Stuart, Elizabeth (31 page)

Edward
nodded in greeting, then moved through the women toward the queen's bedchamber.
"What mischief are you two brewing?" he inquired, leaning his massive
six-feet-two frame against the ebony marble of the fireplace. "Richard, I
think it best to inquire into your business when I find you closeted in this
secrecy with my wife."

Eleanor
lifted the jeweled circlet, sending Edward the radiant smile she saved solely
for her lord. "I was showing him the present you gave me. He says I could
wear blacksmith's iron and still be fashionable."

"And
so you could, my love." Edward glanced at Richard, his drooping left
eyelid lowering even further in the suggestion of a wink. "I wonder I
didn't think of that. The metal would be a great deal less dear."

"But
then all the women would be bent on having it and there'd be none left for our
horses," Richard interposed in a serious tone. "So perhaps the gold
is just as well."

"You
are both impossible and I see, between you, I'm to have no peace," Eleanor
remarked, motioning to a servant. "May I offer you wine, my lord?"

Edward
shook his head. "No, I came to borrow Richard if you've done with him. I
finished the dispatches from this afternoon and we've matters to discuss."

Richard
tossed off the rest of his wine and glanced at Edward expectantly.
"Matters pertaining to the north?"

Edward
nodded. "If you'll excuse us for a short time, my love," he added,
turning to Eleanor. He motioned Richard toward the door, staying behind a
moment to talk privately with his wife.

Richard
moved through the queen's ladies, scarcely noticing the interested looks sent
his way. A pang of envy pierced him. Edward and Eleanor had a harmonious union
such as any man might desire. He knew Edward was faithful to his queen, while
any fool could see Eleanor's devotion to her husband.

It
was a combination one rarely saw in marriage. But of all the women Richard
knew, Eleanor of Castile was one who might achieve such a triumph. She was
generous, witty, brave, and near single-minded in her devotion to Edward. She
followed her warrior husband on his campaigns about the country, untiring and
unprotesting, preferring the rigors of camp life to separation from Edward.

But
Eleanor wasn't merely a woman, she was a queen, Richard reminded himself. And
perhaps it was too much to expect such qualities in other women. He had
certainly never found them in another... at least until Elen.

The
thought was ridiculous, but the comparison had nagged at him since he had
arrived at Chepstow. How could the girl possibly remind him of the queen? There
was certainly no physical resemblance between the two women. Yet something in
Elen's proud bearing, in her dogged determination and her unflinching devotion
to those she loved brought the English queen to mind.

Richard
rubbed his chin in perplexity, glancing up as Edward emerged into the corridor.
"The dispatches brought good news, I take it?"

"Yes,
news. I've been anxious for. Dafydd ap Gruffydd is surrounded and holed up in
some wretched stockade with no chance of escape. After months of harrowing the
traitor through every bog and thicket, it seems we have him at last. And by
God's sword, his own countrymen betrayed him to our men!"

Richard
turned to follow his king down the hall. "Most Welshmen didn't take kindly
to Dafydd's plotting with you these last years to overthrow Llywelyn. There was
certainly no love lost between Gruffydd's two sons."

Edward
paused before the small, comfortable room he used as an audience chamber. He
glanced at Richard. "No, I didn't take kindly to his betrayal of me
either." The king's blue eyes hardened suddenly with an icy expression Richard
knew boded ill for his enemies. "A little matter he'll soon pay dearly
for."

They
entered the chamber and, at Edward's invitation, Richard seated himself at the
king's right hand. "Dafydd's capture has been a foregone conclusion since
we sealed off the coast at the first of the year, but there are others I'm
concerned about," Edward continued broodingly. He glanced up. "Have
you still discovered nothing of the family of Aldwyn of Teifi?"

Richard
shook his head. "I've questioned every prisoner I've taken and spread your
silver about with the promise of more. But I've heard nothing save that the two
women are in France which you know already."

