Maeb,’ he said, and the apology in his voice seemed genuine. ‘I have not spoken well, and that was discourteous of me.’

I gave a small nod, accepting his apology, although the unhappiness must have been obvious on my face. For the next few minutes we ate in silence, then the awkwardness was broken when the Earl of Summersete rose — for what reason I do not know — and in the doing bumped into a servant directly behind his chair. The servant was carrying yet another platter of food, and all went flying, servant and earl both, the food spattering in a gravy-laden arc about them.

My mouth twitched, happy to see that even such a nobleman as the earl could make as much a fool of himself as I might, and I heard muffled chortles all about me.

‘I am glad to see you smile again, Maeb,’ Saint-Valery said. ‘Will you forgive me enough to talk with me again?’

I was happy enough to do so, for in my amusement I had put aside all my anger and embarrassment. Thus, as the meal progressed, we chatted of this and that, Saint-Valery pointing out nobles and retainers at the tables and telling me a little of each.

‘Your lord has put on a goodly feast for his king,’ Saint-Valery said as the feast drew toward its final dishes. ‘He has done himself proud in Edmond’s eyes.’

‘And his household had little enough time in which to do so,’ I said. I did not particularly like the earl, from my brief encounters with him, but I was happy enough to bolster the regard of his household.

‘It is all a great flurry,’ Saint-Valery said. ‘One moment we were happy in court at Edmond’s palace at Westminster, the next we are fleeing eastward to Oxeneford, detouring to collect the earl’s family. What can be the matter do you think? It must be dire news.’

I had by this stage had a great amount of the spiced wine to drink, and its headiness had fuzzed my mind.

But not enough to endanger my head by babbling the secrets I had heard that day in the solar.

‘It is terrible news, I have heard, my lord.’

‘Yes?’ he said, leaning a little closer.

Beside me, I felt Evelyn stiffen.

‘Aye,’ I said. ‘I have heard …’ I paused, drawing out the moment, ‘ … I have heard that the very dryads from the woods threaten the king! They rustle their leaves, and the king grows anxious!’

Saint-Valery chuckled. ‘You have done well, Mistress Maeb. No doubt you know I shall be reporting thus to Edmond. I —’

‘Mistress Maeb,’ said the Earl of Pengraic’s voice, and a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. ‘I would speak with you privately if I might.’

My stomach fell away. I looked up at the earl’s face. It was impassive, but I thought I saw anger in his eyes.

Sweet Jesu, what had I done so wrong he needed to single me out like this?

I murmured a politeness to Saint-Valery, then rose and walked after the earl out of the hall.

I could feel the eyes following me as I went.

Pengraic led me to a quiet corner by the staircase, then turned to me.

‘What did Saint-Valery speak with you about?’ he said.

‘We chatted of the court, and he pointed out the nobles to me, and —’

‘Did he ask about the meeting in the solar?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said that the king had learned the dryads in the forests threatened to shake their leaves at him, and thus he fled Westminster.’

Foolishly, I thought he would laugh at my wit as had Saint-Valery.

‘What do you know of the dryads in the woods?’ the earl snapped.

‘I am sorry, my lord,’ I stuttered, ‘I only thought to deflect Saint-Valery’s interest.’

The earl simply stared at me.

‘I am sorry, my lord,’ I repeated, and hung my head. It was aching now from all the excitement and the wine, and all I wanted was to escape everyone and flee back to my chamber.

‘You think too much of yourself, Maeb.’

I bit my lip. I did not know what to say.

He sighed, and I found the courage to look at him again.

The earl’s face had lost all its anger and now only looked tired. I realised that he, as the king and everyone who had arrived with them, had been riding for a full day and night and must be exhausted.

‘Maeb, my lady wife will need all your love and care on your journey to Pengraic. She is not well with this child.’

‘I know, my lord. She shall have it. I care for her greatly.’

He studied me, then gave a small nod. ‘I am very much afraid the world shall be a dark place for many months to come.’

