'Do not speak of it,' Geoffrey soothed. He tenderly brushed the hair from her forehead and kissed her. 'You have been dreaming, that is all. The pace was too fast for you today and you are overly tired. Rest your head against me and close your eyes. All is well.'
'I am afraid,' she told him. 'If I sleep, I will have the nightmare again.'
'No, you will not,' Geoffrey whispered. He shifted positions, until Elizabeth was beneath him. His arms bore his weight, anchored on either side of his wife. 'You will dream only of making love to me,' he vowed. With those words spoken, Geoffrey leaned down and kissed Elizabeth.
He murmured words of love with a velvet voice and soothing hands that turned Elizabeth 's thoughts only to him and what he was doing to her. The nightmare was forgotten.
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth adjusted to her new home with very little difficulty. When she first sighted Geoffrey's domain, she was overwhelmed by the massive structures and the giant wall surrounding them. The stone fortress was so large that it made Montwright seem puny in comparison.
Yet once inside the walls, a cold starkness prevailed and Elizabeth found it most unsettling. She quickly set about making her mark on both the inside of the castle and the inner bailey. Geoffrey let her have her way, though he did a fair amount of balking when he found her on her knees, transplanting wildflowers the colors of the rainbow, along the castle walls. Elizabeth ignored his mock anger with teasing replies that totally undermined her husband's thoughts.
The servants, at first suspicious and frigid toward their new mistress, soon melted under her gentle smiles and softly spoken requests. They soon became her champions and eagerly awaited her next order of change. Fresh flowers adorned the tables, and bright colorful banners, carried from Montwright, graced the newly washed stone walls of the castle. Peace and contentment replaced the bleak starkness. The inhabitants of Berkley Castle were in awe. Their fortress had become a home.
By the end of July, Elizabeth was certain that she carried Geoffrey's child. She cherished the news and took several days rehearsing and planning in her mind just how she would tell Geoffrey. He would be pleased and probably act most arrogant, Elizabeth decided, and that would please her.
Elizabeth sat at the dinner table, awaiting Geoffrey. She had decided that she would share her news with him this evening, when they were alone in their bedroom. She could barely contain her excitement and found herself laughing out loud. The servants tending to the table gave her puzzled looks, and Elizabeth knew she was acting quite strange. Tomorrow, after Geoffrey had received the news, she would explain her odd behavior, and they would understand.
The soldiers began to file into the hall, and Elizabeth straightened her position, eagerly looking for Geoffrey. The squire Gerald drew her attention. He raced around two burly men and hurried over to his mistress. 'Messengers have arrived from William,' he all but shouted. 'They would speak with my lord as soon as possible.'
Elizabeth frowned over this information and then said, 'Show them into the hall, Gerald. I will tell Roger and he will find Geoffrey.'
Roger was already walking toward Elizabeth and she gave him a greeting before telling him about the messengers. 'Why are they here?' she asked, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.
'It is not unusual,' Roger answered. 'Ah, here is your husband. He will tell you the reasons.'
'You have no greeting for me?' Geoffrey said when he reached Elizabeth 's side.
Elizabeth immediately smiled and reached up to place a chaste kiss on her husband's cheek. 'I seem to remember a time when showing affection was not allowed,' she said in a whisper.
Geoffrey laughed and pulled his wife into his arms. 'That was before I realized how important it was for you to touch me,' he teased.
'I am most undisciplined,' Elizabeth responded with a grin.
'Geoffrey,' Roger interrupted, 'there are messengers from William. They await you in the corridor.'
Geoffrey nodded, seemingly undisturbed by this information. 'I thought that our king was still in Rouen,' he replied.
'He must have only just returned,' Roger commented.
Geoffrey turned back to his wife and said, 'Begin the meal without me so that my men can eat. Roger and I will see what news the king sends us.'
Elizabeth wished to listen to the messengers too, but realized that it was not her place to ask. She would have to wait and hear the news from her husband. Geoffrey had begun to confide in Elizabeth more and more, and she had no doubt that he would tell her what their king requested.
Father Hargrave, a visiting priest from nearby Northcastle, entered the room. He offered Elizabeth his arm just as Geoffrey was leaving. She assumed her role as hostess and gave the elderly priest her full attention.
Elizabeth sat beside him at the table and bowed her head while he gave the blessing, trying to concentrate on his prayer. Her mind kept returning to the messengers, speculating on various reasons why the king would send word to them, and finding none acceptable. Geoffrey had already given his required number of days' duty to his lord. William held court only three times during the year, and Geoffrey had attended those sessions also.
Perhaps it was the Domesday Book, she considered, referring to William's accounting of the number of subjects under his jurisdiction. Because the record included each person's worth, from the number of animals to the amount of coin each held, his loyal subjects grumbled among themselves and called the record the Domesday Book. Their logic was simple and, in Elizabeth 's estimation, probably quite accurate. Once the king had a true accounting of each person's worth, the taxes would be raised. It was an age-old problem, this raising of taxes, Elizabeth knew, for she had heard her father balk about the unfairness of the system more than once.
Geoffrey and Roger returned to the hall just as the meal was served. From the looks on their faces, Elizabeth knew that they were not pleased with the news. 'It is the Domesday Book?' she whispered to Geoffrey when he was seated at the head of the table.
Geoffrey took hold of Elizabeth 's hand but did not answer her. She looked across the table and smiled at Roger. Elizabeth always sat on her husband's right and Roger always sat on Geoffrey's left.
One of Geoffrey's squires began to serve the meat and Geoffrey spoke a few words to the young boy. Elizabeth took advantage of his inattention and leaned toward Roger. 'It is the Domesday Book?' she asked, hoping Roger would give her a quick reply.
Geoffrey gave Elizabeth 's hand a quick squeeze. Roger looked like he was about to answer Elizabeth, but Geoffrey's small shake of his head stopped his action. Elizabeth saw Geoffrey's motion out of the corner of her eye.
She sighed with frustration. 'I do not think the king would take kindly to hearing his accounting called Domesday,' Geoffrey said.
The priest cleared his voice and began to repeat a favorite story they had all heard at least five times since his arrival, but out of courtesy, Geoffrey and Roger and Elizabeth gave him their attention. They laughed when the humorous story was ended, and the priest was pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he launched into yet another and another tale.
As soon as the meal was over, Geoffrey said to Roger, 'Go and see to the preparations for tomorrow.' He then turned to Elizabeth and suggested that they retire for the evening.
Elizabeth quickly agreed. 'There is something I must speak to you about,' she told Geoffrey with a soft smile.
'And I must also talk to you,' Geoffrey replied. His voice held no emotion and Elizabeth frowned with concern. When her husband tried to mask his feelings, as he was now doing, there was usually grave cause. She held his hand and followed him without a word.
When the bedroom door was shut against the world and they were alone, she still did not speak. She was learning her husband well and knew that he was considering his words with caution before he spoke. His frown told her that much.
Each undressed the other in silence. It had become a ritual for Elizabeth to take Geoffrey's sword and place it near the head of the bed, on her husband's side. This completed, she slipped between the covers and waited.
Geoffrey did not blow out the candles this night but came to Elizabeth with the lights glowing around them. He took her into his arms and kissed her gently.
'I would tell you my news first?' Elizabeth asked.
'I would rather have mine over and done with,' Geoffrey replied. There was an almost savage tone to his
