Lord of My Heart

by Jo Beverley

  As she watched the final assembly of the party, Aimery drew up beside her and offered her a wineskin. “If we were in a secure place I’d consider stopping,” he said, “but not in Hereward’s manor on the edge of the Fens.”

  Madeleine tipped the skin and drank. She wished they had time to devote to each other, but there was none, and no privacy at all. “You do think there’s danger then?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t want to tempt my revered uncle with too tasty a morsel. The people here are his to the death. Anyway, I broached the question to the queen and she refuses to consider any delay.” He looked at Madeleine. “Do you think the birth is imminent?”

  “Adele has more experience than I, and she’s birthed the queen’s other babies. She’s concerned.”

  His hand tapped restlessly on the pommel. “If the queen goes into labor on the road, how will it go?”

  “It will be in God’s hands, but she bears babes well. It should go easily. But, please God, not in the rain.”

  “Amen to that. I hope to rest tonight at Sleaford, which won’t be much better than here, but after that is the end of the Fens, and Lincoln. We can halt there in safety.”

  Madeleine saw that the weight of his responsibilities pressed on him, and touched his hand. “It will go well.”

  He smiled his thanks. “And you? How are you?”

  She wanted so much to seek the comfort of his arms, but she merely pulled her damp cloak closer. “Too tired and wet to worry about anything personal.”

  He laughed, but then sobered. “I don’t want to add to your concerns, but there is something you should know.”

  “About Hengar?” she asked in alarm.

  “No, about Golden Hart.”

  She stared at him. Was he about to confess his plan?

  “I tangled with some men of Robert d’Oilly’s in the spring, but one survived. The king took an interest in him and appointed him to the castle guard at Huntingdon. I’ve just seen him in Odo’s troop.”

  A hundred thoughts clamored in Madeleine’s mind, but she said, “He will recognize you?”

  “He’s seen me before without making the connection, but if Odo has hired him, there has to be a reason. If Odo points me out, the man might see the resemblance.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “How can you do nothing when they plan to destroy you?” He made no response, and she surrendered to the other thought bursting in her head. “How many did you kill?”

  He was surprised. “Three. Gyrth took one.”

  “You said you had never killed to conceal your actions.”

  “Nor have I. I killed to save a man from death and his fellows from the ruin that comes of killing Normans.” He sighed and touched her cheek. “Don’t look so distraught. I doubt anything will happen before we join the king in York, and hopefully not immediately then. I have plans for York,” he said softly. “I want to make long, gentle love to you in a bed, my wife. Will I be welcome?”

  With death hanging over him, how could she deny him? “Aye,” she whispered.

  A light flashed in his eyes. “Then we will assuredly make York. The rest is in the lap of the gods.”

  Sleaford was, as he had predicted, just like Bourne, but as they approached the rain turned to drizzle, and by the time they left the next morning the summer sun was shining once again, and the road was firm.

  In dry clothes and warm sun, everyone’s spirits revived. Aimery raised a song and everyone joined in merrily. They were headed for Lincoln, where they could expect a solid castle and everything that an ancient and civilized town could provide.

  Adele was riding with Matilda, and Madeleine rode nearby, for though the queen asserted she had no signs of delivery, she rubbed at the bottom of her belly now and then, and found it hard to find a comfortable position in which to lie. Adele had told Madeleine she was sure the birth would come within days.

  When she wasn’t watching Matilda, Madeleine nervously watched the countryside to the east of the road, wondering if Hereward was there, and what he intended. She occasionally saw small boats fishing for eels, and even foot travelers who used poles to leap the frequent dykes, but no signs of armed men. Some of the party were beginning to think Hereward a figment of the imagination, but Madeleine knew for certain he was not. As the day went by, however, the terrain changed. Madeleine felt a burden lift when the dangerous Fens were left behind.

  Lincoln was truly a welcome sight, sitting high and proud on the hill over the River Witham, the new castle already dominating the ancient town. William of Percy, who had been given the castle to man and guard, rode out to welcome the queen. He was a hard-looking man with a fearsome scar down his face, but he inspired confidence. Madeleine thought even Aimery was grateful to let someone else take responsibility for a while.

