Part 20 (1/2)
Alisoun surged to her feet. ”But why?”
”Not for lack of hospitality in you,” Philippa a.s.sured her. ”But because...oh, sometimes I think it was all my fault, and if I went back, I could-”
”Die,” Alisoun interrupted flatly. ”And leave your baby alone for as long as she survived.”
Now Philippa sank onto a seat, her complexion several shades paler. ”In sooth, you're right. But I may be forced, and neither one of us will be able to do anything about it.”
”I know.” Of course Alisoun knew. She had nightmares about being helpless in that situation. Walking over, she put her hand on Philippa's shoulder.
Philippa patted it, then looked up. ”So. Sir David has many good qualities and he's right about a lot of things. Did he say anything about marriage?”
Alisoun didn't want to discuss that, not even with Philippa, so she stared at the clothing laid across the bed. ”Why did you bring the yellow cotte? That's not my work dress.”
”Because your people believe you simply celebrated the wedding night before the ceremony. It's common among the villeins, and quite a few of the n.o.ble people I've known have done it as well. I think they expect to see you in something besides that gloomy old brown work dress.”
Alisoun stuck out her lip and removed her old s.h.i.+ft.
”Did he mention marriage?” Philippa s.n.a.t.c.hed the clean s.h.i.+ft away before Alisoun could don it. ”And you're not getting dressed until you tell me.”
”Very well! I'll tell you.”
Philippa handed her the s.h.i.+ft.
”He mentioned it.” Alisoun dressed as quickly as she could and headed for the door with Philippa on her heels.
Philippa didn't say another word, and Alisoun thought she had escaped easily until she stepped into the great hall. Then the impact of a dozen pair of eager eyes. .h.i.t her, and she almost staggered from the weight of expectation that descended on her shoulders. She glanced back at Philippa and saw that her shoulders shook as she suppressed her amus.e.m.e.nt. Alisoun whispered, ”This isn't funny!”
The outer door blew open and slammed against the wall. Sir Walter stomped into the great hall and glowered around him, and Philippa abruptly straightened. ”You're right. This isn't.”
So much confused Alisoun now, but she knew one thing. She'd told Sir Walter to stay away from her, and now he stalked toward her, totally ignoring her command.
She didn't care what had happened in the night. She didn't care that David had tossed her sheet into the vegetable garden. She only cared that Sir Walter disobeyed her. She marched to meet him, calling across the gap, ”Why are you here when I told you-”
”Did he hurt you?” Sir Walter wrapped his arm around her shoulders as if he thought she couldn't stand alone. ”Did that mercenary force you? For I vow, my lady, if he did, I don't care who he is, I'll kill him.”
Alisoun staggered, off balance both mentally and physically. ”Of course he didn't force me.”
”You can tell me, my lady. After all, you have no brothers and no father to protect you.”
”I don't need protecting,” Alisoun said firmly. ”At least, not from Sir David.”
”How did it happen? Did he hold you down, or did he-” he choked with what looked like embarra.s.sment, ”-seduce you?”
”I think I...seduced him.”
His arm dropped away from her. They glanced at each other, eyes wide, but for the first time in months, no hostility existed between them. Both were uncertain; both struggled to comprehend the sweep of changes in George's Cross.
Alisoun couldn't conceive of a George's Cross without Sir Walter, not even after their disagreements. He had been a valuable servant; it would behoove her to try and understand his discontent rather than go through the trouble of training a new steward. She said, ”If it would please you, we could talk.”
”There.” He pointed to a bench in the corner.
Together, they went and sat down. They looked out at the great hall, and the servants who stared so curiously turned away as if to give them privacy. In actuality, of course, they wanted to hear, and all lingered as close as they dared.
Sir Walter didn't seem to notice them. He sat stiffly, could hardly speak. ”Sir David was...your choice?”
She found herself similarly afflicted. ”I have to have someone to...ah...” How to tell him what she thought when she didn't know for sure what she thought herself? She tried to think how to present this in a manner he could comprehend. ”I want an heir. Or...I wanted an heir, but Sir David demands that I marry him if I conceive, so...”
Sir Walter leaned back and sighed in relief. ”At least someone is thinking clearly.”
Surprise moved her beyond embarra.s.sment. ”You wish me to marry Sir David?”
”My lady, you have no choice! The deed is done. You've mated with him, and the news has by now no doubt reached London.”
”You exaggerate.”
”Do I?” He leaned toward her, his fists on his knees. ”Do you know what they're saying in the village? That you're the reason for the drought for the last two years, because your womanhood was drying up and the saints disapproved of the waste.”
Stunned, she stammered, ”They...they've blamed me for the drought?”
”Not before. Not until now. That wretched reeve Fenchel started it, I trow. He's the one who always watches the signs, and he says that it started raining the day Sir David arrived and has rained just the right amount since. No heavy downpours have broken the crops or washed away the soil. No dry spells where the plants struggle and show yellow.”
”So it's Sir David who broke the drought.”
”Nay, he says 'tis you. You're the lady, the one they wors.h.i.+p as the spirit of George's Cross. They say that Sir David's coming has renewed your youthfulness and turned you once again from a withering crone to a fruitful G.o.ddess.”
”That's pagan.”
”Aye, they are half-pagan, you know that.” He harumphed and looked out at the busily working servants. ”The virgin has been sacrificed, the blood sacrifice has been made, and now prosperity is guaranteed to George's Cross.”
”Saint Ethelred save us,” she said faintly.
”If Fenchel is right, then the child is conceived and my lady, you must marry Sir David!”
”I thought you disapproved of Sir David. You've certainly done all you can to ravage his good standing.”
”I fear my dislike had little to do with Sir David. I couldn't sleep last night, and during the dark time I thought long and deeply.” Sir Walter hung his head. ”I apologize for showing his incompetence to George's Cross. I was so blinded with fury that you'd brought him to replace me, I never thought you would have a plan, and that that plan depended on something as simple as his reputation as a legend. It was a stroke of genius, my lady, and I should have known you better than to think you would hire a mercenary without testing him.”
”Look at me,” she commanded. Searching his face, she looked for proof of sincerity and found it in the worried lines of his brow and the clench of his chin. ”I accept your apology, but I must tell you-I, too, have been angry.” She spoke slowly, trying to negotiate through this unfamiliar maze of misunderstanding and old allegiances. ”You have known me for many years. Have I ever given you reason to think me volatile or emotional?”
”Just in the matter of-”
”s.h.!.+” She cut a glance toward the servants, and he lowered his voice.
”Just the one thing, my lady, and it is so overwhelming in its lack of intelligent consideration...” He sighed like a man sorely tried.
She placed her hand on his shoulder and stared into his face. ”Everything I did before, all the years of good sense and duty, are washed away by one matter on which we disagree. I thought you would understand that I had weighed the consequences of this one act of recklessness in an efficient manner, but you did not.” She usually tried to properly consider what she said before she said it, but for once prudence failed her. Sir Walter had been her most faithful advisor for years, and his lack of faith infuriated her. ”I went from being your wise and sworn lady to being only a silly woman, and you made your opinion clear, not only to me, but to my servants, my villeins, my men-at-arms.”