steps. Ranulph, Earl of Chester, was, she guessed, the shorter, distinguished-looking white-haired man with the ruddy complexion and piercing eyes, and next to him, was that her husband? She stared at the younger man. He was, as she had feared, nothing like the man of her dreams. Clean-shaven, slim, dressed in the robes of a rich cleric, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, he left his companion and ran down the steps towards her. She found she was holding her breath.
He made unerringly towards her. ‘Lady Eleyne?’ He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. ‘Welcome.’
Behind them the wagons and horsemen who had accompanied them were still moving into the courtyard and assembling around them. Eleyne did not notice: she was looking down into her husband’s smiling blue eyes.
IV
‘By all the saints, uncle! I can’t bed that child!’ John stared at the Earl of Chester in horror. ‘She’s a baby still.’
‘There are girls on the estates here, a year younger than she is, get themselves with bastards,’ Lord Chester retorted. ‘She’s old enough. And you’d be a fool not to make her your wife quickly. If you don’t some other man will beat you to it and you’ll find yourself raising a bastard as your heir!’ His expression softened. He had not intended to draw attention yet again, even by implication, to his nephew’s ill health. ‘Do as I say, my boy. Send all her servants packing, take her to your bed and get a child on her as soon as possible. She’ll soon develop some curves to titillate your fancy if you feed her up.’
‘Thank you for your advice, uncle.’ John was tight-lipped. ‘But for now, I would rather she had apartments of her own. Aunt Clemence has allotted her and her servants two chambers in the west tower. Once she has grown used to me and the idea of living away from home, I shall consider your advice.’ Turning away, he did not hear his uncle’s exasperated sigh or see his sceptically shaken head.
V
‘What do you think of it?’ John appeared behind Eleyne without a sound as she stood at the high window staring down unhappily across the castle walls into the crowded streets of the city of Chester.
She jumped guiltily. ‘It seems very big and noisy to me, my lord.’ She glanced sideways at him. He had a kind face and gentle hands; he did not seem so frightening. And so far he had shown no inclination to drag her away from Rhonwen to his bed.
‘Cities always are.’ He smiled down at her, studying her thin, freckle-dusted face, her red-gold hair and big green eyes. Tall as she was for her age, she only came up to his elbow. ‘You will have to get used to them. We shall visit many towns and cities each year.’ He sighed. ‘London, Chester, York, Edinburgh, Perth.’
‘You mean we won’t stay here?’ She had known it of course. No one stayed in one place. Even her father toured his palaces and castles in Gwynedd regularly. But Aber was always home, always the favourite. And Aber was comparatively near Chester. She looked up at him, trying to hide her fear and misery. She could hear Rhonwen, bustling about in the next room with Luned. Their voices reassured her as she looked at this tall stranger. ‘We will come back here?’ she asked huskily. She was fighting her terror and despair, and trying to hide her feelings from his probing gaze.
He smiled and his blue eyes softened. ‘We’ll come back here often, I promise,’ he said.
VI
It was two weeks later that the Earl of Huntingdon summoned Rhonwen to his presence. ‘Lady Rhonwen, I understand that you have been my wife’s nurse and companion since she was a baby?’ He was seated by the fire in the solar. He studied her closely. The woman was beautiful in her way: her skin clear, her eyes a deep grey, her carriage erect and proud.
‘I must thank you for taking such care of her all these years.’ He rose stiffly from his chair and walked across to the table. ‘She does you credit, madam, and I hope that this -’ he picked up a purse from the table – ‘will be a just reward for your efforts.’ He put it into Rhonwen’s hand.
She stared at it, feeling the heavy coins inside the soft leather. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It is our gift to you, Lady Rhonwen. My wife and I are anxious you should be rewarded.’ He gave her a slight smile.
‘Your wife…’ Rhonwen lifted her eyes to his, her expression veiled to hide the hatred and jealousy of this man which had devoured her since their arrival at Chester.
‘We should like you to return to Prince Llywelyn with the escort and the other servants when they go back,’ he said gently. ‘We leave soon for my lands in the south. It will not be practicable to take such a large contingent with us.’
‘You are sending me away?’ For a moment she couldn’t grasp what he meant.
‘I have all the servants and ladies my wife needs waiting for us at my castle of Fotheringhay, my lady.’ Under the gentleness of his tone there was a hint of impatience.
‘No, no!’ Rhonwen threw down the bag of coins, her composure shattered. ‘You can’t send me away, you can’t. Eleyne wouldn’t allow it. She loves me – ’
‘She does as her husband commands, Lady Rhonwen.’ John sat down once more and reached for the goblet of wine on the table at his elbow. His hand was shaking slightly.
‘No.’ Rhonwen shook her head. ‘You don’t understand. We’ve never been separated. Not since the day she was born – ’
‘I know it is hard, my lady, and I’m sorry. But it’s better this way.’ There was a sharp edge to his voice. ‘Now, please leave us. I have letters to write.’ He raised his hand to beckon forward his clerk who was hovering near the window.
‘No.’ Rhonwen could feel the waves of panic rising. How she hated this man who now had absolute control over Eleyne’s fate – and her own. ‘You can’t make me leave. You can’t – ’
The clerk came forward and bowed. ‘Shall I call the guard to remove her, my lord?’ he asked, bristling with disapproval.
‘I am sure there is no need.’ John stood up. He put his hand on Rhonwen’s arm and she felt with a vindictive shock of pleasure the physical weakness of the man. ‘Madam, please.’
With a sob, she turned and fled from the room.
VII
Eleyne was with the Countess of Chester, sitting nervously beside her new aunt, watching as the old woman checked some household accounts. They both looked up as Rhonwen burst in.
‘Eleyne, you can’t let him send me away. You can’t! I have to stay with you. I have to.’ Ignoring Lady Chester, etiquette long forgotten, Rhonwen sank to her knees next to Eleyne and, putting her arms around the child, began to sob.
Eleyne stood up, frightened. She had never seen Rhonwen cry before. ‘What is it? Who is going to send you away?’
‘Your husband.’ She did not bother to hide the loathing in her voice. ‘He is sending me, all of us, back to Gwynedd.’ Rhonwen steadied herself with difficulty, suddenly aware of the Countess of Chester’s eyes fixed on her
