Part 9 (2/2)
Alisoun looked up.
The warning in her gaze stopped Edlyn, and she reconsidered. Then she said defiantly, ”Well, he hasn't treated you well for a long time now.”
Alisoun had hoped n.o.body had noticed. She believed that for her people to feel secure, their leaders should be united in purpose. She knew, without doubt, that she, as the lady, should be the highest authority.
In retrospect, she realized she had placed her confidence in the wrong man. She had chosen Sir Walter, raised him from his place as a lowly knight. Then he had not only taken it on himself to reprove her, but he had failed to do the one thing she thought him able to do. When the a.s.saults had begun and she demanded a solution, Sir Walter had suggested that Alisoun remain within the castle walls. For a woman whose responsibilities required that she ride to the village, to the fields, to her other estates, such a remedy proved one thing only-Sir Walter was incompetent. He would have to step aside, at least until the issue had been resolved.
Yet Alisoun didn't know if anything could ever be resolved. Even if Sir David successfully kept her tormentor at bay, she feared-she knew-she would never be sure of her peace. But she'd done what she'd done. Dear G.o.d, what choice had she had?
”Edlyn, I've had a letter from your parents.” She didn't try to infuse enthusiasm into her voice. She knew that would only frighten the girl more. ”They have chosen your husband.”
Edlyn's hands faltered. She almost dropped the spindle, and Alisoun heard the audible breath she drew. But she regained her composure with a speed that made Alisoun proud. ”Did they tell you his name?”
She'd been practicing, Alisoun thought. She'd been expecting to hear, and practicing her reaction to the news. ”It is Lawton, duke of Cleere. It is a very good match for you.”
”Cleere?” The spindle began to spin too rapidly. ”Where is Cleere?”
”In the south of England.”
”How far south?”
”In Wess.e.x.”
Edlyn's skin paled to the color of ivory, her lips turned almost blue, but she said nothing.
Heart aching, Alisoun said, ”I've met him. He's a good man.”
”Does he have land closer to-” Edlyn swallowed, ”-here?”
”Not that I know of, but perhaps your family gave him a parcel of land as dowry.”
Edlyn stared at Alisoun until Alisoun looked away. ”My family has six girls. They cannot afford to give parcels of land away with every marriage. So...he's a duke. I'm marrying a duke, and my family has nothing to give with me. Lady Alisoun?”
”Aye?” Alisoun responded as she should, with no emotion whatever. Almost no emotion.
”What's wrong with the duke of Cleere?” Edlyn asked.
”There's nothing wrong with him.” Alisoun realized she dithered while Edlyn waited in agony. ”He's a little older than I would have chosen.”
Edlyn's voice rose an octave. ”Older than David?”
G.o.d s.h.i.+eld the child. She thought David old. ”Older than two Davids.”
”I'm going to go away to a far place, and probably never see you or my family again, to be the wife of a man who...does he have any teeth?” Edlyn read the answer in Alisoun's expression. ”Or hair?”
”He's got hair,” Alisoun said quickly.
Edlyn stared at Alisoun with unnatural calm. ”I've been praying every morning at ma.s.s for a man who...not for a handsome man, or a clever man, or a rich man, but one who...” She shuddered. ”He'll want to kiss me, like Sir David did with you, and he won't have any teeth. He'll touch me all over, and his hands will be all dry-feeling like a serpent's, and he'll want me to touch him. All saggy and...”
Alisoun couldn't stand it anymore. ”Edlyn.” She laid her hand on the girl's head. ”I know Lord Lawton, and I give you my word, he is as kind and generous a man as any woman could want. Nothing can turn the clock back and make him young again. Nothing can move his home closer to mine. But you, of all people, know how important it is to have a husband who will treat you gently. I swear to you, he will do so.” Edlyn's head drooped, and Alisoun slid to her knees and looked up into her face. ”I've been praying, too, and I'm not dissatisfied with the results.”
”He'll die, won't he?”
She should reprimand the girl for ill-wis.h.i.+ng such a good man, but such self-righteous nonsense was beyond her now. ”Sooner or later.”
”I hope he doesn't get me with child.” Edlyn seemed to be unaware that she was speaking her thoughts aloud. ”I don't want to die before him in childbed.”
No cruelty discolored her words, only a plaintive wish for life, and Alisoun found herself without the proper thing to say.
