if you have or have not failed?”
They rode in silence again, and Brian kept his distance because he knew that if he let her in, he would fall apart under the truth of her stare and he could not allow that to happen.
She was right. Honour was both a gilded fancy and a stinking corpse, and she had not been the one to murder it in the name of strategy.
75
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Nine
Rouen, Summer 1127
M atilda dropped a curtsey to her future husband while rebellion surged through every fibre of her being, warring with her duty to her father, to Normandy, and to England.
Geoffrey of Anjou was a truly beautiful youth, with smooth alabaster skin, hair of warm apricot-gold, and eyes the colour of clear sea shallows. He had a prominent Adam’s apple, a voice that had scarcely broken, and a supercilious curl to his top lip that made her loathe him. Although he bowed to her deferentially, she could tell he did not mean it. This betrothal was a travesty, a golden cloak laid over a corpse. How in the name of Saint James was she going to lie in a marriage bed with him? As he slipped a great sapphire ring on to her finger, she was aware of her father smiling with satisfaction, and felt sick. Beside him, Adeliza smiled too, her face bright with the pleasure that Matilda was obeying her father’s wishes.
The marriage was not to take place until Geoffrey was made Count of Anjou. First, today came the vow of consent, pinning her down while the bars of her cage were constructed around her.
Geoffrey escorted her to the formal feast that had been prepared in the great hall of the palace of Rouen. He extended his arm for her to set her palm to his sleeve and performed LadyofEnglish.indd 76
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Lady of the English
the formal bows and flourishes under the watchful gaze of her father and his. His swagger as he walked and the conceit in his eyes made her want to swipe him round the ear as she would a disrespectful page boy. She could think of nothing to say to him because they had nothing in common. She neither knew nor cared about his likes and dislikes, for whatever they were, none would match hers. The way he puffed out his chest and smiled with bravado at his cronies reminded her of a young cockerel that hadn’t developed its full plumage, yet still wanted to strut on the dung heap. Was she supposed to be impressed by this?
She had to share dishes with him as they dined. He did not ask what she wanted to eat, but, showing off, displayed that he could deal with the food neatly and precisely. He carved meat from a bone with an arrogant flourish of his jewelled sleeve. He dissected a pigeon with a delicacy that was intimate and almost erotic and made Matilda feel ill as she saw the smirk on his lips.
This posturing, supercilious boy was to be her consort and the father of her children?
Between courses, as Geoffrey went off with a comrade to empty his bladder, Adeliza took the opportunity to squeeze Matilda’s hand. “It’s not so bad,” she whispered with an encouraging smile. “He is truly handsome and much older than his years, do you not think?”
Matilda could feel Adeliza willing her to return the smile and agree, wanting everything to be right. But how could it be, when she had known such a different world of power, dignity, and cherished deference where her opinions and goodwill were actively sought? She could already tell she would receive no such consideration from Geoffrey of Anjou. “I do not know,”
she said, “but he makes me feel much older than mine.”
ttt
Henry of Blois, abbot of Glastonbury, folded his robes neatly over his lap and sat down on the hearth bench to regard his 77
LadyofEnglish.indd 77
6/9/11 5:35 PM
Elizabeth Chadwick
brothers Stephen and Theobald. Most of Rouen slept under a clear, dark sky salted with stars, but here at Stephen’s lodging, candles still burned in the sconces and a recently replenished jug of wine stood on the table. Henry poured himself a
They rode in silence again, and Brian kept his distance because he knew that if he let her in, he would fall apart under the truth of her stare and he could not allow that to happen.
She was right. Honour was both a gilded fancy and a stinking corpse, and she had not been the one to murder it in the name of strategy.
75
LadyofEnglish.indd 75
6/9/11 5:35 PM
Nine
Rouen, Summer 1127
M atilda dropped a curtsey to her future husband while rebellion surged through every fibre of her being, warring with her duty to her father, to Normandy, and to England.
Geoffrey of Anjou was a truly beautiful youth, with smooth alabaster skin, hair of warm apricot-gold, and eyes the colour of clear sea shallows. He had a prominent Adam’s apple, a voice that had scarcely broken, and a supercilious curl to his top lip that made her loathe him. Although he bowed to her deferentially, she could tell he did not mean it. This betrothal was a travesty, a golden cloak laid over a corpse. How in the name of Saint James was she going to lie in a marriage bed with him? As he slipped a great sapphire ring on to her finger, she was aware of her father smiling with satisfaction, and felt sick. Beside him, Adeliza smiled too, her face bright with the pleasure that Matilda was obeying her father’s wishes.
The marriage was not to take place until Geoffrey was made Count of Anjou. First, today came the vow of consent, pinning her down while the bars of her cage were constructed around her.
Geoffrey escorted her to the formal feast that had been prepared in the great hall of the palace of Rouen. He extended his arm for her to set her palm to his sleeve and performed LadyofEnglish.indd 76
6/9/11 5:35 PM
Lady of the English
the formal bows and flourishes under the watchful gaze of her father and his. His swagger as he walked and the conceit in his eyes made her want to swipe him round the ear as she would a disrespectful page boy. She could think of nothing to say to him because they had nothing in common. She neither knew nor cared about his likes and dislikes, for whatever they were, none would match hers. The way he puffed out his chest and smiled with bravado at his cronies reminded her of a young cockerel that hadn’t developed its full plumage, yet still wanted to strut on the dung heap. Was she supposed to be impressed by this?
She had to share dishes with him as they dined. He did not ask what she wanted to eat, but, showing off, displayed that he could deal with the food neatly and precisely. He carved meat from a bone with an arrogant flourish of his jewelled sleeve. He dissected a pigeon with a delicacy that was intimate and almost erotic and made Matilda feel ill as she saw the smirk on his lips.
This posturing, supercilious boy was to be her consort and the father of her children?
Between courses, as Geoffrey went off with a comrade to empty his bladder, Adeliza took the opportunity to squeeze Matilda’s hand. “It’s not so bad,” she whispered with an encouraging smile. “He is truly handsome and much older than his years, do you not think?”
Matilda could feel Adeliza willing her to return the smile and agree, wanting everything to be right. But how could it be, when she had known such a different world of power, dignity, and cherished deference where her opinions and goodwill were actively sought? She could already tell she would receive no such consideration from Geoffrey of Anjou. “I do not know,”
she said, “but he makes me feel much older than mine.”
ttt
Henry of Blois, abbot of Glastonbury, folded his robes neatly over his lap and sat down on the hearth bench to regard his 77
LadyofEnglish.indd 77
6/9/11 5:35 PM
Elizabeth Chadwick
brothers Stephen and Theobald. Most of Rouen slept under a clear, dark sky salted with stars, but here at Stephen’s lodging, candles still burned in the sconces and a recently replenished jug of wine stood on the table. Henry poured himself a
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