Child of the Phoenix

  ‘So many?’

  ‘She loved me and she had no children of her own.’ She was hugging the memory of the king’s lovemaking to her, conscious of the feel and smell of him still on her body.

  Robert, suspicious, sensed the change in her. ‘Where did you get them?’

  ‘From the king.’ She met his gaze with wide-open challenging eyes. ‘And in case you are thinking of selling any of them they are all listed and recorded.’

  ‘Part of the Scottish inheritance, no doubt,’ he said softly. His gaze sharpened. ‘Your gown is torn.’

  ‘Is it?’ Without thinking she put her hand to her throat.

  He smiled. ‘Your lover perhaps? Too eager, was he?’ He was not serious. He was taunting her as usual; even so she felt her colour rise.

  ‘You talk nonsense.’ She turned from him, but he caught her arm.

  ‘I may talk nonsense, wife, but you will take heed of what I say,’ he said quietly. ‘I think you should change your gown before supper, then perhaps you can wear some of your newly won finery.’

  ‘I will change when Nesta comes up.’ She stepped away warily.

  ‘You will change now.’ Without fully realising it, he could smell the sex on her; it excited him and he felt himself growing hard. She was beautiful and proud, not bothering to hide the disdain she felt, so her subjugation would be all the more enjoyable. He wanted her on her knees, taking him in her mouth, her fury and humiliation burning in her eyes. And here he could force her to do it – she was far away from King Henry; her threats to tell him would mean nothing. She was in his power and he could do what he liked with her.

  He turned the heavy iron key in the lock.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I

  DUNFERMLINE CASTLE June 1238

  ‘We are going to Falkland.’ Robert stood in front of his wife, hands on hips. ‘As the guests of the Earl of Fife.’

  ‘No.’ Eleyne shook her head. ‘That’s not possible; the king would not allow it.’

  ‘Because he is so fond of your company?’ His voice dropped, heavy with sarcasm. ‘Do you think I don’t know what is going on? Do you think anyone in the castle doesn’t know? You behave like a strumpet, you flaunt yourself when you’re near him – ’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Her moment of panic had vanished. In its place came the cloak of frozen dislike which cocooned her whenever her husband came near her. ‘How can you say such a thing when my aunt is scarcely cold in her grave?’

  ‘Exactly, your aunt. I am sure the king, your uncle,’ he emphasised the word carefully, ‘will give us leave to go to Falkland.’

  ‘I think you must go.’ Alexander put his hand gently to her face. ‘He is right, people are noticing. How could they not when I follow you around like an adoring puppy, fawning in your lap?’ The firelight played softly over their skin, softening and blurring the shadows over the curves and angles of their bodies as they lay in one another’s arms on a pile of furs before the fire. ‘Besides, I neglect my kingdom shamefully.’

  ‘But I can’t leave you …’

  ‘You must, just for a while.’ He raised himself on his elbow and pulled her face towards his, kissing her fiercely. ‘Do you think I want you to leave me? Do you think I can bear the thought of you in your husband’s bed when you should be in mine?’

  He ran his hands down her body, tasting, devouring her flesh as she lay quivering beneath him, her thighs parting slackly at the command of his questing fingers. It was several minutes before she could speak again.

  ‘You could send him back to England – ’

  ‘Aye,’ he smiled. ‘Maybe I’ll do that. Send him on his way and volunteer to take care of you myself.’

  ‘Then I needn’t go to Falkland?’ She arched her back, throwing back her head so her hair trailed across the furs in a gesture of abandoned sensuality. ‘I needn’t see Lord Fife again?’

  The king raised his head, his eyes narrowed. ‘You are not still afraid of Lord Fife?’

  She could not explain the strange dread she felt whenever the man came near her. ‘Not as long as I have your protection.’

  ‘Sweet Eleyne, you have my protection – and he knows it. And,’ his voice became stern, ‘while you are at Falkland you will have your husband’s as well.’

  II

  FALKLAND CASTLE June 1238

  Falkland Castle stood on the central plain of Fife in the shadow of the Lomond Hills. The great fortress of the Earls of Fife boasted a vast circular tower, a hall, a chapel and numerous other buildings within its high curtain wall.

