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

arms around her and the feel of his mouth on hers. Whatever the danger, she needed him. But he had gone.

She put her head in her arms and wept.

It was Richard who had come between them. If she had not met Richard, could she have loved the prince who had favored her with his passion? Richard. Always Richard. The name ran in her head. Had Matilda, in those last months, seen Richard again?

She raised her head and glanced at the door. Ann too had made her promise never to try to regress again alone, but surely, just once more, just to find out if there was news of Richard. After all, Matilda had not died in Ireland. There could be no danger yet. Just ten minutes, that was all she needed, to search her memory for a sight of him once more —to take her mind off John.

She tiptoed to the door and turned the key, then she sat down in front of the window. Putting her hands on the sill, she fixed her eyes on the huge silvered moon and deliberately she began to empty her mind.

It was late in the evening when they reached the castle of Trim. Somewhere a blackbird had begun to sing softly, warbling in the green twilight. At last the rain had stopped and a watery sun sent slanting shadows across the track. The great gates of the castle swung slowly open and their horses trotted over the drawbridge and into the shadowy bailey to safety.

Margaret greeted her mother with open arms, hugging her and trying to loosen her thick cloak at the same moment, laughing and brushing away the tears. Then Walter too came forward to greet her; tall and handsome as ever, a humorous glint in his eyes. "So my two reprobate parents-in-law come to see us at last. " He bent to kiss her and took her hands. "Welcome to Trim, Lady Matilda. We'll keep you safe, never fear. " He guided her to the fire, leaving his wife to greet her father and brothers, and he stood for a moment studying her face. Matilda avoided his eye, embarrassed, conscious suddenly of the silvered hair snatched untidily from her veil by the wind and of the lines that worry, hard weather, and fear had etched around her eyes, and of the swollen, ugly hands he held so gently in his own. He raised one of them to his lips and kissed it. "Have you the strength to see Margaret's pride and joy before you rest, Mother?" He spoke so quietly she almost missed his words against the background of noise in the hall beyond them. "I know she had no chance to tell you and you'll have had no way of hearing the news. Our prayers were answered at last. We have a little daughter. "

"Oh, Walter!" Matilda's tired face lighted with happiness. She pulled away from him and turned back to Margaret. "Why didn't you tell me instantly, you wicked girl? Take me to see her quickly, my darling, before I really do collapse with exhaustion. "

But with the best will in the world she found as she followed her daughter up the steep stairs toward the nursery quarters high in the keep that she was trembling violently. She pressed her hand against her heart, feeling its irregular fluttering, and took a deep breath at every turn in the stairs, forcing herself to follow steadily as Margaret, her skirts held high, ran ahead of her. "We've called her Egidia, " the girl called over her shoulder. "Oh, Mother, she's the most beautiful child you've ever seen. She's a pearl. "

Matilda followed her into the nursery and sank heavily onto the stool that the plump, motherly nurse left as they approached the crib. Her heart was pounding uncontrollably and she felt suddenly overwhelmed with nausea and faintness, but somehow she managed to force herself to lean forward and admire the small sleeping face, two tiny webs of dark lashes lying so peacefully on the pink cheeks.

"She's beautiful, darling. " Matilda smiled shakily.

Margaret had been watching her closely. "You're not well, Mother. What's wrong? You shouldn't have let me rush you up those stairs. " She dropped to her knees in the strewn herbs at her mother's side, suddenly contrite. "I was so excited at seeing you and knowing that you were safe at long last. "

Matilda smiled and patted her hand. "I'm all right. It has just taken so long to get to you, that's all. The marshall was so kind to us, then the new justiciar appeared and threatened to betray us. The dear old marshall defied him, of course, but he had so few men. He thought we'd be safer here. "

"And so you are, Mother. " Margaret hugged her again. "You will all be perfectly safe here, you'll see. "

Matilda smiled sadly and glanced back into the cradle, where the baby was screwing its tiny face into a thoughtful, wizened caricature of itself in its sleep. "Perhaps, my dear, perhaps" was all she said, but in her heart she knew their optimism was but a vain hope. Once again she found John's face before her, haunting her; the handsome, spare features, the straight nose, the cold blue eyes, the cruel mouth that once had sought and held her own. She felt something tighten in her chest again, but this time she knew it was fear.

When the letter came, Matilda had no premonition that it was from Richard. She had watched Walter unroll it and scrutinize the lines of close black writing, her eyes calm, her face serene as she listened to Margaret singing to herself as she worked on a piece of tapestry by the light of the high window.

Slowly Walter climbed to his feet. He passed the letter to Matilda with a grin. "News to please you, Mother-in-law, I think, " he said softly. Then, beckoning Margaret after him, he strode out of the hall.

Matilda