Catheryn sighed, and opened her eyes. It was no good: whatever she attempted to do, she could never completely forget her loneliness, and her longing to be home. As much as Catheryn was acclimatising to her new life, it was as if a flower had been planted in the shade when it loved the sun: it would live, but it would be but a half-life, and that life was worth very little.
The clouds that were moving across the sky did so lazily. There was barely a breeze in the air.
Catheryn raised a hand up, reaching for the white fluffy cloud that was currently wandering across the sky. Her hand moved higher than the grass that was surrounding her, and she chuckled slightly, imagining what a passer-by must think – an arm growing amongst the crops, grasping to catch the sky!
No matter how far she stretched, Catheryn could not quite reach the clouds that looked as if they were just beyond her fingertips. Hand still in the air, Catheryn closed her eyes once more, and began to hum one of her favourite lullabies. She had sung it to quieten both of her children when they had been small, and the tune came to her easily.
Images passed before her eyes quickly, as if they were really open, and she had found some way of returning to that favourite country – the past. Her husband, Selwyn, smiled at her, and Annis ran about her, still a toddler, shrieking with delight at the world. Whether memories or imaginings, they brought a smile to Catheryn’s face.
“By God, woman, what are you doing?”
Catheryn jumped up, eyes wide open in shock. Not far away stood one of the largest horses that she had ever seen – black, and huge, and panting wildly. It had obviously been on the move for a very long time; but Catheryn’s expert eye guessed that it had not been moving fast. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had not heard its approach. There was a man atop the horse, disbelief and anger in his eyes. He had spoken Norman, a Norman that was harsh and clipped in tone.
Catheryn bristled. “I am… at least, I was lying down on the ground,” she said defiantly, with as much dignity as she could muster at such short notice. “Not that it is any concern of yours,” she added.
“Everything here is my concern,” he said curtly, casting a quick eye over the fields in all directions. “You are a fool, lying there with a hand in the air like an infant. What if I had ridden over you?”
“Then you would have been the fool, not I!” Catheryn said angrily. “I am quite obvious in this green field.” She gestured to the red dress that she was wearing, and then turned a frustrated eye on the man who had so rudely addressed her. “If you cannot see me, then the fool is not the one in the dress.”
The man snorted. “And what do you think you are doing here? I know everyone in this area, and you are not known to me. What right do you have to lounge in this field?”
Catheryn almost spluttered with irritation. “This field is not a holy site, and I may lie in it if I choose! I am the lady Catheryn of the South, a lady of England, and… and a prisoner of the FitzOsbern family.”
The man stared at her. The eyes that Catheryn had taken to be black and brooding seemed clear, like an evening sky. She could now see some blue in them where before all had been darkness.
“The FitzOsbern family?”
Catheryn nodded slowly. She had acted rashly – the same hot temper that she had tried to curb in her daughter had just been unleashed on this poor unsuspecting man, who had probably never spoken to a woman of her birth before. She cast a delicate eye over him, but could discern nothing except that he had travelled a long way. The dark beard covering his face was flecked with grey.
He, in turn, was looking back. His eyes took in the ruffled hair, swept vaguely underneath a veil; an English custom. The dress she wore was of a fine colour, but seemed slightly torn and unkempt at the edges. She was nearing the peak of womanhood, but there was something hovering around the surface of her eyes.
“You are a ward of the FitzOsbern family?”
Catheryn rolled her eyes. “How many times must I repeat myself? Yes, I am with the FitzOsbern family – although I am more prisoner than ward, more inconvenience than guest.”
The man looked at her for a moment, and then with a heavy sigh that his horse echoed, he dismounted. Turning to face her, he did something that Catheryn could never have expected: he bowed.
“My apologies, my lady Catheryn. I must blame the long ride that I have had for my incivility, but that is no reason to treat a lady in such a disgraceful manner. I trust that I have your forgiveness?”
Catheryn was so confused by this very sudden change in demeanour that she did not reply audibly, but nodded. This man was strange indeed.
“I am William,” the man continued.
Catheryn smiled wanly. “Greetings, William. Have you a longer name?”
The man returned her smile, but it was a lot warmer than her own. “William FitzOsbern. Fitz, to my friends, which I hope to count you as one of soon, my lady Catheryn.”
“William – FitzOsbern? But then you –” Catheryn said quickly, “you must be Adeliza’s husband… you are the lord here.”
“And consequently, your jailor,” Fitz smiled. “Although I must admit that I do not like the title at all, despite the fact it is an incredibly new honour.”
“New honour… you did not know?”
“My lady Adeliza must have forgotten to mention it in her letters,” Fitz shrugged. “There is often not much point in writing much down anyway; very few of them reach me.”
Catheryn stared at him, unable to take in what she was seeing. A closer inspection revealed that Fitz was not much older than she was, still in the vigour of life, and not at all as she had pictured Adeliza’s husband. She had always supposed him to be much older.
“You look confused.”
