to make sure you were all right.'
'You're a fool,' she hissed. 'Of course I am. Besides, it's a bit late to be worrying about the state of the Bigods' honour now, isn't it?'
'I'm going to miss you,' Richard said glumly. 'I never thought I'd say such a thing when we squabbled as children, but it's true. Who else is going to tell me what a dolt I am?'
Mahelt's precarious control threatened to desert her. 'Don't say anything else, Richard, in God's name do not! You will make me weep and I will not have my new family or our parents see me in tears. This is a joyful occasion!'
'Of course it is.' The enthusiasm in his voice rang like a knell.
'Then do not be such an idiot!' She gave him a swift, fierce hug and he returned the embrace full measure. 'I'm going to miss you too.' He was like a young bear and her ribs almost cracked under the pressure. I will not cry, she told herself. I will never cry.
A new dance had begun and Richard led her into the first set of steps, and then passed her to their father, and Mahelt fixed the smile to her lips, even though her heart was aching and all she wanted to do was latch on to the security of her childhood and not let go.
'Sweetheart,' her father said, and touched her face. 'I am proud of you.'
She made herself smile up at him, as if this was the happiest moment of her life, and hoped that he had not felt the dampness of her tears under his thumb. And he smiled back. She saw the warmth in his eyes and also the sadness. He wore his own face but with the courtier's mask over the top. She would be like him, and no one would know of her anxiety and grief.
Her father passed her gently on to Hugh.'Take care of her,' he said, his voice coming from deep in his chest.
'With my life,' Hugh answered and Mahelt felt her new husband mesh his fingers through hers and put his hand to her waist for the lift and leap. She went with him, light and lithe, and when he set her down, it was in a different place to where she had been before, not between her brother and her father, but between Hugh and his father, so that in changing places in the dance, she had also changed families.
11
Framlingham, February 1207
Mahelt looked out of her chamber window as she pinned a brooch at the throat of her dress. The February morning was mild and bright - a teasing forerunner of the spring that was still a month away. The first skinny white lambs were staggering beside their mothers and the evenings had started to lengthen.
She was slowly settling into her new life, but found many aspects awkward and strange. The Bigod household was very different to the Marshal one, and although everyone was kind to her, she missed being the centre of attention and the apple of her father's eye. She couldn't be the apple of Hugh's while they were not truly man and wife, nor could she get to know him properly as a partner when they were always chaperoned. He had ridden out two days ago to deal with affairs in Yorkshire, so for the moment she didn't have his company at all. She was wary of Hugh's father, who was not bound in affection to her; his attitude towards her was informed by duty and responsibility. He was protective, but he was strict about the niches people occupied in his household. His opinion was that if everyone knew their place, all would run smoothly, but if they deviated from their allotted roles, chaos would ensue.
Straightening her dress, Mahelt left her chamber and crossed the courtyard to the new hall and Countess Ida's solar, which overlooked the gardens and the mere. Ida sat at a frame weaving a length of braid. Her women were busy with other textile crafts and the shutters were open so that the morning light streamed in to illuminate the fabrics and enrich their colours. The sight reminded Mahelt of similar industry at home. This might almost have been her mother's chamber at Pembroke or Striguil. Such dedicated work was not particularly to Mahelt's taste, although she was competent. She
'You're a fool,' she hissed. 'Of course I am. Besides, it's a bit late to be worrying about the state of the Bigods' honour now, isn't it?'
'I'm going to miss you,' Richard said glumly. 'I never thought I'd say such a thing when we squabbled as children, but it's true. Who else is going to tell me what a dolt I am?'
Mahelt's precarious control threatened to desert her. 'Don't say anything else, Richard, in God's name do not! You will make me weep and I will not have my new family or our parents see me in tears. This is a joyful occasion!'
'Of course it is.' The enthusiasm in his voice rang like a knell.
'Then do not be such an idiot!' She gave him a swift, fierce hug and he returned the embrace full measure. 'I'm going to miss you too.' He was like a young bear and her ribs almost cracked under the pressure. I will not cry, she told herself. I will never cry.
A new dance had begun and Richard led her into the first set of steps, and then passed her to their father, and Mahelt fixed the smile to her lips, even though her heart was aching and all she wanted to do was latch on to the security of her childhood and not let go.
'Sweetheart,' her father said, and touched her face. 'I am proud of you.'
She made herself smile up at him, as if this was the happiest moment of her life, and hoped that he had not felt the dampness of her tears under his thumb. And he smiled back. She saw the warmth in his eyes and also the sadness. He wore his own face but with the courtier's mask over the top. She would be like him, and no one would know of her anxiety and grief.
Her father passed her gently on to Hugh.'Take care of her,' he said, his voice coming from deep in his chest.
'With my life,' Hugh answered and Mahelt felt her new husband mesh his fingers through hers and put his hand to her waist for the lift and leap. She went with him, light and lithe, and when he set her down, it was in a different place to where she had been before, not between her brother and her father, but between Hugh and his father, so that in changing places in the dance, she had also changed families.
11
Framlingham, February 1207
Mahelt looked out of her chamber window as she pinned a brooch at the throat of her dress. The February morning was mild and bright - a teasing forerunner of the spring that was still a month away. The first skinny white lambs were staggering beside their mothers and the evenings had started to lengthen.
She was slowly settling into her new life, but found many aspects awkward and strange. The Bigod household was very different to the Marshal one, and although everyone was kind to her, she missed being the centre of attention and the apple of her father's eye. She couldn't be the apple of Hugh's while they were not truly man and wife, nor could she get to know him properly as a partner when they were always chaperoned. He had ridden out two days ago to deal with affairs in Yorkshire, so for the moment she didn't have his company at all. She was wary of Hugh's father, who was not bound in affection to her; his attitude towards her was informed by duty and responsibility. He was protective, but he was strict about the niches people occupied in his household. His opinion was that if everyone knew their place, all would run smoothly, but if they deviated from their allotted roles, chaos would ensue.
Straightening her dress, Mahelt left her chamber and crossed the courtyard to the new hall and Countess Ida's solar, which overlooked the gardens and the mere. Ida sat at a frame weaving a length of braid. Her women were busy with other textile crafts and the shutters were open so that the morning light streamed in to illuminate the fabrics and enrich their colours. The sight reminded Mahelt of similar industry at home. This might almost have been her mother's chamber at Pembroke or Striguil. Such dedicated work was not particularly to Mahelt's taste, although she was competent. She
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