‘So, did you remember your obedience to me?’ Robert was standing with his back to the fire, his arms folded across his chest. The servants had left them for the night.
Eleyne was combing out her hair, making the task last as long as she could. ‘I tried not to remember you at all,’ she said tartly. ‘The Queen of Scots and I talked of family matters.’
‘And you did not complain to her that I abuse you?’
‘What would be the use of complaining?’ Eleyne swung round to face him. ‘The queen could do nothing. It is her brother, the King of England, who will act if I ask him.’
‘But you won’t ask him.’ Robert’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Will you?’
She held his gaze. ‘He is responsible for marrying me to you,’ she said softly, almost unaware of the thread of menace in her voice. ‘And he is sorry for it.’
He raised an eyebrow, stung. ‘What do you mean, sorry?’
‘He regrets it already. He has wasted a valuable asset.’ She smiled humourlessly. ‘But a woman is a reusable commodity. Widowed once, she can be widowed again.’
He went white. ‘What are you saying?’
She stared into her mirror, ‘I am saying nothing, my husband,’ she said slowly, ‘except that I could wish for greater happiness in my marriage.’
A petulant frown appeared on his face. ‘How can we be happy? You are always fighting me!’
‘Because you force me to do things I do not wish to do.’
He glowered at her. ‘That is a husband’s right.’
‘I don’t want a husband who enforces his rights. I want a husband who earns them. I want a husband who is considerate. I want a husband who is gentle. I want a husband who is a perfect knight!’
She looked into the mirror to gauge his reaction. Such a speech could earn her a beating or worse, but she saw that he was thoughtful. Her oblique threat had struck home, as had the intriguing idea that he might be the perfect knight! Then his expression closed and she knew the moment had passed. There would be no change in Robert.
VIII
The Queen of Scots’s maid had been gone a long time. When she returned to Rhonwen, she was breathless and her flushed cheeks betrayed that she had wasted several minutes in the narrow stone passage, kissing a handsome squire.
‘Her grace will see you now, my lady,’ she gasped, straightening her cap. She was enjoying her stay in the royal apartments of the great Tower of London.
Rhonwen gravely followed the girl back up the long staircase and from there she was escorted by Hugh de Gurley, the queen’s valet, into the east-facing bedchamber where Joanna lay propped on a heap of soft pillows.
Joanna acknowledged her curtsey with a wave of her hand. ‘Have you brought a message from Lady Eleyne?’
‘I have not seen Lady Eleyne for many months, your grace.’ Rhonwen was holding a box containing gifts: honey and sweetmeats and pastries to tempt the ailing queen’s appetite. ‘Her husband threatened my life. He used his threats as a lever to force her to obey him. It was a situation which could not continue. I have been living in London in a dower house belonging to the old Countess of Chester.’ Rhonwen was studying her carefully, noting with professional interest the pale skin, the dark rings beneath the queen’s eyes, her languid movements. ‘It is only until Eleyne can reach the king and obtain a free pardon for me.’
‘Oh yes, the death of the Prince of Gwynedd’s bard.’ Joanna lay back. ‘We heard about that. I expect Eleyne will petition my brother while she is here.’
‘She is here then?’ Rhonwen smiled. ‘I had heard rumours but I wasn’t sure. That was why I begged an audience, knowing she would come to see you if she were in London.’
The queen smiled. ‘She and Sir Robert are in Southwark, across the river, staying with the Earl of Winchester. He is our constable of Scotland and will be escorting me home soon.’
Rhonwen shook her head. ‘I sent messages to Fotheringhay to tell her where I was, but I doubt they ever reached her.’
Joanna nodded. ‘She told me something of the marriage. It is not a happy one.’ She sat forward suddenly, her eyes alight at the thought of intrigue. ‘My lady, if you wish to meet Eleyne safely, then you must come here. The king has told Sir Robert to allow her to visit me alone – Sir Robert seems afraid to allow her anywhere without him in constant attendance. Poor Eleyne, she can’t even ride that fearsome great horse of hers. But here at the Tower she can be away from him for a few hours at least.’
Rhonwen smiled. ‘That is a kind offer, your grace, and one I accept most gratefully. I’ve missed Eleyne so much.’
The thought of outwitting Robert de Quincy pleased Joanna enormously and distracted her a little from her lassitude and unhappiness. She reached for the box which Rhonwen had put on the bed, pulling at the pale green ribbons which fastened it.
Rhonwen watched, amused. The woman was a fool, but for the time being she was useful. So for just a while longer her existence could be tolerated.
IX
Their reunion was a happy one. They clung together for a long time before Joanna’s amused gaze, then at the same moment they held each other at arm’s length. It was scarcely three months since they had been parted, but it had seemed like forever.
Rhonwen was smartly dressed in a new gown with fine linen gloves which she had tossed on to the table. Countess Clemence had employed her officially as housekeeper to one of her houses in the city and, after the initial shock of settling into the cut and thrust of city life, Rhonwen had begun to enjoy herself running the rambling old building in Chester Court off Gracechurch Street. Away from the protocol of life in the prince’s household in Wales, or that of the countess at Chester, she was undisputed head of the house, with freedom to run it as she wished. She did it well and with energy; the only thing which had spoiled her enjoyment was the thought of what might be happening to Eleyne.
‘And Luned? How is she?’ Eleyne was sitting opposite her, near the fire, beside the queen.
Rhonwen frowned. ‘Married.’
‘Married? To whom? When? Where is she?’
‘To a London silk merchant; last month; she is living in Milk Street. I told her she should seek your permission, but she would have none of it. She told me she would like mine, but if I didn’t give it she would go ahead anyway. She was determined to be married before Shrovetide. She wouldn’t wait. They were married on Valentine’s Eve. He is a wealthy young man, good-looking in his way, I suppose, and besotted with her. What could I say?’
Eleyne smiled. ‘Is she happy?’
Rhonwen nodded. ‘Oh yes.’
‘Then I’m pleased for her. Tell her she has my blessing. I’d like to see her.’
‘Tell her to come to us here,’ Joanna put in. ‘If she is married to a silk merchant, perhaps we can buy some of
