Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine (reading an ebook TXT) 📕

delicate silvery waif of a child, strangely reserved, giving no love and expecting none in return; and last little Reginald, a sturdy two-year-old, fair like his sister, but as different from her as from the other two boys. They had all turned and waved back at her and shouted as the long procession of horsemen and wagons lumbered into motion. With them rode Nell. Poor Nell. Married and widowed within a few months, she had returned broken-hearted to Matilda, and, grateful to have been put in charge of the nurseries now that old Jeanne was at last dead, she ruled them with a gentle, eager love that had won the affection of nurses and boys alike. With the little girl she had no more success than Matilda.

Matilda had watched them ride off into the forest together until they were out of sight, then had turned sadly away.

Now, painfully, she began to dress, easing her aching limbs into the shift Elen held ready for her, then her gown and tunic. Last of all she held out her arms for her thick fur-lined cloak. The damp autumn winds had been cutting through to the bone as they hurled leaves, rain-sodden and brown, across their horses' paths on the long rides between castles. She shivered at the thought of it. But on the whole she was glad that William had decided they should winter in Hay this year. Hay was hers. In spite of everything Bramber still belonged to the ghosts of Bertha and old Sir William. And at Hay she would never meet the king.

She had pondered often on old Jeanne's prophecy, picturing again the harsh face of King Henry. He held every man's destiny in his hand, but why hers especially? She shivered— she had made the sign against evil again and again in recent months, sometimes feeling the huge eyes of little Matilda fixed on her face.

"I still think you should tell Sir William you're not well, my lady. " Elen's chin was beginning to stick out in the way Matilda knew so well. "At least order a litter to carry you. "

"No. " Matilda rounded on her. "Be quiet, Elen. I will not have the litter. And I will not have Sir William told yet. I feel better as soon as I'm riding. Send for some hot broth for now, before I go down. "

Elen signaled to the plump serving maid who had been squatting on her heels before the blazing fire and the girl disappeared. Elen snorted. "There's a lazy wench. She wouldn't lift a finger if she didn't have to. I'll be bound she sends someone else up with it. " She began to busy herself packing away the last of the clothes and strapping the small coffer that stood at the end of the bed. Sure enough, when the broth arrived, it was not carried by the same girl. Elen went to meet the woman who held it. "I'll give it to my lady. You can go. "

The woman handed it over without a word. She seemed about to turn, then she hesitated, her eyes going to the tall figure standing huddled in the heavy mantle by the end of the bed.

"Arglwyddes! My lady!" The woman's voice was low and lilting.

"I said you can go. " Elen turned, her eyes flashing. "My lady does not want to be disturbed. Leave her in peace. "

The other woman half raised her hand as though waving Elen aside. To the girl's indignation she took a step nearer.

"Be silent, bach. I must talk with Lady Matilda. I must. " She sounded troubled.

Matilda swung around suddenly, letting her cloak fall behind her. "Who's that?" She peered at the woman, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest at the sound of a voice that stirred a chord in her memory. "What do you want?" As the woman looked up at her at last she recognized her with a violent sense of shock. "Megan, " she whispered. "Is it you?"

"So you remember me, my lady?" Megan stood for a moment, her hands clasped in front of her, looking steadily at Matilda's face.

Matilda looked down at the carpet of rushes, gently rustling in the draft. "I tried to forget, Megan. I tried to forget everything that happened at Abergavenny. Even you. "

Megan nodded. "I knew you would. "

"What is it?" Elen suddenly stepped forward. "What is it, my lady? Who is this... this person?" She looked Megan up and down haughtily.

"This person, cariad, has come to have words with your mistress. " Megan turned on her sharply. "Now you, girl, go about your business. Put the broth down before you spill it. Oy a Duw!" She shook her hands in agitation as Elen slopped the broth on the rushes. "Now go, I said. And you too, boy. " She turned to the page who had come in behind her and leaned against the wall, watching the proceedings with interest while he chewed a straw.

Matilda raised an eyebrow. "Elen is my friend, Megan. Only I tell her to go. "

"Well, then, tell her, my lady, now and quickly. If she's so high and mighty, why's she waiting on you then? She should be in the hall. "

Matilda hid a smile. The two Welshwomen were alike in height and build, although Elen's hair was fiery and Megan's white beneath her veil. They were eyeing each other like two bantam cocks.

"Do as she says, please, Elen. " She spoke firmly. "I'll take my broth while Megan is with me. " She held out her hand for the bowl.

Elen cast a furious glance at her rival, then, pushing the now half-empty bowl of soup into her mistress's hands, she turned and flounced out.

Once she had gone, Megan seemed to lose her confidence once more. She stood, her eyes on the floor, twisting her fingers nervously together as Matilda sank thankfully into her chair and picked up the carved bone spoon. The room was silent for a while as