I am sorry, Caela. This does neither of us any good. Aye. Alditha will do well enough for me,
and that you have chosen her, well, that will bless the match. If you wish me to go to Alditha and
warm her nights, then that I can ‗manage‘.‖
Her face closed over, and he sighed. ―What happened three nights ago, Caela? Both
William and I had evil dreams, and mine was all about you. I thought you in great danger, and
thus I hurried from William‘s court back home.‖
―What happened? Why, nothing, brother.‖ She smiled, but it was false, and Harold knew
that she kept something from him. ―And William dreamed of me as well? What did he say? What
did he do?‖
William again! thought Harold. Why does she speak so much about William?
―He did not say he dreamed of you, Caela. He said he dreamed of great trouble.‖
―Ah. He was angry?‖
―Caela? You said that nothing had happened. Is that the truth?‖
―I am in no danger, Harold. Believe it.‖
Harold didn‘t. She was hiding something from him, just as surely as William had hid
something from him that night he‘d burst into Harold‘s chamber.
What was the interest these two had in each other? Harold felt a wave of jealousy wash
over him.
―Caela—‖
―Trust me,‖ she whispered, her great blue eyes staring steadily into his. ―Trust me.
Please.‖
This time he allowed himself to believe her. ―Yes,‖ he said. ―I do.‖
Later, when Caela had settled to her ever-present needlework (claiming that a headache
kept her from the bustle of Edward‘s court), Swanne came to the chamber, and requested an
audience with the queen.
Surprised, Caela allowed the request, then further granted Swanne some privacy by
asking Judith and the other ladies to retire some distance away.
―Harold has doubtless spoken to you,‖ Swanne said, her voice hard.
Caela inclined her head. She did not look up from her needlework.
Swanne‘s lips compressed into a hard, vicious line. ―Grant me duty within your ladies. I
cannot lose my place at court.‖
Caela finally lifted her eyes. ―My attending ladies are my only haven of peace, sister.
You want that I should shatter it with your presence?‖ She sighed, shaking her head slightly. ―I
cannot offer you a place within my own tiny court. It would go against Harold‘s wishes.‖
―Harold! Have you slept with him yet, little virgin girl? Are you the reason he has turned
so viciously against me?‖
―How dare you ask me that!‖ Spots of colour reddened Caela‘s cheeks. ―How dare you,
when—‖ she glanced at her ladies on the other side of the chamber, ensuring they were not
within hearing range ―—when in our previous life it was you who arranged his death. If he turns
‗viciously against‘ you, Swanne, do you think that my doing, or that of fate, weaving out what
must be?‖
―There is nowhere for me to go.‖
―You have your own lands and estates, Swanne.‖
―I cannot leave court!‖
―Why not? What mischief do you plan? And if you want a court to shine within, then
why not choose William‘s?‖
―Oh, I will. You will never have a place at his side.‖
―I do not wish it,‖ Caela said, calm again, ―but neither do I think you will ever have that
queenly throne on his right hand, Swanne. From all reports, that is Matilda‘s so firmly you could
wish the moon from the sky more easily than wish for that seat. But have no fear…perhaps
William has planned a back room for you. If you wish, I can inform him of what remote county
you linger in, and he can send a horse for you.‖
Swanne rose, her face stiff with anger. ―Is this your little victory over me, then? Enjoy it,
for one day—and soon—it shall be you cast into the cold, and crying out for succour.‖
When she had gone, Caela leaned her head against the high back of her chair, and closed
her eyes. I should not have done that. I should have offered a hand, and my friendship, not harsh
words and the door. Oh, merciful heavens, how could I have allowed my own petty need for
revenge to dictate my actions?
ELEVEN
Aldred, Archbishop of York, was sitting at his noonday meal in his palace just within the
walls of London when one of his manservants hurried over to him.