"I
don't believe they sailed to the continent," Edward responded. "I've
had men searching there. The women would have surfaced in France by now were it
true."

"Why
this concern? They're only women."

"Women
bear children," Edward remarked dryly. "The family claimed a distant
relation to Llywelyn which makes them dangerous. I didn't cut off the head of
one snake to have it grow a half-dozen more." He rose and paced restlessly
about the table. "No... I learned my lesson with Simon de Montfort. I
thought that trouble ended when he was slain at Evesham, only to have his
daughter marry Llywelyn and see every discontented de Montfort adherent in
England flock to the Welsh banner. I'll leave my sons a greater hope for peace
than that!"

Richard
nodded grimly. The scars of England's bloody civil war went deep in his
sovereign and he knew Edward was determined there would never be another such
episode in England's history—at least in his lifetime. "We'll find them.
No one can hide forever." He grinned. "Most especially a woman."

Edward
came around the table and sat down. For a moment he poked absently at a stack
of parchment, then his piercing blue eyes lifted to Richard's. "That
wasn't all I wished to say to you. Hugh de Veasy arrives tomorrow and your
half-brother Philip with him."

Richard
didn't blink. It was only natural that Hugh de Veasy would be called to
Edward's council on the Welsh problem. The Baron of Ravensgate was one of the
most influential men in the south and a good fighting man for all Richard
didn't care for his tactics. But he was a little surprised the haughty nobleman
would bring a green lad like Philip with him. "That's nothing to me,"
he said, keeping his voice neutral.

"Your
brother has been most unwise, and it hasn't escaped our notice," Edward
commented, shifting to the royal we, a sure sign that he was troubled. "He
has talked loud and long about his supposed misfortunes at your hands... oh,
and a great deal more besides. We would have you be on your guard, Richard.
There's to be no trouble here."

Richard's
lip curled up in disdain. "The empty braying of an ass. I don't concern
myself with Philip's noise."

Edward
shifted the paper before him thoughtfully. "An ass perhaps, but an ass
that has attached himself to a most powerful master. A master who bears no love
for you, Richard."

"De
Veasy and I bear no love for each other, but neither are we enemies. We even
respect each other in our way."

"De
Veasy wants North Wales. Christ's bones, the man wants all Wales!" Edward
exclaimed impatiently. "His ambition knows no bounds. And make no mistake,
he would discredit you if he could. I say again, Richard, I want no trouble
between you two. De Veasy has alliances with half the families in the south.
The last thing I need now is some feud to upset the uneasy balance I've
achieved for England."

"You've
given me a job to do in Wales. It's a temporary duty and de Veasy should find
little to upset him in that. I'll be back in England before long. But let him
scheme how he will, he'll not undermine my work."

Edward's
eyes narrowed thoughtfully and the ghost of a smile touched his lips.
"Good. You know I make it a practice not to interfere in petty squabbles
among my nobles, but I thought you might need a hint, Richard. And as for
leaving Wales soon, don't be in any hurry. I need good men and true to hold for
me, especially in the north. I'm pleased with the progress you've reported, and
once you take this Rhys ap Iwan, I want you to stay on to administer my
business until the land is stable. I can't risk another rebellion there with
trouble brewing in Scotland."

Richard's
face fell. Stay on in Wales...

"And
now that we understand each other, I've other matters to see to before I take
my rest. I'll speak with you further after the conference tomorrow."

Richard
forced a smile to his face and took his leave of Edward. Wales. He was going to
have to stay on in Wales.

But
as the dismal thought registered, another took its place, soothing him with an
unexpected feeling of contentment. Elen was at Gwenlyn awaiting his return.

***

Richard
shifted his weight in the saddle, slowing Moroedd with the slightest tightening
of his reins. This was the last time he would exercise the big gray before
turning him over to Edward's head groom. The king had been absurdly delighted
by the gift, but Richard felt a vague qualm at thought of Elen's reaction.
Still, the restive stallion was no mount for her. It was only God's mercy she
hadn't broken her neck on the brute already.