  It was three days before the Earl of Fife managed to find Eleyne alone on her way back from the stables, where she had been looking at his horses.

  ‘So, my lady, I think you have been avoiding me.’

  ‘Lord Fife.’ Eleyne looked round swiftly. Her ladies had moved on out of earshot, chattering amongst themselves.

  ‘I have not congratulated you on your new husband.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Or should I perhaps commiserate?’

  She straightened her shoulders haughtily: ‘I don’t understand you, sir.’

  ‘Don’t you? Well, remember, if you need a man, a young man – ’ he paused for a fraction of a second, allowing the weight of innuendo to fall on the penultimate word – ‘to champion you in any way, I am at your service.’

  Her eyes sparkled with anger. ‘If I need a champion, Lord Fife, I already have one to serve me.’ She tried to keep her dislike of him from her voice.

  He bowed. ‘Then I shall bide my time. You may yet call upon me one of these days. Meanwhile, you will be pleased to know that the king will be my guest for the first hunt of the season on Midsummer’s Day. We have some fine harts here in the forest of Falkland.’

  He had not come near her but she felt his eyes moving over her body, devouring her greedily, touching her with all the intimacy and hunger of a lover. Neither of them moved then, with a bow, he left her staring after him, her heart heavy with foreboding.

  For the hunt on Midsummer’s Day, Eleyne wore her gown of silver samite and a mantle of dark green silk, her hair bound beneath a veil of finest gauze. She was to ride a milk-white palfrey, caparisoned in blue and silver, a present from Lord Fife. She had not wanted to accept it, much as she loved the horse on sight; but Robert had insisted. Ever greedy, he had calculated the horse’s value – at least forty pounds, he reckoned – and he had accepted for her.

  As she curtseyed before the king, she was conscious of a hundred pairs of eyes watching her from the crowds who mingled around them at the start of the day. Alexander touched her hand and smiled gravely. They had gathered to breakfast beneath the trees at the edge of the forest. As soon as the huntsmen had located the first stag they would be off, the king with his nobles at the head of the field. Eleyne intended to be at the front with them. As the king moved off, young Robert Bruce approached Eleyne, his grey eyes full of mischief. He bowed low. ‘Mama sends you greetings and best wishes from Lochmaben, Aunt Eleyne.’ He emphasised the title gravely. ‘She misses her visits to you at Fotheringhay.’

  Eleyne had torn her eyes from the king with difficulty, but Robert’s charm was irresistible. ‘You must stop calling me Aunt Eleyne,’ she scolded, ‘I’m younger than you, Rob!’

  ‘Rubbish! You’re a hundred years older!’ Robert bowed again, his eyes teasing. ‘Unless of course you can prove you’re not by being in at the kill.’

  John’s handsome nephew had been named by King Alexander as heir presumptive now John was dead, and was frequently to be found at court near the king. The realisation that Robert and his sons might be the future of Scotland had given Eleyne a pang of misery when she first realised the significance of Robert’s new status, but that had not changed her liking for him.

  She laughed. ‘I’ll be there, nephew,’ she said, ‘have no fear on that score!’

  A fine linen tablecloth had been spread on the ground for breakfast and, as they all followed the king’s example and sat down around it, Eleyne was co
nscious of her husband at her side. He was sitting so close that he was crushing her gown. She pulled at it, irritated, and heard the fabric rip slightly in her hand. The king was talking to his neighbour on the other side and didn’t notice; nor did Lord Fife who was standing on the far side of the cloth, frowning slightly as he checked the preparations for the hunt.

  Seeing her restlessness, Robert moved closer to Eleyne. ‘We ride together,’ he said quietly. ‘At the back of the field.’

  She was furious. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I say so. I have no desire to ride with the king.’

  ‘Well, I have. I am never at the back of the field, never.’ Again she tried to rise, but he was pinning her down. ‘You can’t make me ride at the back. Everyone would think there was something wrong with me.’

  ‘Something wrong, because you choose to stay with your husband?’ he mocked. ‘I think you will find that the ladies of the court,’ he paused significantly, ‘will be rather pleased to see you playing the obedient wife, for once.’ He reached forward for some wine.

