III
In the manor house Joanna ran wild, the sound of her high-pitched laughter everywhere. Donnet followed her, as anxious as a mother, constantly on watch, sitting in the corner of the room, his large brown eyes on the child, submitting to the hugs and squeezes, the chubby legs astride his grey silky flanks and looking up from time to time, pleading with Eleyne to rescue him from the onslaught. It was a welcome distraction for all of them when the two young rulers of Aberffraw, her nephews Owain Goch and Llywelyn, asked her to go with them to Woodstock.
At first she said she couldn’t go. She could not run the risk of meeting Robert.
‘Uncle Henry has particularly requested that you come with us,’ Owain wheedled in the dusty bachelor fortress that was Aber now. ‘Now that we have a treaty with John de Gray, we are going to sort things out with him properly and pay homage for Gwynedd.’
‘So Henry has won.’ Eleyne looked from one young man to the other.
Owain shrugged, but she saw a flash of rebellion in Llywelyn’s eyes. ‘It will give us time to consolidate, Aunt Eleyne,’ he said grimly. ‘Time is what we need now. Let Henry think everything is going his way. Later we will re- establish Gwynedd’s greatness, have no fear.’
Eleyne eyed her nephew with amusement. She had a feeling that if the future were left to Llywelyn, Gwynedd would indeed one day be great again.
IV
She was finally persuaded to go with them when a letter came from Henry himself commanding her to wait on him with her nephews. ‘There are matters to discuss concerning the Honour of Huntingdon and the earldom of Chester and the confirmation of your dower.’ Five years before, Henry had bought out the heiresses of the Chester lands. The right to the title was now his alone.
Almost the first person she saw in the great hall of the king’s palace at Woodstock was Robert de Quincy. She froze, but he had seen her as the princes’ party made their way indoors after the long days in the saddle.
Eleyne stopped. Frantically she looked round for an escape but the king was coming towards her.
‘Lady Chester!’ His voice was imperious. She dropped a deep curtsey. ‘You and your husband will present yourselves in an audience with me tomorrow. Alone.’
Sweet Bride, was she never to be free of him? She wanted to run away. She wanted to scream.
‘Face him, Aunt Eleyne.’ Llywelyn was standing near her. ‘Tell him you want to live separately from Robert. Tell him how much you hate him. He’ll understand.’ The young man’s eyes were intense. ‘He doesn’t want you to be unhappy.’ He reached out and took her hands. ‘He wants to keep Alexander’s friendship. He’ll help you.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ A handsome young man in his early twenties, he was confident of his own infallibility.
It was raining. She could hear it pouring down the gutter outside her window and splashing on the paving of the small courtyard beyond her room. On the far side of the walls it thundered on to the new red-green leaves of the unfurling oaks. Nesta and Joanna and her nurse, Meggie, were all asleep in the darkness of the room. Eleyne raised herself on to her elbow and peered around, holding her breath. Then she heard it again; the latch was moving. Slowly the door creaked open. She knew it was Robert even before she saw him outlined against the light of the torch in the passage outside.
She grabbed her bedcovers and held them tightly to her breasts. Next to her Nesta groaned.
‘What do you want?’ Her voice sounded shockingly loud in the silence. Robert jumped and the two women sat up in fright. Joanna began to cry.
Robert lurched against the wall, looking blankly into the darkness. ‘I want my wife.’ His speech was slurred. Waving his arms, he stumbled into the room and grabbed at Nesta’s arm. ‘Get out. Take the brat with you.’
‘Stay where you are!’ Eleyne said urgently to Nesta. ‘Go away, Robert. Now. You’re drunk! Leave us alone or I’ll call the guard.’
‘Call away.’ Robert hiccuped loudly. His eyes were growing used to the darkness. ‘They can throw out these women.’ He glared at the screaming child and lunged forward, catching Eleyne’s shoulder in his hand and pulling away the sheets. He narrowed his eyes as the jewelled pendant on its chain between her breasts caught the light and reflected a thousand prisms across her white skin. ‘Pretty bauble! Worth a fortune no doubt.’ He grabbed it and wrenched it from her, snapping the chain.
Eleyne gave a scream. She tried to snatch it back but he had staggered out of reach. ‘It’ll buy me some wine,’ he crowed. ‘Oh dear! So upset! Who gave it to you? Or can I guess?’
‘Give it to me.’ Eleyne snatched her bed gown from the end of the bed and, flinging it on, she pushed her feet out on to the cold floor. Joanna’s screams had risen hysterically in spite of Meggie’s frantic rocking. Holding the phoenix high, dangling on the end of its chain so that it flashed in the flickering torchlight, Robert backed away from her. She caught him as he reached the door and with a vicious lunge he pushed her to the floor, laughing as he tucked the pendant into his scrip.
By the time she had scrambled to her feet, he had gone.
‘Did he hurt you, my lady?’ Nesta ran to help her.
Mutely, Eleyne shook her head. His blow had glanced off her shoulder. She flung herself at the door and looked out, but there was no sign of Robert. He had disappeared into the warren of buildings and passages which made up the huge sprawling palace.
Eleyne could not sleep even when Joanna had at last been soothed and tucked back into bed, and the breathing of the two women had grown even once more. She was seething with fury, and it was still dark when she made her way to the stables. She had left Donnet with Tam. Quietly she called the dog and, putting the temptation to ride behind her, she went to walk in the orchards beyond the park wall. By the time she was to see her uncle, she was calm.
It did not surprise her to see that Robert was at the king’s side first. He eyed her smugly, sober, his hair and beard freshly barbered. His gown looked new.
Eleyne curtseyed to the king, her hand on Donnet’s head.
Henry smiled. ‘So, niece. I have some documents here for you to sign – ’
‘Do you value your alliance with Scotland, your grace?’ Eleyne held her uncle’s eye challengingly. Her voice was clear and steady as she interrupted him.
He frowned, astonished. ‘We are not here to discuss Scotland – ’
‘I think we are. The King of Scots gave me a valuable jewel; it was to be my security and part of my dower. Last night, my husband…’ she flicked Robert the barest glance – ‘stole it.’
Henry frowned. ‘I hardly think – ’
‘If I tell Alexander that you condoned that theft,’ Eleyne went on, ‘he will be angry and disappointed. He has always told me that you are a man of honour and I agreed with him. Yet this has happened under your roof.’
Henry sighed. ‘Give it back to her, de Quincy.’
Robert shook his head. ‘A whore’s bauble? I sold it.’
Eleyne gasped. ‘You can’t have. You haven’t had time…’
‘Find it!’ Henry’s voice cut in angrily. ‘I give you twelve hours to restore this jewel to your wife, Sir Robert, or you will be charged with the theft. Now leave me. Both of you. I have grown bored with your quarrels.’ He had forgotten why he wanted to speak to them in the first place.
Eleyne left the king’s room. She went straight to the stables and gave orders for Tam Lin to be saddled. Her
