We talked a while longer, and then left the chapel and returned to the king’s privy apartments, where Alianor introduced me to her husband, and the four of us sat chatting in a quiet corner until it was time for us to proceed in to dine.
Chapter Six
I accompanied the king in to dinner, which was a great honour, and then sat at his side to eat, sharing a platter with him. I was cautious of what I said, and possibly over-watchful of my table manners, but Edmond was a calming companion and, unlike his son, I did not feel I had to watch every word I said.
I would lie if I denied that sitting at the king’s hand to eat and sharing his platter while the eyes of the court were upon me, did not give me some small pleasure and thrill of excitement. I looked at the lower tables, at the many noble men and women, dressed in such richness, eating from the gleaming gilt and pewter of the king’s plate, and wondered how it was that I had come to this means.
Raife sat down the end of the high table with a bishop and Henry (I did not envy my husband his company, and was grateful that Henry was seated so far from me), while on my side of the table sat the earls of Warwick and Pembroke, Roger de Beaumont and Gilbert de Clare, and their wives, who were pleasant company.
I soon relaxed and ate daintily, both through not wanting to appear the pig before Edmond (and the watching eyes) and because my stomach had recently become queasy, and I did not want, as Evelyn had once so delicately put it, to spew across high table. Most of the time, I used my old silver eating knife to cut my meat into ever smaller pieces, moving them about the plate, and occasionally lifting a tiny morsel to my mouth.
The initial stages of the meal were spent sipping wine and sharing general conversation with those near me, the earls and their wives to my left, and Edmond and a bishop (I forgot his name and titles as soon as I heard them) to my right.
But, as the platters of food began to arrive in earnest, Edmond became my exclusive conversational companion.
Our conversation was of the most ordinary kind at first, then Edmond asked me to describe for him what it was like at Pengraic when the plague struck.
I had just sipped from my cup of wine. Now I put it down and, my eyes gleaming with tears, told him as much as I could without veering onto the nightmarish subject of Stephen’s, Rosamund’s and John’s deaths. Edmond was a sympathetic listener, stopping me occasionally to seek further detail from me.
I felt comfortable with him. Edmond’s manner was warm and sympathetic, and he had a way of putting me so completely at ease that the fact he was also King of England receded completely from my mind. All the gossip I had heard about him — and had intuited about him previously — as a man always on the hunt for a new mistress, also receded completely.
I felt as I did with Owain. That he was a friend and that I could say to him anything I wished.
Still, I was careful.
‘I cannot imagine the pain you have been through, Maeb,’ Edmond said. ‘The terror. Pengraic thought the castle safe, as did I, and when the news came …’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘It cut many hearts open, Maeb.’
‘It has been terrible for many people, my lord. On the ride to London Raife and I saw so much suffering, the burned villages and towns, the deserted fields, the people on the road. In the south-east of the country, I believe it was also bad?’
‘Yes. Devastating. The counties from Dovre through south of London … by God, Maeb, in some areas there is nothing left save the burned stubble of crops that will never be harvested, and of homes and churches that will never have foot step in them again. Those people left may not ever recover.’
‘You had to send my husband there to quell unrest?’
Edmond nodded, signalling to the servitor to replenish our cups with more wine. ‘There was panic and commotion as people tried to flee the plague yet only spread it further. Thank sweet Jesu it did not reach London. By God, I do not know what will happen if it strikes again, or if it travels further. The harvest will be small this year as so many crops have burned, or have been left to perish unheeded because there is none left to harvest them.’
He stopped, fiddling with his wine cup, his eyes roaming over the hall. ‘Much of this autumn and winter court, Maeb, will be spent trying to plan and prepare for spring and summer, when the plague is likely to rise again. It is why I wanted your husband here so badly. Pengraic commands much land in England, and many men, and he is a wise man, and moderate and unambitious when I am surrounded by many immoderate ambitious men who offer me advice designed only to advance their own means.’
He gave a small grunt of amusement. ‘Whatever you may have heard, Maeb, I trust your husband as I do very few men.’
‘Yet others say you distrust him, and fear his power.’
Edmond looked at me, his gaze keen. ‘I think your husband has his eye set on other prizes, not my throne, Maeb. I need not fear him.’
‘What other prizes?’
‘Ah,’ Edmond smiled, and supped at his wine, ‘he is your husband. Ask him yourself. Some men covet forgiveness, some sainthood, some have dreams that exist nowhere but their own minds. All I am sure of is that Pengraic is a driven man, but not, praise the saints, driven to acquiring my throne. He has secrets I cannot know, but I do not feel threatened by them.’
He pulled off a few tender bits of swan breast and put them on my plate. ‘You should eat more.’
‘My lord, it is the child. I dare do little more than nibble.’
‘You know, Maeb, when word came to me that Raife had married you, I, as many people, was somewhat surprised. I would have bedded you, I would not have married you. Pengraic could have had any great heiress in this country. Why you?’
Now, suddenly, the conversation had turned very personal. I said nothing, pushing the pieces of meat about my plate with my fingers.
‘Your beauty, that I can understand. But that can be enjoyed with a bedding, it does not demand a marriage. Pengraic has had mistresses in the past, why not yet another one? So I asked myself — why Maeb? And I have finally found that reason, through my conversations with you tonight, and with others.’
Alianor, I thought. Edmond sent me off with Raife so he could talk to Alianor.
The thought that she had been used to discover information about me made me feel somewhat sad, but not particularly surprised.
‘And that reason is … my lord?’
‘You do not realise?’
‘No.’
‘Well, no, you wouldn’t.’ Again that smile, those warm eyes radiating friendliness. ‘It is your complete artlessness, Maeb. Your trueness and honesty. You say what you think. Ah — I see the disbelief on your face, for I am sure you have secrets, as does everyone. Secrets aside, to have the freshness, the lack of guile, the honesty and the spirit, all combined with great beauty, is a heady mixture indeed. You do not come from a noble background and your elevation to countess must have been difficult for you, yet you sit here and converse with a king with ease.’
He paused, fingers tapping slowly on the table. ‘You are a complex woman, Maeb. An unexpected treasure. Did Stephen want you as well?’
That sudden question startled me. I opened my mouth, but did not know how to answer.
Edmond narrowed his eyes. ‘Your reddened cheeks and your wordlessness answers me well enough, Maeb. Is there any man who has not yet fallen under your spell?’
‘Many, my lord,’ I answered.
‘My son among them,’ Edmond said, surprising me with his honesty. ‘Be careful of him, Maeb. Try not to be artless about him.’
I wondered what Henry had been saying to his father, and it made me wonder why Edmond had asked me to describe what had happened at Pengraic when the plague struck. Was he seeking to trap me over some minor detail? Discover a means to make me confess to Stephen’s, Rosamund’s and John’s murders?
‘Thank you, my lord,’ I said.
Edmond studied me seriously, then gave a nod. His eyes, normally so warm, were now watchful, wary.
‘Be careful, Maeb. I am not your enemy and I will protect you as much as I am able. But even I cannot guarantee your safety.’