  Eleyne waited, impotent, as one by one the members of the party rose and went to find their horses. She gazed longingly at the white palfrey which was standing with Robert’s beneath the trees at the edge of the clearing.

  When at last the king rose, he turned to her and smiled. ‘Are you accepting any wagers this time, my lady? On who will be first at the gralloch?’

  ‘My wife is going to follow at the rear of the hunt today, sire.’ Robert stood up and pulled Eleyne to her feet. He kept a firm hold on her arm.

  The king was concerned. ‘You are not ill …’

  ‘No, she is not ill, merely content to ride with me.’ Robert met the king’s eye, then he looked down. Alexander raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She stared after him in disbelief. Surely he wouldn’t leave her without another word?

  It was Lord Fife who intervened. He stepped across the cloth, pulling on his gloves; it was obvious that he had heard the exchange. He gave her a conspiratorial wink. ‘I trust you like your horse, Lady Chester?’ he said loudly. ‘He is one of the best in my stable, and I beg leave to ride with you as you test his paces. I am sure Sir Robert won’t object – a host’s privilege.’

  Eleyne pulled her arm from her husband. ‘Thank you, my lord, I accept your offer gladly.’ She shot a venomous look at Robert and stepped away from him. Any escort was better than her husband, and Lord Fife would, at least, keep up with the best.

  ‘You like him?’ As they trotted side by side up the grassy ride, Malcolm of Fife looked across at her horse. The gelding was a high-stepping, showy horse, with flowing mane and tail. He carried his head proudly, as if aware of the beauty of the woman on his back, aware too that she would be more than a match for him if he chose to show his paces. ‘I called him Tam Lin.’

  She was intrigued in spite of her antipathy to the man. ‘That’s a strange name.’

  Fife’s handsome face lit out of its usual sulky expression. ‘After the elfin knight, who rode a milk-white steed. But you must call him whatever you wish.’

  Eleyne shook her head. ‘Tam Lin it shall be.’ The huntsman’s horn rang through the trees. ‘They’ve found the stag. Now we shall see how this horse can run.’

  They had killed four times by evening and riders and horses were tired as they rode back into the courtyard of Falkland Castle. Eleyne was riding between the king and the earl, ecstatically happy; it had been a wonderful day. Lord Fife had remained at her side, but they had been close to the king for much of the time and both men had flirted with her – complimenting her, teasing her, giving her all their attention. She had not seen her husband for several hours. Dismounting, she gave Tam Lin a hug, then she turned to the king who was watching her, amused.

  ‘Do you always kiss your horses with such passion, lass?’ he asked humorously.

  ‘If I like them.’ Throwing her veil back, she stretched her arms above her head to ease her stiffness, a gesture of sensual abandonment which occasioned a few raised eyebrows among the court ladies dismounting near them. They had missed no detail of Lady Chester’s day; seen every look and smile the king and the earl had thrown her. ‘I love my beautiful Tam Lin,’ she went on. ‘Lord Fife gave him to me. Aren’t you jealous that I should get such lovely gifts?’

  ‘Indeed I am, I shall have to watch my Lord Fife, I can see.’ The earl was talking to the huntsmen and for a moment the king’s voice grew serious. ‘Can it be that you have got over your dislike of the man? Perhaps I should ask him to visit some far outpost of my kingdom while you are in Scotland.’

  ‘He could take my husband with him,’ Eleyne agreed.

  People were crowding around them; someone slapped the king on the back. The huntsmen were carrying in the carcasses; Eleyne was separated from Alexander and turned happily towards the castle. There would be feasting in the hall that night, but first she wanted to change her gown. There were tears where Robert had sat on it, and others where she had galloped through the trees, veil and skirts flying, in pursuit of the king. She had been beside him at the first kill.

  Nesta was waiting for her in the bedchamber, a jug of hot, scented water standing on a trivet over the fire ready for her to wash. To her relief, there was no sign of Robert. She stepped out of the ruined gown as Nesta poured the water into a bowl.

  ‘Will you be able to mend it?’ As she bathed her face and neck, she saw the maid gather up the gown and fold it over her arm.