  The castle had been hurriedly ordered to be built as part of William’s current campaign to subdue the north, and it was stark, but within its protection were numerous handsome houses where the queen’s train settled to rest.

  Aimery came straight to the queen to urge that she stay in Lincoln for a few days.

  “Nonsense,” snapped Matilda. “The worst of the journey is over. Water travel will present no problems.”

  “If the weather holds,” warned Aimery.

  “It will,” said Matilda.

  As Aimery left, Matilda again rubbed her belly.

  “Your Majesty,” said Madeleine desperately, “it would not be wise to give birth on the river.”

  “I have no intention of doing so,” said Matilda, as if it were a matter completely under her control. “I know these aches. They come for weeks before the birth.”

  Adele came forward. “But they are aches, Lady?”

  “Of course they are aches,” snapped Matilda. “I ache all over. Anyone would ache after being in that cursed box for a week. The baby is not on its way.”

  Madeleine and Adele shared a look and a sigh.

  “I will sleep here with you tonight, Your Majesty,” said Madeleine.

  “No, you will not. I have enough people to hover over me, and Aimery has only one wife. Stop fussing over me, girl, and go and fuss over your husband. He will doubtless appreciate it a great deal more.”

  There was no debating with Matilda in this mood, and so Madeleine went to find her quarters. Again, they had a small but private room. When he’d promised to make love to her in York, had Aimery forgotten the opportunities that would be provided by the halt in Lincoln?

  William of Percy provided a magnificent feast that night for the queen and her party. Madeleine thought this must be hard for Matilda, but there was no sign of it. She was gracious and alert, paying special attention to the burghers of the town, currying their favor for her husband’s cause.

  Madeleine and Aimery were seated by local dignitaries, too, and did their best to make a good impression. Their ability to converse in English was appreciated. Looking around, Madeleine could see communication was stilted in many places. Did it not occur to many Normans to learn the tongue of this land? Apparently not. They were waiting for the English to learn French.

  She remembered Hereward’s prediction that English would be the language here in the future. It seemed unlikely.

  She looked nervously at the far side, where Odo’s men were seated. She had no way of knowing which was the man who could recognize Golden Hart, and she saw no one gazing their way with suspicion. She had to copy Aimery and put the matter out of her mind or she’d go mad, but she didn’t have his training in fatalism.

  Her worries were broken by a disturbance at the doors. A party swept in, led by a striking blond woman of middle years. She was not particularly beautiful, but there was humor and character in her face, and she possessed snapping bright eyes. Madeleine’s attention, however, was caught by a figure trailing behind the woman and her guards.

  What was Aldreda doing here? Joining Aimery?

  Aimery stood suddenly. Madeleine stared at him in
astonishment as he moved quickly toward the group, delight on his face. Her pain was sharp. He would betray her thus before the whole company?

  He swept the blond woman into his arms. “Mother!”

  Madeleine stood slowly, prey to a mixture of relief and guilt. She looked again at Aldreda, and the woman’s sharp gaze met hers, and hardened. Why was Aldreda looking at her as if Madeleine were a chicken for the pot?

  But there was no time for speculation now. Aimery was calling her forward, the queen was summoning them all to her, the Lady Lucia’s party was being settled and fed.

  Madeleine found herself wrapped in a warm, cushiony embrace. “My dearest daughter! You are so pretty. How did the worthless wretch win himself such a lovely bride?” As they went to the queen, Lucia explained, “I saw how it would be. I could sit in Normandy and turn to stone before my husband or son gave a thought to me, so I came.”

  Lucia curtsied respectfully to the queen, but said as she rose, “Matilda, you must be crazed.”

  The queen laughed. “People have said that to me all my life. Sweet Savior, but it’s good to have you here, Lucia. Sit here and tell me all the news. You can huddle with your son later.” She waved Aimery and Madeleine away, but they heard her say, “He’s doing very well, by the way. You can be proud of him.”

