Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

fear and shock and disbelief. She could not afford to be banished to the countryside!

Gods… gods! How had Harold known? William could not have betrayed her to Harold.

He could not.

Could he?

TEN

Harold went straight from his bedchamber to that of Caela, hoping she had returned from

St Paul‘s by now.

He burst into Caela‘s chamber almost as abruptly as he had into his own to find Judith

and two other ladies removing Caela‘s outer clothing.

―Harold!‖ Caela spun about to face him, waving a dismissal to her ladies at the same

time.

―Caela, thank God you have returned from your worship.‖ Harold walked across to her as

the women left the chamber and, placing his hands on her shoulders, bent to kiss her briefly and

dispassionately on the mouth. ―You are well?‖

―Aye, I am. But, Harold…ah, thank God to see you well.‖

Harold managed a smile and, checking to see that all of Caela‘s attending ladies had left

the room, said, ―William did not murder me, sister. He is not a man of Tostig‘s treachery.‖

She let out a long breath of sheer relief, and placed the palm of her hand against his

cheek. ―What…ah, Harold, what happened?‖

He took her by the hand and led her back to the bed so they could both sit down. As he

talked, relating to her all that he‘d seen and heard and talked of with William, he kept her hand

tight in his own.

―He is a good man,‖ Harold finished. ―I cannot find it in my heart to hate him.‖ He let out

a short, dry laugh. ―Even to distrust him. And what a thing that is to say about a man who makes

no attempt to hide his own ambition for the English throne.‖

―You liked him,‖ Caela said, her eyes searching Harold‘s face.

―Aye, that I did. In a strange manner, we have become friends, even though our

ambitions make us sworn enemies. He is an honourable man, Caela.‖

She smiled, and Harold thought he‘d never seen her look lovelier. ―How he has

changed,‖ she said. ―I am glad. I am so glad.‖

Harold frowned. ―‗How he has changed‘? But you have never met him.‖

Caela looked away, her face closing over. ―I have only heard rumours, brother.‖

And William spoke of Caela in a manner that made me wonder if ever he had met her,

Harold thought. He lifted a hand, and gently turned Caela‘s face back to meet his.

―Is Swanne the only one who has been secretly communicating with William?‖ he said.

―William was as interested in you as you have been in him. Why all this interest, Caela?‖

―I have had no communication with William,‖ she said, her gaze unflinching, and he

believed her.

―And I am interested in William for the same reason you are, Harold. He seeks the

English throne.‖

―You do not need to fear him, Caela. Not personally. He has sworn to me that if…if fate

favours him in this wrestle for England, then he will do you no harm, nor harm to any of my

children.‖

―He said that?‖ Caela smiled, although it was tinged with sadness. ―I had thought he

might be vindictive…hard. It is what I had…heard of him.‖

―Vicious rumour only. William is an honourable man.‖

―Ah, Harold, I hope his promises never have to be kept.‖

There was a silence, and Caela became uncomfortable under Harold‘s regard. ―Harold,

tell me, what manner of man is William? Come now, hold nothing back. Tell me of William and

Matilda.‖

He laughed softly. ―William is a tall man, and strong in build. And handsome, with black,

dancing eyes and a magnetism about him that surely draws women to him like bees to the honey

pot. Mayhap you will think he will be a prettier face to have about this court than mine.‖

― Never. ‖

―Aye, well…I think he looks at no one but Matilda. I do not think even Swanne can draw

him away from her.‖

―Do you think that William knows Swanne for what she is, and thus leans to Matilda?‖

―William respects and trusts and treasures his wife. I think he knows it is something he

could not achieve with Swanne.‖

Again Caela breathed out as if in deep relief, and Harold looked carefully at her. ―Caela,

will you promise me something?‖

―Anything.‖

―If by wicked fate William defeats me to take the throne, will you support him?‖

― How can you ask that of me? ‖

―If I am defeated I do not want to think that England will tear itself apart trying to resist