“I am sorry, my lord FitzOsbern,” Catheryn said eventually, feeling very self-conscious about the way that she was standing now that she knew she was in the presence of her new liege lord. “It is just… you are not what I had expected.”
The man laughed, and Catheryn could not help but smile in return. His laugh was open, and deep. It reminded her of Selwyn’s.
“What had you thought of me, then, dare I ask?”
Catheryn swallowed. “All I knew of you was that you were a counsellor for the King. I had thought of you as much older than you are, my lord.”
Fitz laughed again, and Catheryn nervously joined him with a chuckle. It did seem ridiculous, in a way, but there it was.
“I must apologise, my lady Catheryn, for disturbing your reverie in such a fashion,” Fitz continued. “I have been so long from here, I had almost expected it to have remained exactly as I left it. The landscape I had pictured did not include a hand growing out of the ground.”
“No doubt you think me very foolish,” Catheryn said with a smile. “But I find that being on my own, surrounded by the natural world, gives me time to think. To be myself.”
“Rather far from your prison, are you not?”
“It is probably the best prison that I could ever hope to have,” Catheryn admitted. “Your wife, Adeliza, is most welcoming, and I adore your daughters. I am intent on marrying them off to very eligible young men as soon as possible.”
“Married? Goodness, do they need to leave us so soon?”
Fitz smiled slightly, his eyes never leaving the woman in front of him. It had been strange, riding closer and closer towards his home. It had not felt as inviting as this conversation did now, and he had found himself drawing his horse closer and closer to him, slowing him down, delaying the inevitable. Now he almost wished that he had ridden harder, to meet this woman earlier. There was something about her. Something different.
“You – you did not know that your wife Adeliza has been planning this?” Catheryn looked surprised that a father could have so little interest in his children.
“Do not misunderstand me,” Fitz said hastily. “I care greatly about my children – all four of them. It is just that I have not seen Isabella or Emma… nor any of my family
for over two years. When I left, they had seen but twelve summers, and I was not ready to part with them. Adeliza rarely informs me of family matters.”
Compassion washed over Catheryn. Without really thinking about what she was doing, she walked up to Fitz, and put a comforting hand over his heart.
“Here is someone who can understand what it is to love a child from afar.”
Fitz’s eyes widened, but he did not move away. It almost felt natural, being this close to this woman.
The moment lasted for another few heartbeats, until Catheryn realised that she could feel them underneath her fingertips; Fitz’s heart, beating in his chest. The intimacy of what she had just done finally hit her, and she quickly removed her hand, taking a step backwards and blushing furiously.
Fitz took a deep breath, but it was ragged.
“I think we should return,” he said, in a voice calmer than he felt by far. “No doubt my lady Adeliza will be expecting me at any moment, and I do not wish to give her cause for concern.”
Catheryn nodded quickly, and took her place beside her captor. They walked along, saying nothing – for what words could form around the emotions that they now felt?
Chapter Fourteen
The day was hot, and Adeliza was tired of it. Summer, to her, was not for lying in fields and reaching for the sky, but for retreating indoors, trying to find a cool space. She sat stiffly in her favourite chair in the hall. The majority of the life and workings of her home occurred here, and she saw no point in remaining in her chamber, missing it.
With a loud shout and what sounded suspiciously like a curse, Isabella and Emma hurtled past her.
“Slowly, girls,” Adeliza said automatically, not even expecting her words to be heeded in the slightest. “Please be careful.”
Isabella shouted something back at her mother, but the exact words never quite reached Adeliza. The two girls continued running, and pushing open the door, almost fled into the sunshine.
Adeliza sighed, but she could not help but smile. It was always a cause of wonder to her that such girls should have come from her. They were so wild, so untameable. Everything was at its extreme for them – it was either the worst day ever, or the best that anyone had ever had. The middle ground that Adeliza was so fond of seemed to pass them by.
“My lady?”
Adeliza turned to see one of her servants hovering slightly to her left.
“Yes?”
“I bring word, my lady, from the village. It is said that our lord William has been sighted, riding here.”
Adeliza stared at the servant blankly for a moment, before she realised that she was probably expected to speak.
“William?”
“Yes, my lady.” The servant looked concerned. “He should be here at any moment.”
Adeliza recollected herself. She was meant to be ecstatically happy, she supposed. She smiled.
“In that case, I will walk out to greet him,” she said slowly. “Thank you for bringing these joyful tidings.”
The servant’s face relaxed, and Adeliza stood, shaking the creases out of her gown. In a way, she wished she was wearing one of greater beauty – but then, Fitz had never been particularly concerned with the clothes that she had worn, anyway. This dress was as good as another.
Adeliza strode to the door that had been left ajar by her two exuberant daughters, and delicately manoeuvred herself through it. The sunshine poured onto her, and Adeliza flinched. The heat always made her feel uncomfortable.