  “I always am,” said Lucia. “Are you in labor yet, or are you just waiting to burst like a pea pod?”

  Madeleine and Aimery shared a grin as they resumed their seats. “She’s lovely,” said Madeleine.

  “Yes, but don’t be deceived. Even Father shakes in his shoes if she takes up an issue. We may at last have hope of the queen seeing sense.”

  “I pray it is so.” Madeleine toyed with a pastry. “Did you see Aldreda?”

  He looked up. “Where?”

  His reaction was a relief to her. Madeleine pointed the woman out. “She came with your mother.”

  “Mother must have stopped at Baddersley then,” he remarked without great interest. “But why would she bring Aldreda?”

  “And why,” asked Madeleine pointedly, “would Aldreda want to come?”

  Chapter 21

  The queen retired early, attended by all her ladies and Lady Lucia de Gaillard. Once the queen was settled for the night, Madeleine took Aimery’s mother to find the chamberlain and obtain quarters for her.

  The man was harassed. “I have nothing suitable, Lady Madeleine. Every inch is taken in the ladies’ rooms.”

  “You mustn’t concern yourself,” said Lucia. “I am not so soft that I can’t sleep in the hall or the stables.”

  “Oh, dear,” said the man. “It isn’t right.” He suddenly brightened. “Perhaps the lady could share your room, Lady Madeleine.”

  Madeleine thought of the private room and knew it was right. Not only was it right that Lucia have some comfort, but it was right that she and Aimery not be tempted yet. It wasn’t a question of a vow anymore, but matters must be truly settled between them if they were to find happiness. “An excellent idea,” she said. “Come along, my lady.”

  When they arrived at the chamber, Lucia looked around and said, “This is yours and Aimery’s.”

  “Yes,” said Madeleine, “but your sleeping here will not inconvenience us, I assure you.”

  “That,” said Lucia, “sounds most unnatural.”

  Madeleine’s face burned. “We’re both very tired these days.”

  “I can’t say a day’s travel would have stopped Guy and me. Or would now, were he here.”

  Madeleine didn’t know what to say to such plain, lusty talk, and took silver goblets out of a chest.

  “I know your marriage was strangely arranged,” said Lucia. “Have you learned to deal together?”

  Madeleine busied herself in pouring wine. “Now and then,” she said, and passed a goblet to the older woman.

  Lucia laughed. “And I should mind my own business. Forgive me, my dear. It’s hard to have but one chick. He looks well, if tired.”

  Madeleine sighed but smiled. “Believe me, getting Matilda to York is enough to turn us all gray.”

  Aimery came in to catch the end of that. “True enough. Have you changed her mind, Mother?”

  “No, and I doubt I can. She’s as aware as any of you of the problems, but she’s shaped her fate by force of will all her life and believes she always can.” Lucia shrugged. “Knowing Matilda, I would say the chances of the babe being born in York as she intends are extremely high.”

  Aimery drained the wine Madeleine gave him. “So be it. We should make Gainsborough tomorrow, then Airmyn, then York. Only three more days and all on water. Now,” he said, throwing himself down on a bench next to his mother, “tell me your adventures, and all the news from home.”

  Madeleine pretended she had forgotten a duty to the queen and gave them some time together. When she returned, Lucia smiled her thanks. A little later Aimery left to do his nightly inspection of his force, leaving the two women alone.

  “He’s grown so,” said Lucia, half proud, half sad.

  “I have not known him any other way.”

  Lucia lovingly folded the cloak Aimery had dropped on a chest. “It seems an astonishingly short time since he was a babe at my breast, a mere moment since he was all legs and arms and a voice slipping out of control . . .” She took a deep breath. “You must pardon a foolish mother . . .”

  Madeleine hugged her. “I pardon you anything, for you have given me Aimery.”

  Lucia pulled back to look at her. “Is it so?” She smiled. “Then I am content. You will keep him safe. I worry about him being in England, and I know Guy has been deeply concerned. Even I find the situation here painful, and I am not called upon to fight.”