”Lady Alisoun, I think I'll go to the chapel. I need to develop the proper resignation.” Edlyn smiled, a poor, pitiful thing, a smile not unlike the one Alisoun saw on so many wives' faces. ”Perhaps I can find it there.”
Watching Edlyn wander toward the stairwell, Alisoun wondered what had happened to the well-arranged life she'd lived for so long. In her conceit, she thought that if one planned properly, observed clearly, and always shouldered one's responsibilities without reservation, one would escape the clutter and disorganization which ruled the lives of others. It had worked for years. For years, she had been undisputed lady of all she surveyed, unbothered by heartache, sedition, danger, or confusion. It had seemed to her that she had discovered the magic formula others sought, and the ease with which she worked it gave her a faint sensation of superiority.
Although her organization remained firmly in place, the heartache and sedition had found her. Heartache for Edlyn, suddenly an adult, but with a child's vulnerability. Sedition from Sir Walter. Danger from Osbern. And confusion...Slowly, she leaned down and picked up the spindle Edlyn had dropped. Confusion. G.o.d's s.h.i.+eld, David of Radcliffe seemed to sow confusion all around him.
”Lady Alisoun is imagining things.” Sir Walter paced along the high walk atop the castle wall.
From here, they could see all the way down the hill to the village and well beyond, and David listened to Sir Walter while observing with a warrior's eyes. ”There wasn't an arrow shot at her?”
”An arrow shot, aye. At her?” Sir Walter chuckled and threw his arm around David's shoulders in a man-to-man gesture. ”Nay.”
David stopped beside a crenellation and leaned out to look across Alisoun's land, soft and green in the falling rain. The movement sc.r.a.ped Sir Walter's arm off on the stone, and he wished he could sc.r.a.pe Sir Walter off as easily. The man had been d.o.g.g.i.ng his footsteps and answering questions in such a munificent spirit he had convinced David of his culpability. Did he think David stupid? Or was he hoping to correct the mistake he'd made-to retain his position, or to diffuse suspicion? ”Did you find the archer, then?”
”Nay, but poachers are notorious for being swift in escape, and none of them are likely to admit to shooting an arrow that had hit their lady.”
The forest had been cut back on all sides of the castle, leaving no easy cover for attackers, but nothing could remove the giant rocks which thrust themselves up through the flesh of the earth like bones from a compound fracture. ”Why would anyone want to shoot at their lady?”
”Lady Alisoun won't listen to...” David twisted around and leaned his shoulder against the mossy stone, and Sir Walter pulled a rueful face. ”Well, you may have noticed, she has a mind of her own. She's made unpopular decisions at times, but I doubt that anyone shot at her on purpose. I think it was a wild shot.”
”Hm.” David walked toward the tower nearest the keep. It overlooked the sea, and the scenery beyond changed from soft pastels to vivid stains of color. The purple sea reflected the clouds. Sea creatures rode through the snowy foam on the waves, flipping their browns and grays over and over with no caution for the wet, black rocks. Such a contrast, David mused. The domesticated calm of the village and fields and the ferocity of the water. Lady Alisoun belonged to the domestic side of this castle, just as the domestic side belonged to her.
Yet she'd grown up in the keep, and the keep hugged the ocean, using its rugged backdrop as a natural defense. She'd heard the waves breaking with every storm, smelled the salt and s.h.i.+vered in the untamed wind. Had Alisoun, strong as she was, resisted the might of the sea? Or had the sea formed that part of her that roiled in hidden ecstasy?
”Would you perhaps like to visit the stables?” Sir Walter clapped his hands and rubbed the palms together. ”You can see the arrangements we made for King Louis. He's a very famous horse, and we're honored to have him in our care.”
”Aye? Has he spit on you yet?” The corner tower rose before them, and David opened the tiny door. Ivo huddled close to the basket of coals that heated the guardroom.
Sir Walter leaped through the door as if one of the coals had fallen in his braies. ”Get out to your duty.”
Ivo just turned his head and stared. David didn't know whom the big man-at-arms despised more-him or Sir Walter. But if the man despised Sir Walter, that was all to the good. That att.i.tude could be used for David's own purposes, especially since Ivo had shown his unwavering loyalty to Alisoun. Strolling to the basket, he stretched out his hands. ”I don't know, Sir Walter. Perhaps we should ask Ivo who fired the shot.”
”He doesn't know anything.” Sir Walter spoke too quickly. ”He's just an ignorant man-at-arms.”
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