William. You will be the dowager queen, people will listen to you—‖

―Listen to me? God‘s Concubine? The always-dismissed wife of Edward? Harold, I do

not think that—‖

―You are far more than that, Caela. Do you think I cannot see? That I do not watch the

way you move, and what you say, and watch how other people respond to you? In the past

weeks…I don‘t know…in the past weeks you have somehow come into your true self. People

have always listened to you, and respected you, whatever Edward has said and done. Now, I

think there might be something even more than ‗respect‘ behind their regard.‖ He sighed,

dropped his eyes, and stroked her hand where it rested in his.

―Caela, please. Do this for me if you do nothing else. If William takes the throne over my

dead body, then support him. The witan will take what you say and consider it. They will not

dismiss you. The people will not dismiss you, nor what you say. Caela, please, I ask you this for

the sake of the land—‖

Something flitted across her face, an expression Harold could not read, and her hands

jumped slightly where they clasped his.

―—for England, and everything that it is. Will you do this for me? Will you support

William if…if it comes to pass?‖

―Oh, Harold…‖ her voice broke. ―Do not speak of your death!‖

― Promise me this! ‖

She blinked away her tears, then nodded. ―For the land, I promise, Harold.‖

―Thank you.‖ He leaned forward and kissed her again, but this time did not immediately

draw away. Their mouths locked, and Harold‘s free hand slipped behind Caela‘s head and

pressed her the more firmly into him.

She moaned softly, and probably with desire rather than distress, but it was enough to

make Harold draw back.

―Oh God,‖ he breathed. ―Caela, I am sorry.‖

―No! Never say that. Be sorry for the fact we cannot be together, but not for the fact that

you love me.‖

He kissed her again, softly, and then shifted his mouth to her ear. ―Cruel fate,‖ he

whispered.

―Crueller than you realise,‖ she said.

For a long moment they sat there, their faces close, feeling the play of the other‘s breath

over their faces, then Harold sighed, and sat back.

―I have heard news of Tostig this morning,‖ he said softly.

―I do not know if I want to hear of it.‖

―He has gone to Hardrada.‖

She was silent.

―He will not defeat me. I promise you this. But William…well, William I respect. That‘s

why I asked you to pledge as you did.‖

―What of Swanne?‖ Caela said. ―Have you seen her since you returned?‖

―Ah, Swanne! I think William distrusts her as much as I do, Caela.‖

―Really?‖

―And, yes, I have finally had done with her. I visited our chamber before coming here. I

severed the ties between us. She is gone, and you, my dear,‖ he hesitated an instant, ―must find

me a new wife, someone suitable to be a queen.‖

She looked away, composed herself, then nodded. ―I have found a woman,‖ she said, her

face and voice very quiet. ―Do you wish to hear of her?‖

―Does she bear your name?‖

―Harold…‖

―I am sorry. Yes, tell me of this woman.‖

―Do you remember Alditha, Harold? She is the sister of—‖

―The earls Edwin and Morcar, aye, I know of her. But she is married to that Welsh lord.

Ah! I can never remember his name!‖

―He died some months ago, Harold. And now the pretty Lady Alditha, with all her lands

and estates and ancestry and alliances, sleeps unattended in the chamber which once was the

Bishop of Kent‘s. So close to yours.‖

Harold‘s eyes had grown very dark. ―I wish it were you lying unattended and alone in the

chamber of the Bishop of Kent,‖ he said. ―I wish it were you lying alone and widowed at night.‖

―I cannot,‖ she whispered, her face stricken. ―If you truly want this throne, Harold, then I

cannot. ‖

―What say you, sister? That should I renounce my ambition for the throne, then you will

be mine?‖

―We cannot, Harold.‖ She shifted on the bed, putting space between herself and Harold.

―Alditha is a good woman. I am sure you will manage.‖

―I would rather a woman I could love.‖ He saw the stricken expression on her face. ―Ah,