  Madeleine wondered just how she was supposed to keep Aimery safe, then remembered Hengar and shuddered. “Hereward is your brother, isn’t he?”

  Lucia clucked. “Yes, and if I have the chance I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Men! There’s no turning back time. He should bow to the inevitable.”

  As they undressed, Madeleine ventured the subject of Aldreda. “I saw a woman from Baddersley in your party. Why is she here?”

  “The weaver? When I stopped there looking for you, she asked to come. She has recently lost her husband and needs to travel to a brother in York. Is there a problem?”

  Madeleine shook her head. “Except that her husband was found murdered at Huntingdon when we stopped there. The culprit has not been found. Likely enough she does have relatives in York.” But Madeleine wondered. She had never heard of such relatives. And where exactly was Aimery now?

  Madeleine had to fight an urge to go in search of him, to check if he was with Aldreda.

  Madeleine and Lucia shared the bed. As they settled there Lucia said, “Poor woman. Especially as she is expecting a child.”

  Madeleine stiffened. “She is? She shows no sign.”

  “No, but she said she is pregnant.”

  Aimery came in with a straw mattress and settled himself in a corner. Madeleine looked up at the painted beams. Aldreda had quickened with only one child, said to be Aimery’s. Now she was with child again.

  Madeleine had no opportunity to raise the subject with Aimery the next day, but as they all gathered at the side of the Foss Dyke canal, Aldreda approached her.

  “Lady Madeleine,” she said demurely, “I hope you do not mind my coming here with your lord’s mother.”

  Madeleine faced the woman warily. “Of course not,” she lied. “I understand you seek relatives in York.”

  The woman’s eyes shifted, revealing the lie. “It’s hard for a woman to lose her man, Lady.”

  “I’m sure it is. I will be happy to arrange another marriage for you. Did the sheriff tell you I will pay the wergild? Twenty shillings, I believe.”

  “Aye,” said Aldreda, adding boldly, “and I’m wondering why you would do that.”

  “I am your lord in Baddersley,” said Madeleine calmly. “Your welfare is my concern, and I fear your husband�
��s murderer will never be found.”

  “Do you, indeed?” said Aldreda with a distinct sneer. “Time will tell. But thank you for the wergild, Lady. It will come in useful. After all, I have a daughter to settle.”

  Madeleine couldn’t hold it back. “And another babe on the way, I understand. When is it due?”

  “Next Eastertide, or thereabouts, Lady.” Aldreda’s smile was cat-like. “Conceived so little time ago.”

  “A blessing,” said Madeline tightly, “to bear a child after so many barren years. Did you say special prayers?”

  The woman smirked. “I certainly did something special, Lady.”

  Aldreda bowed herself away. When next Madeleine saw her, she was talking to Odo, of all people. That made Madeleine very uneasy. First d’Oilly’s man, now Aldreda. Though Odo’s ambitions had taken other directions, Madeleine knew he would do her and Aimery a mischief if he could, and her instinct told her Aldreda was mischief incarnate.

  Madeleine found she had little time to worry about Odo’s plans or Aldreda’s link with Aimery, for she and Adele, and all the ladies, were kept busy by Matilda. The queen continued to deny labor, and was probably telling the truth, but she was restless and irritable.

  They traveled the Foss Dyke in two relays of small barges, then embarked on larger vessels at the port of Torksey for the trip up the Trent. During the wait at Torksey the women kept the queen active, but once they were on the water again, she was condemned to sitting still. Though the litter had been a trial to her, on the road she had been able to demand frequent stops to walk around. The barges were wide boats, but with the large number of passengers and the oarsmen, there was little room to move. Matilda was uncomfortable and let everyone know it.

  If it hadn’t been for the queen’s complaints, Madeleine would have enjoyed the peaceful glide through green countryside, but as it was she was immensely relieved to see Gainsborough. She offered prayers that the queen’s labor would come on her there and put them all out of their misery.

  Despite all the signs, and the silent prayers of her attendants, the queen did not go into labor in Gainsborough. Madeleine and Adele even discussed using herbs which would bring on labor, but the risks probably outweighed the advantages.