There was but one road between the village and their home, and so Adeliza saw no reason why Fitz would not have taken it. The path crossed a few of their fields, and as Adeliza looked out to them, she saw a man walking from those fields towards her. He was not alone: a woman that Adeliza immediately recognised as Catheryn was beside him, and the two of them were talking. The man laughed. Adeliza knew that laugh.
It was Fitz.
Bile immediately rose in her throat, and Adeliza’s face flushed, independently of the sun’s heat. The two companions ahead of her had not looked up and seen her – they were too invested in their own conversation to look anywhere else. Panic flooded through Adeliza’s veins. It had been two years – no, more than two years now – since she had seen her husband. She had waited patiently, always waiting for the next letter to know that he had not been killed by the English in the last month. And yet he was not riding fast to her, to her family, to the home that they had built together.
He was… there was no other word for it. He was meandering.
They were but moments away from her now. Adeliza realised with a start that she had stopped walking. She stood there, stupidly, waiting for her husband and her prisoner to reach her.
It was Fitz who noticed her first. Raising his eyes up to see exactly how far they had come, he saw a woman standing in the middle of the path, arms hanging listlessly at her sides. She wore a grey dress, that could once have been a light blue. She was his wife.
“Adeliza!” He called her name, and a slight smile crossed over her face.
“You must excuse me,” Fitz said to Catheryn hurriedly.
Catheryn barely had time to nod her understanding before he quickened his pace and lengthened his stride. It did not take him long to reach his wife, and he greeted her formally: by dropping to his knees.
“Oh, my lady wife,” Fitz said, head bowed. “It is both a blessing and an honour to see you again.”
Adeliza reached out a hand, and lifted her husband’s face so that she could look into his eyes.
“Greetings, my lord husband.”
Her voice was soft.
Fitz rose, and the couple embraced. By this time, Catheryn and the horse that had been left in her care had reached them, and Adeliza pulled apart from her husband, a blush creeping over her face.
“Catheryn,” Adeliza said stiffly. “This is my husband, William FitzOsbern.”
Catheryn saw with dismay that all of the reticence, the distance and the antipathy that Adeliza had clothed herself with when she had first arrived there as a prisoner had returned.
But then Adeliza smiled.
“It is a great day, the day of your return,” she said quietly, keeping her eyes low and respectful.
“It is indeed,” Fitz said, not quite understanding why the laughing, chattering woman he had been walking with had suddenly disappeared into the demur woman before him. But then, if his wife was anything to go by, most women were quiet. “But I am tired from my travels, and I would like to retire for a time, before the evening meal.”
Catheryn nodded. “I am going to continue my… walk in the fields.” She could not help but let a smile escape, though she dared not see if Fitz had smiled with her.
She looked at Adeliza. “Please go on ahead. I shall not be long, but I would love to enjoy the last of the light, before we lose it entirely.”
“We shall see you at the feast tonight,” Adeliza said quietly. “It will be in honour of my husband’s return.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
Adeliza watched the woman go, walking purposefully back towards the place where she knew Catheryn spent much of her time. She had almost forgotten that there was another person there until Fitz spoke.
“Shall we?”
Adeliza did not reply, but instead merely turned to face the way that she had come.
Fitz and Adeliza did not speak during their short journey back. Upon their arrival, a servant quickly came to take Fitz’s horse from him, and then the lord and the lady of the family retreated to their chamber, where they would not be disturbed.
It was not until Adeliza could be completely sure they were alone, and would not be overheard, that she let out the breath she had been holding in. She slumped onto a chair, whilst Fitz threw himself gracelessly on the bed.
Neither of them spoke for several moments.
“You look well.”
“Thank you,” Fitz replied. “You look just as beautiful as when I left.”
A
deliza smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes. “I am older. There are lines where there were no lines before.”
Fitz snorted. “Wisdom comes at a price, Adeliza, and if you want the wisdom you cannot claim that the cost is too high.”
“I claim no such thing.” Adeliza’s reply was quick, but without malice. “It is just strange. I am certain I shall grow accustomed to it.”
Fitz did not reply. He closed his eyes, and allowed himself finally to feel the ache within his bones. Every muscle cried out in pain; it had been a long and tiring journey, and would have tired out a man half his age.
“I have not told you how proud we are of you.”
“Proud?”
Adeliza nodded, but then realised that Fitz could not see her. “Yes. You have brought much honour to the FitzOsbern name, and to Normandy. Our children and I are very proud of you.”
Fitz heard the words, but they were spoken with no feeling in them. He and Adeliza had never been close; theirs had been a melding of two families, rather than a marriage of two individuals. But they had learned to live together well enough. They had, over time, created four beautiful children, and had had the joy of seeing them grow to be passionate and clever people. And yet now, after all this time, there was almost nothing that they wanted to say to one another.
Adeliza shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The sight of the man that she had married lying on their bed was slightly shocking. She was amazed at how little she had remembered of him. Despite the long twenty years that they had spent together, it had only taken twenty four months of distance to rob her of the memory of his face. There were lines around his eyes that she did not think had been there when he left – but then, she could not be sure.