bed again.
The sight of her husband and the touch of his hand had done more for Isabella than all the charms and potions with which the two women had been plying her for the last two days. She reached for Eleyne’s hand. ‘He came.’
Eleyne nodded. ‘He came.’
The child was born four hours later. It was a girl.
‘No.’ Eleyne shook her head as the small scrap of humanity was held out to her, wrapped in a bloodstained sheet. ‘No. It is not possible. He was to be a boy.’
‘Well, if he’s a boy, he’s got some precious baubles missing, my lady.’ One of the midwives took the baby, chuckling, and began to wash and wrap her. ‘This bairn will be no prince.’ Everyone in the castle knew of Eleyne’s prediction.
‘No.’ Eleyne shook her head disbelievingly. She walked towards the bed and took Isabella’s hand, but her daughter had drifted already into an exhausted sleep.
‘You must tell Lord Carrick, my lady.’ The woman smiled spitefully. ‘He too expected a son.’
VI
Robert was asleep, his head on the table beside an overturned goblet. For a moment she stood looking down at him, not wanting to wake him, aware of the whispers in the body of the hall, full of compassion for the young man’s disappointment.
As if sensing her standing over him, he raised his head and with the instincts of a soldier was instantly awake. She took a deep breath.
‘You have a daughter.’
If there was dismay in his face, it was veiled as soon as it appeared. ‘Isabella? Is she all right?’
Eleyne nodded with a rush of warmth for her son-in-law. He cared for Isabella. Of course he cared. Isabella was wrong. ‘She’ll be all right; she’s exhausted now. Go up and see her later.’ They both understood there was no need to rush upstairs to view the baby – a daughter could wait.
‘I’m sorry.’ She lowered her head, defeated. ‘I got it wrong. I was so sure this child was to be the progenitor of kings.’
Robert grinned. ‘I’m the one who intends to be the progenitor of kings.’ He lurched wearily to his feet. ‘Don’t blame yourself. I’m content to wait for destiny. There will be other children.’
‘I hope so,’ she said sadly.
He frowned. ‘There’s something wrong – ’
‘No! No.’ The wave of terrible unhappiness had gone as soon as it had come. ‘No, I’m very tired, that’s all. Forgive me, Robert, if I go and rest. I’m too old to stay up all night.’ She smiled at him. ‘Isabella is all right. And so is the baby. What shall you call her?’
‘Marjorie. After my mother.’
‘God bless you, my dear.’ She put her hand up to his cheek for a moment, then turned to climb wearily to her bedchamber.
VII
The next evening Robert and Eleyne dined alone at the high table. Father Gillespie had been called away, the officers of the household were visiting the manors of the Garioch, Eleyne’s ladies were down the far end of the table and Mary and Kirsty were both with Isabella. For the first time it was possible to talk in private.
‘Do you have news of what is happening in the south?’ She had been wanting all day to talk of the war and Donald.
Robert nodded as he raised his wine to his lips. ‘Gratney is with King Edward and has put in a plea for Donald’s release. All the high-ranking captives are being sent south. To Chester or to the Tower.’ He saw her flinch at the words. ‘Don’t be afraid, he’ll be all right. They’re being treated well. My concern is what Edward means to do with Scotland now that our noble King John has abdicated like a craven fool.’ His voice was full of contempt for the man who after his defeat had been captured and forced to surrender his crown.
‘You, like me, suspect the worst of our interfering neighbour.’ Eleyne leaned forward, her elbows on the table. ‘When are you going to act, Robert? The country is waiting for your lead.’
The year before, on Maundy Thursday, 31 March, her old friend and nephew Robert Bruce of Annandale had died, defiant and cantankerous to the last. His loss had been a terrible blow to Eleyne, as it had to all the supporters of the Bruces.
Robert demurred. ‘What can I do? My father has no stomach for battle, and he is still the heir to our claims to the throne, not I. However much grandfather wanted it, he couldn’t replace papa in the succession, and I’m afraid I’ll have to play a waiting game. I will not support John Balliol or the Comyns while I wait, which means in a world that is black and white that I must be seen to support Edward. For now.’ He grinned at her. ‘You and I know better.’
‘Be careful.’ She smiled, responding as always to the young man’s charm. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game.’
‘I know.’ He reached for the wine and refilled her goblet. ‘My grandfather would have loved this, and I am like him. I play for high stakes, but I play to win. It may take time, but I intend to take the prize.’
‘I believe you.’ She hesitated, then she turned to face him again. ‘Tell me, Robert, while we confide in each other over our cups. Are you unfaithful to my daughter?’ Having sprung the question, she studied his profile, aware of the sudden tenseness.
There was a silence which lasted just too long. ‘I love my wife. And I am faithful to her as is my duty as a husband and a knight.’
‘And if you were not a husband and a knight? What then?’
‘Then nothing. The other lady is also married.’
‘I see.’ Eleyne poked idly at the food on the manchet of bread before her with her small bone-handled knife. She swallowed her anger and disappointment in him. ‘Thank you for being open with me. Have you lost your heart to this other lady?’
‘No.’ He put down his goblet, shaking his head. ‘No, I know it’s madness. She is trouble. Trouble for everyone near her. It’s when I’m near her…’ The sentence remained unfinished.
‘And she reciprocates your feelings, does she? This troublesome lady?’ Eleyne persisted sternly.
He nodded.
‘But you would never betray Isabella.’ It was a command rather than a question.
He shook his head. ‘I love Isabella. I would never do anything to hurt her, never.’ Suddenly he frowned. ‘It wasn’t Isabella who told you this?’
‘However much you think you’ve kept your feelings hidden, your servants have noticed. Did you expect them to keep your secret?’ Her voice was harsh.
Robert closed his eyes wearily. ‘I suppose I did expect them to keep it a secret as there was nothing to tell.’ He sounded disillusioned. ‘I’m sorry. I would not have had that happen for the world. The last thing I wanted was to upset Isabella. You must believe me. Did she tell you who the lady is?’
‘No, I don’t know who she is, and I don’t want to. And I don’t think Isabella knows,’ Eleyne said more gently. ‘If she suspects she did not tell me.’
He looked relieved. ‘I shall make it up to her… and I shall see that the lady and I are not alone together again.’
Eleyne raised an austere eyebrow. ‘Please do,’ she said.