  ‘I expect so, my lady, I’ve never failed you yet. Your scarlet is waiting for you –’ Nesta broke off as the door opened and Robert walked in. He surveyed the scene as Eleyne straightened, the warm water running down her throat and arms, soaking into the low-necked shift, which was all she wore.

  ‘Out.’ He gestured at Nesta with a jerk of his head. Nesta curtseyed and scuttled past him, leaving them alone.

  ‘You disobeyed me and made me look a fool before the whole court,’ he said slowly.

  Eleyne eyed him defiantly, still standing over the basin, her damp hair curling over her shoulders. ‘If you looked a fool, it was because you could not keep up,’ she said coldly. ‘If you had been at the front, you would have been at my side.’

  He smiled. ‘Next time I shall ride the grey, then perhaps I shall be well enough mounted. And if I don’t like the animal, I shall have it knocked on the head.’ Her face went white. ‘Oh, I heard how you flung your arms around the horse’s neck. The whole court makes sport of your love of the creature.’ He sat down astride the chair which stood by the table, his arms folded over the high back.

  ‘Why do you wash in your shift?’ He changed the subject abruptly. ‘Such modesty seems odd in such a forward woman. Take it off.’

  ‘We are expected at the high table – ’

  ‘And we will be there. We don’t want to disappoint our host or his king, do we?’

  She looked at him warily. ‘Then I should dress …’

  ‘Soon. First, take off your shift. Think of the horse, Eleyne, it would be sad, wouldn’t it, to kill such a beautiful animal?’

  She knew what he would do. He would humiliate and degrade her, then he would beat her. Then with exaggerated politeness, he would help her to dress. It had happened too often. She knew it excited him to think he was her master, but not this time. She stepped back from the basin of cooling water and reached for the towel which Nesta had dropped on the bed.

  ‘If you touch that horse, I shall tell the king what you do to me,’ she said desperately, ‘and he will have you killed. Don’t think he hasn’t thought of it already –’ She saw his face blanch. ‘You are in his way. It’s only my pleading which has spared you so far.’ Her fear for the horse had given her strength. She stepped towards him and was pleased to see him flinch. ‘If anything happens to Tam Lin, anything at all, if he so much as gets a stone in his hoof, I shall know who to blame.’

  ‘The king wouldn’t dare to harm me, an envoy from England – ’

  ‘An envoy? I was Uncle Henry’
s messenger, not you! You are no envoy.’

  His eyes narrowed triumphantly. ‘That is where you are wrong: I carried the letters from King Henry, I have the official safe conducts to travel north, and I serve as one of Henry’s officials.’ He smiled at the expression on her face. ‘You didn’t know that, did you? And if I am killed by the King of Scots, or anyone else in Scotland, Henry will want to know why. And your Alexander’s precious peace will not be worth a farthing bannock! No, King Alexander can’t touch me, Eleyne. If he could he would have done it already.’ He folded his arms. ‘And you know it, sweetheart, or you would have crawled to him before now with your list of complaints. Do you want to be responsible for a war between England and Scotland? Do you want the whole world to know that the King of Scots commits incest with his niece? Do you know the penalty for incest, wife, if the church finds out?’

  Eleyne’s mouth was dry, her defiance had crumbled into ashes. ‘I suggest that we get ready for the feast,’ she said tight-lipped, ‘this conversation gets us nowhere.’

  ‘It gets you nowhere.’ He pushed himself from the chair and before she could turn around his hands grasped her wrists. She fought frantically, but as always he was much the stronger. He bound her hands behind her back with her own girdle and forced her to her knees. Then he undressed. As always, her mute fury and the fear in her eyes excited him. By the time he was ready for her he was enormous.

  Her bruises, as he had promised, were all hidden as she walked at his side into the great hall and took her place at the king’s side. Her face was pale, but she managed a smile. On her right, Robert was wearing a gown of stiffly embroidered black silk. He was looking immensely pleased with himself as he raised his first goblet of wine. Before the meal was half over he lay sprawled across the table, his head amongst the dishes.

  The king glanced past her and raised an eyebrow. ‘Your husband seems to have caroused too much. Shall I have him taken to your chamber?’