‘And you took this step simply as a favour?’ Matilda’s tone became scathing. ‘If you’d wanted a castle, Lothar, you could simply have asked me.’
He stiffened at the suggestion. ‘I didn’t do it for the castle, my lady. I did it for William.’
‘What about his daughter? Wasn’t she in on the scheme, too? She seems to have a gift for persuading men to do what she wants. First Stephen, then you.’
‘There was no scheme.’ He felt a faint stirring of temper. ‘She was against the idea.’
‘Yet you went ahead anyway.’ Matilda’s blue gaze sharpened. ‘Do you care for the girl then?’
He baulked at the question. Did he care for her? It wasn’t something he’d let himself consciously consider, simply assuming that he wasn’t capable of such an emotion. But confronted with the question directly, he realised that he had been considering it. He’d done nothing but consider it all the way to Devizes. In which case, the answer was obvious—wasn’t it?
No! His brain rebelled against the idea. He’d married her out of respect for William, not because he cared for her. He couldn’t care for her.
‘She’s a brave woman. I admire her.’
‘That’s a different question,’ Matilda snapped. ‘I asked if you care for her, Lothar, this woman who sides with Stephen against me?’
‘I hardly know her, Empress.’
‘Then tell me who you’ve left in charge back in Haword?’
He paused for the space of a heartbeat. ‘Her.’
There was a silence so heavy it was deafening, before Matilda gave a harsh-sounding laugh. ‘Then it’s true what they say, a woman can make a fool of any man.’
‘I left my soldiers there, too.’
‘Under her command. Do you think you can trust her not to betray me again?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘And if Stephen were to lead an army back into Herefordshire, what then? What if he marched up to Haword and demanded entry? Would she let him in?’
Yes. He clenched his jaw, knowing the answer just as well as he knew what would happen if he gave it.
‘No.’ He lied.
‘She would not.’
Matilda seemed to freeze for a moment, her voice dropping to a lower register. ‘You must truly care for her.’
‘I want to keep my word to William, Empress. I want Lady Juliana to keep her home, too.’
‘Her home? If you’re married to her, then it’s yours. Don’t you want to stay here and claim it?’
He tensed, unable at that moment to frame an answer. ‘I never thought that you’d want to leave England, Empress. I didn’t think it would come to this.’
‘Yet it has.’
‘I made a vow to her, my lady.’
‘You made one to me first.’ Matilda’s tone was reproachful. ‘Will you abandon me now after I’ve just lost Robert?’
‘No.’ He ground his teeth. She was right. He had made an oath to her first. He’d made it as a boy and meant it because she’d saved him. Everything he was, he owed to her. He couldn’t abandon her now, no matter how conflicted he felt about it, no matter what his promise to William. He’d think of another way to protect Juliana—he could leave his soldiers in Haword, for a start—even if the thought of sailing away to a different country caused an ache in the place where his heart ought to be, as if it were a real beating organ and not simply a stone. Then again, it was probably for the best. His wife didn’t want to be married and he was hardly a fit husband for anyone. If he left, then Juliana could lead the life she wanted, without any man to tell her what to do...
‘I’ll do whatever you command, Empress.’
‘Good.’ Matilda gave a satisfied nod. ‘In any case, we can’t cross the Channel until the spring. You can go back and keep your word to William in the meantime.’