His
gaze drifted from the road to the tranquil beauty of the river Wye flowing past
the high walls of Chepstow Castle. Above the river, the pale limestone cliffs
gleamed white in the summer sun while the water swirled past in a constantly
shifting pattern of silver and blue—a blue as deep and changeable as the color
of Elen's eyes.

Richard
frowned in exasperation. Why did everything here remind him of Elen? She was
just a woman, for pity's sake. Beautiful, yes, but no more so than others he
had known. Still, she filled his thoughts far more than he liked, the memory
making him more easily reconciled to Edward's plan to keep him in Wales. But
after this morning, he might have to fight for that privilege. Hugh de Veasy
wanted Richard's command and was making no secret of the fact.

Richard's
hand tightened involuntarily on the reins, making Moroedd sidle nervously and
shake his head. Christ's blood, de Veasy had already worked out elaborate plans
for subjugating all of Gwynedd—plans that would incite every hotheaded Welshman
to further hopeless rebellion. Fortunately, Edward hadn't listened this morning
despite the urging of the Marcher lords bent on punishment for the conquered
country.

Richard
bit his lip thoughtfully. Edward was right. The Baron of Ravensgate wanted
Wales at any cost. And if he could discredit Richard in the process it would
make the victory that much sweeter.

A
sudden image of hungry, hopeless faces encircling two beaten prisoners flitted
through Richard's head. De Veasy would crush all of Gwynedd beneath his heel
and enjoy doing it. And Elen... what would he do to a woman like Elen? The
thought made his stomach churn, made him suddenly anxious to get back to
Gwynedd. No, Hugh de Veasy would take Gwenlyn over his dead body!

Turning
Moroedd away from the river, Richard eased the big gray into a canter, checking
only as he passed through Chepstow's gate and into the bailey. As he swung down
from the saddle, he handed his reins to a servant, then walked toward the hall.

Near
the stairs, his eye fell on a familiar figure. His half-brother Philip stood
nearby inspecting a horse a young groom held. The boy had grown up in the last
two years, Richard decided, eyeing Philip critically. He still had the dark
good looks of his Norman mother, but for the first time, Richard detected some
look of their father in Philip's slim, muscular build.

Rejecting
his first impulse to enter the keep from another doorway, Richard made his way
toward Philip, uncertain what he would say or even if he truly wished to speak
with the boy. "A fine-looking animal. Is he yours?" he tried, coming
to a halt.

Philip
glanced up, then fell back a step in surprise. "I... I, yes he's mine.
Bought and paid for," he muttered defensively. "But what have you to
say of the matter?"

Richard
felt his brother's hostile stare burn over him. He slid his hand along the
deep-chested roan gelding's powerful shoulder, certain now the coin he'd sent
his father for improvements at Waybridge had gone to purchase this costly
steed. "Only that you have good taste," he said mildly. "This
fellow looks to carry you easily on most any campaign."

We
glanced at his brother. They hadn't seen each other in over two years and what
was past was done. He might at least try to bridge the gap between them.
Besides, Edward wanted no trouble. "I'm glad I see you well, Philip. And I
hear you deserve congratulations. You won your spurs at Walmsley. I was pleased
to hear of your knighting."

A
flush of surprised pleasure warmed the boy's face. "I doubted you'd heard.
It was an unlooked-for piece of good fortune. I unhorsed two opponents at the
tournament and was successful in the melee as well." He shot a suspicious
look at Richard. "Not that it can compare with your glorious record,
brother."

"I
should hope not!" Richard stroked the nervous roan once more, then turned
to Philip with a low chuckle. "I can remember being tossed on my backside
on more than one occasion in my early days."

A
slight grin eased the tightness around the boy's mouth. "How I'd have
loved seeing that."

"I'm
sure you would. I'm just thankful few remember those days save myself. By the
way," Richard added, "how fares our father?"