―My lord,‖ he said, bowing respectfully. ―The Lady Swanne begs audience.‖
Aldred paused with a knife, a tempting piece of juicy meat speared on its blade, halfway
to his mouth. He blinked, his mouth hanging open, a dribble of saliva glistening at one corner,
and stared at the servant.
―The Lady Swanne?‖ he said.
―Aye, my lord. She begs audience. Urgently. My lord, she is in a state of some distress.‖
Aldred blinked again, then slowly, and obviously very reluctantly, put the knife and its
tempting morsel back on the plate.
―Well, I suppose I‘d better see her,‖ he said. Then, hopefully, ―She might not wait until I
have finished eating?‖
The servant glanced at the table with its array of over fourteen different dishes. ―I think
not, my lord. She does appear to be in some need.‖
Aldred sighed, and rearranged his fleshy features into a scowl. ―Oh, very well then. Send
her in.‖
The servant hurried out, and as he went, one of the corners of Aldred‘s mouth upturned
briefly, as if in a smile.
Swanne entered in a swish of skirts and cloak. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed
(which fortunately hid the slight bruise that was deepening on one of them) and her abundant black hair artfully arranged atop her head.
She wore no veil, and Aldred noted that her gown was most unseemly for this hour of the
day. It was one a noble lady might more properly wear to a private banquet, for its neck was
square cut and low, unlike the high necklines of public gowns.
―My lord!‖ she said, and dropped in a deep curtsey.
Aldred blinked yet once more, finding it difficult to lift his eyes away from the sight of
her breasts straining at that low neckline.
―Ahem,‖ he managed as Swanne rose to her feet. ―What can be the matter, my dear
lady?‖
―Harold has abandoned me,‖ she said. ―He has renounced our marriage.‖
Aldred spluttered, then succumbed to a fit of coughing so violent he had to cover his
mouth with a napkin lest he spray pieces of half-chewed food over the table.
―How is this possible?‖ he finally asked. ―Why? Why?‖
―He wants a good wife under Christian law,‖ Swanne said, sitting down at a bench at the
side of the table. ―He wants the throne, my good lord archbishop, as you know, and he thinks it
more likely the Church, witan and England will accept him with a Christian-wed wife, rather
than a Danelaw one.‖
―But this is…is…so…‖
―After all I have done for him!‖ Swanne‘s eyes filled with tears, and her breasts heaved
with the strength of her emotion. ―What can I do? What? I have been abandoned… abandoned. ‖
―My dear woman,‖ Aldred said, laying aside his napkin. ―You need not pretend such
distress to me. Harold has discovered your communication with William, yes? His reaction can
hardly be of great surprise to you.‖
―Did you tell him?‖
―No. I did not.‖
―Well, that may be as may be. My lord archbishop, I need your aid as never before. Your
vast palace has many spaces and chambers. May I not inhabit one of them?‖
Aldred‘s mouth dropped open yet again. ―My lady! What would people think!‖
Swanne shrugged. ―They can think what they like, my lord. Besides, it will do you no
harm. Many of the higher clerics keep mistresses, even wives, without any repercussions.‖
―You are offering yourself to me as…as…‖
―No!‖ Swanne fought briefly with herself, managing to keep the disgust from her face.
―No, not at all, my lord. I was only arguing that even should people think the blackest, it would
not harm your reputation. Indeed, it may even add to it.‖ She attempted a coquettish smile, but it faded almost as soon as it had lit her face. ―I only want a chamber, my lord.‖
―But…why? You have estates in your own right. I would have thought that—‖
―No! No, I must stay in Westminster, or London.‖
―Why?‖
―For my children‘s sake, my lord. I need to be assured that Harold will not forsake them
as he has forsaken me. I fear that should I vanish to the country, he will disinherit them.‖ Swanne
felt like screaming: I have to stay in London!
Aldred sighed. ―I asked you not to pretend with me, my lady. You have no thought for
your children. You never mention them, never think of them. They have only ever been but a
means to keep Harold tied to you, and thus you to Westminster and Edward‘s court. You think