I was feeling ever more uncomfortable, mainly because I had not thought to see the earl this vulnerable — he had always been so proud and strong and terrible to me — and that vulnerability frightened me.

‘Maeb, remember this, and remember it well. Every word spoken is carried by the wind to each corner of this mortal earth, and to the ears of God and the Devil. Remember it.’

‘I will, my lord.’

In my tiredness I could not grasp what he meant, nor could I foretell that my utter failure to remember his words in time to come would make a wreck and a mockery of my entire world.

Just then Evelyn appeared, pausing a few steps away.

The earl nodded to her, then he walked toward the hall.

Before he had gone too far, I called out to him. ‘My lord? I have said nothing to Saint-Valery, nor anyone else. Truly.’

He looked at me a long moment. ‘I know that,’ he said, then he walked off.

I put a hand to my head. ‘Evelyn, I think I need to go to bed. Is it seemly that I leave the feast now?’

She smiled and came close, taking my arm. ‘Yes. No one will take offence. Come now, I have had enough myself, and I think those at high table are making murmurs about their beds, too. Yvette will look after our lady and we will make sure Alice and her sister and the boys find their beds, and then we will sleep.’

Much later I lay in the bed I shared with Evelyn, unable to sleep even though my head throbbed and my limbs ached with weariness. My mind could not stop, revisiting everything I had seen and heard and done this day.

After a while I felt Evelyn’s hand on my arm. ‘You did well today, Maeb. I do not know what you heard in the solar, but if all that wine Saint-Valery pressed on you did not loosen your tongue, then little else but torture will … and I do not think you need worry about that in our company.’

I chuckled. ‘Not even from the earl?’

Evelyn laughed softly. ‘I think he might be too tired, but maybe next week, when he is recovered …’

‘Evelyn … may I ask something of your life?’

‘Of course. I have little to hide.’

‘Are you wed? I was wondering this evening, as we walked into the hall …’

‘And you wondered if I could have my pick of all the men?’ Evelyn laughed again. ‘Maybe so, but I have little interest. Yes, I was wed, but my husband died within a year of our marriage and eventually I took service with my lady. I have a daughter from that marriage, fourteen summers this year.’

‘Truly? Where is she now?’

‘In service to the household of Sir Roger de Tosny at Redmeleie, north of Glowecestre.’

I considered her words — thinking Evelyn would be a good mother and that she must miss her daughter. ‘You do not wish to wed again?’

She took a long time answering, and I wondered if she had fallen asleep or if perchance I had hit on the little she did want to hide.

‘I will tell you this, Maeb, not only because I like you, but also because you will hear of it soon enough from someone else. I was only surprised Saint-Valery did not speak of it to you — but then I suppose he had his reasons to keep silent. I also tell you of this because of the way Edmond looked at you this morning. When you fell from your courtesy … by the Blessed Virgin, Maeb, you did not see him almost fall himself in his rush to aid you!’

She paused. ‘I did long for another man once, and lived for those hours I spent in his arms, but there was no question of marriage. Maeb, I was the king’s lover for one summer. I loved him with every breath I took, but … his whims burn furious and then fade fast. Many others have replaced me in his bed since that summer and my own passion for him has long since died. It was a summer’s fancy only. He looks upon me kindly now, but I swear he has forgot that once he took me to his bed. Now, no, I have little interest in finding myself another husband. I have a secure home with the countess, and after Edmond …’

I was struck dumb. I had not expected this confession.

‘And now he wants you, Maeb. But he will not touch you, not yet. Not while you remain unwed — that is his idea of courtesy.’ She gave a brief, soft laugh. ‘But if ever you do wed, my sweet, and return to court, beware of his interest. He has marked you well. Saint-Valery was at your side this evening for good reason and it had little to do with whether or not you prattled about what you heard in the solar. Edmond wants to know you better, and the only way he can do that for the moment is through Saint-Valery. Even now Saint-Valery will be at the king’s side, whispering quietly in his ear. Be careful, Maeb. Be very, very careful.’