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

him a coin, Elen, " Matilda commented abruptly, scarcely noticing as Elen, blushing, groped in the purse at her girdle for a quarter penny. She took a deep breath and, holding aside the hangings, opened the door.

The large solar behind it was full of women. Hawise Fitzherbert, Countess of Gloucester, large and florid, was surrounded by her tiring women, her voice, shrill with impatience and ill-humor, clearly floating above the subdued chatter around her. She turned as Matilda came in and, catching sight of her, raised her narrowly plucked eyebrows till they almost vanished into her hairline.

"Not another one. Has every woman in the country been sent to attend us?" She pursed her mouth sourly.

"The king, Lady Gloucester, asked me to attend your daughter today. " Matilda, her cheeks burning, bobbed a small curtsey, conscious of the eyes that were all focused on her.

The woman snorted. "You and who else? Well, madam, and who might you be?"

"Matilda de Braose, Countess. " Matilda took a deep breath, determined not to be put out.

"Never heard of you. " The woman seemed determined to be ill-natured. She turned to take a brooch from an attendant and then paused as another lady stepped from the throng.

"Lady de Braose is the wife of Sir William, Countess, Lord of Brecknock in the middle March. It is a great honor that she should wait upon the little lady during her betrothal to Prince John. " She spoke in a stage whisper, designed to be heard by everyone in the room, and Matilda saw the countess pause and frown, looking at her again, and she blessed her unknown champion.

She drew herself up. "Where is the Lady Isabella? May I offer her my greetings?"

The countess held herself upright, holding in her stomach as her gown was laced up, and then held out her arms for her girdle. "You can try, " she said grudgingly. "She's sniveling in the garderobe. "

With a swift glance at Elen, Matilda strode across the room. The women stepped back to let her pass and she could feel their eyes uncomfortably on her back, but her attention was fixed on the little side room from where she could hear the sound of heartbroken sobs.

In the corner, huddling on the floor beneath a rail of hanging clothes, a little girl was weeping as though her heart would break, clutching a rag doll. A large plump-faced nurse bent over her, coaxing, and behind, two maids hovered, clutching a selection of gowns and little mantles with which they were obviously hoping to dress her.

"What's the matter?" Matilda demanded, looking down at the child. She was horrified to see the little girl dirty and unkempt. Her hair was tangled with grass and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes.

"She tried to run away, madam, that's what's the matter. " The nurse gave up coaxing and stood, her hands on her hips, looking down at the child in exasperation. "Here we are, with everyone nearly ready to go to the abbey, and the child refuses to dress. She says she wants none of the king's son. Imagine! How dare she, the little minx. You wait till her father gets wind of this. He'll take the strap to her buttocks until they're raw. "

The little girl gave another sob and clutched her doll more tightly.

"Well, he won't get to hear of it, " said Matilda quietly, trying resolutely to keep her temper with the insensitive woman. Her heart went out to the little girl. She had a sudden vivid picture of her own betrothal to William. She too had been a child, not much older than this one. She who had dreamed of a tall, radiant, chivalrous knight had been informed by her father with excitement of the great honor that had been done his family, that she had been chosen by the stocky, ill-tempered baron whose reputation even then was marred by cruelty and viciousness. Her first reaction too had been to run away. But then she sat down on her favorite spot on the hill and thought about her duty and, at heart a realist, about what chance she had of ever having a better offer of marriage. She had come home, apologized to her frightened mother, wheedled her angry father, and resigned herself to making the most of it, comforting herself with the thought that she was to be a great lady. But could she persuade this child to see the sense in that? This little girl whose real world was still peopled by dolls and puppies and her snow-white pony.

"Please, nurse, will you leave us for a while?" She turned and forced herself to give the agitated woman her most brilliant smile. "I'd like a little talk with Isabella. "

The woman drew herself up to argue, but already Elen, who had followed close at her mistress's heels, was pushing her out, and the two protesting maids with her. Then she stood, her back to the doorway, panting.

"Silly women, " she muttered. "Clucking like so many chickens, they are indeed. Poor cariad bach. "

Matilda knelt down in the rushes and held out her arms to the little girl. "Come here, Isabella, my love. Tell me what's wrong. Why are you so unhappy?"

Whether it was the sympathy in her voice, or the sight of a stranger, she couldn't tell, but Isabella, with another strangled sob, scrambled to her feet and rushed to her, throwing herself into Matilda's outstretched arms.

"There, there, child. There, there. " Matilda rocked her gently for a while, touched by the feel of the tiny, frail body, so thin beneath the skimpy clothes. Then as the child's sobbing grew less, she pushed back the fair hair from her hot face and smiled gently at her. "Come on, sweeting, tell me what's wrong. "

"I don't want to be betrothed. " Isabella sniffed loudly. "I hate John. He's a bad, wicked boy. I don't want to be married to him, ever. "

"Why, Isabella? Why not? Why do you