Lady of Hay Barbara Erskine (reading books for 7 year olds TXT) 📖

courage, ma p'tite, " and muttered magic words over the bed in which Matilda and William had slept, to help ease the girl's troubles. Each night had been the same. He had not spared her for her father's sake, nor had she expected it. The pain, after the first time, had not been so bad.

The elder William rode in front of them, the chestnut rump of his horse glistening beneath its gay caparlson-in the pale autumn sunlight. They were nearing a wayside chapel when Matilda, keeping her eyes fixed resolutely on her father-in-law's broad back, was surprised to see him raise his hand, bringing the long procession to a halt. Then he turned in the high saddle. "I'll wait, my son, " he announced curtly. Matilda glanced at her husband, who was dismounting. He ducked under his horse's head and came to her side. "I always pray at holy places, " he announced self-righteously. "I should like you to accompany me. " He helped her down from the horse and, taking her arm, ushered her into the chapel. Puzzled, she glanced over her shoulder. No one else had made a move to join them. The entire cortege stood in the settling dust, disinterested, bored, as their lord's eldest son and his bride ducked into the dark chapel. For some reason Matilda suddenly felt afraid.

She knelt reluctantly beside her husband as he prayed. No words came to her own lips; her throat was dry. The Virgin had not heeded her supplications when her help had been needed so much. Now it was too late. What was the point of praying?

She glanced sideways at William. His eyes were closed, the short sandy lashes veiling the pale irises, the coarse folded flesh of his chin resting on the thick wool of his blue mantle. On his shoulder there was a large circular brooch, at its center a purple amethyst. The stone caught a little spark of light from the candle at the shrine.

They stopped a dozen times like this on the long journey and each time Matilda, too afraid to refuse, alone dismounted with her husband. But not once did she try to pray.

Bramber Castle was built high on a hill overlooking the marshes that flanked the River Adur. From far away they could see the tall keep rising against the burnished blue sky while gulls circled the towers, their laughing cries echoing across the salty reed beds.

Bertha, daughter of Milo of Gloucester, heiress of Breck-nock-and Upper Gwent, the wife of Sir William de Braose and Matilda's mother-in-law, was waiting for her husband and son in the lofty great hall. She was a stout woman of middle height, some years older than her husband, with white hair falling in long plaits to her waist. Her eyes were brown as hazelnuts and very shrewd. She kissed Matilda coolly and then held her at arms' length, scrutinizing her closely until the girl felt herself blushing uncomfortably beneath the uncompromising gaze.

"So, my son's bride, " Bertha announced at last. "Welcome to Bramber, child. " The words were not softened by a smile.

Then Bertha turned aside, drawing her son with her, and Matilda was left standing alone. After a moment, William's father joined her. He smiled. "I hope it won't seem too strange, my dear, " he murmured. "My son is a good man. Harsh sometimes, but good. "

Matilda lifted her green eyes to his and forced herself to return his smile, which was friendly enough. "Thank you, sir, " she whispered. "I am sure I shall do very well with William. " Happiness, they both knew, was not part of the marriage contract.

She became conscious slowly that Sir William's eyes had strayed beyond her. Someone was standing behind her near the hearth.

"Lord de Clare! My wife told me you were here. Greetings. " The old man stretched out his hands with sudden warmth. Turning, Matilda saw he was addressing a slim young man, dressed in a scarlet mantle caught at the shoulder with gold. He had laughing hazel eyes and a shock of wheat-color hair.

"Sir William, I was persuaded by Lady Bertha to wait for you. " Lord de Clare stepped forward to clasp his host's hands. Then he turned to Matilda. He bowed, smiling. "Madam?"

"This is my daughter-in-law, " Sir William put in hastily. "Matilda, Lord de Clare has threatened this long time to ride over from his castle at Tonbridge to see my mews, haven't you, my boy?" The old man was plainly delighted to see his visitor.

"Lord de Clare. " Matilda curtseyed and her heart inexplicably began to beat a little faster as she surveyed the young man's handsome face.

He grinned. "Do you enjoy hawking, madam? It should be an exciting day. I'm told there is good sport on these marshes. "

"Indeed there is!" Sir William put in good-naturedly. "You must join us, Matilda. Watch my birds trounce this young fellow's, eh?" He chuckled broadly.

Matilda didn't hear him. She was drowning in the young man's gaze.

"So it was too late even when they first met, " Sarah whispered softly. "She was already married to that boor! See if she and Richard ever managed to meet alone. Please, Carl. Ask her. "

Bennet frowned. Nevertheless he leaned forward a little as he put the question. "Did you go hawking with Lord de Clare, Matilda? Did you manage to speak to him again?"

Jo smiled. Her eyes, open and dancing, were the eyes of a carefree girl.

"We rode away from the others, south toward Sompting. The forest over the Downs is thick with oak trees there and their leaves were gold and brown with autumn. Richard flew his peregrine when we got to the chalk fields and I pretended to fall from my horse. I knew he would dismount and come to me. I wanted him to hold me in his arms so much.... "

"My lady! My lady, are you hurt?" Richard's face was near hers as she lay still on the ground. He