‘It’s a pretty pattern.’ He looked relieved. ‘Wouldn’t you rather be outside with a sword?’
‘It’s actually not as dull as I expected. Maud’s helping me.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘I thought you didn’t like me fighting anyway?’
‘As long as it’s not with me.’ He stretched out in the chair opposite. ‘Your father was right, a woman ought to be able to defend herself.’
‘I have you for that now, don’t I?’ She gave him a teasing look.
‘You do. For now.’
She turned her gaze quickly back to the tapestry. Until the spring, he meant, when he had to go back to the Empress. Which also meant soon. The thought caused a pang in her chest, but at least he wouldn’t be gone for ever. A lot of men spent their springs and summers away from their wives and families at court or on campaign, only returning home in the winter. Their marria
ge wouldn’t be so unusual in that regard.
‘I’m sure the Empress will be able to spare you from time to time.’
She peered sideways at him, though the mention of Matilda seemed to make his expression cloud even further. Was he pining for her? she wondered. He didn’t seem to be. As far as she knew, he hadn’t sent or received any messages since his return from Devizes. He’d actually been in a surprisingly good mood for the past two months. During the days he’d ridden, trained his men and helped out with any tasks that needed doing around the castle. She’d found him carrying barrels to the taproom, grooming horses in the stables, even shaping horseshoes in the smithy. As promised, he’d left the day-to-day running of the castle to her, only offering help or advice when she asked for it—something she found herself doing more and more. It was surprisingly pleasant to have someone to share her ideas with, so much so that the evenings had become her favourite part of the day. They spent that time together, playing chess or backgammon, or just talking, always together, though also always amidst other people in the hall. They were rarely alone together. He’d slept in her father’s old chamber ever since their wedding night and she was always the first to retire to bed. As much as he seemed to enjoy her company, he seemed equally determined never to escort her upstairs or share a room with her. On one occasion, she’d tried staying up late to see if she could make him go to bed first, but he’d stayed in his chair until she’d been unable to stifle her yawns any longer. Then she’d listened at her door when she’d finally gone back to her room, hearing his footsteps go past just a few minutes later.
That was the one awkward part of their truce. Obviously the marriage debt scared him even more than it had her, though in that case she wondered why he’d told her about her rights in the first place. She’d absolutely no intention of throwing herself at any man who didn’t want her, but his avoidance only added insult to injury, as if he found her so unattractive that he preferred to stay in a crowded hall rather than run any risk of it. Of course, he was sitting in her chamber now, she thought bitterly, though that was probably only because it was the middle of the afternoon. He probably thought he was safe.
‘There’s something I need to tell you.’ His voice sounded alarmingly serious all of a sudden. ‘About Matilda.’
She stabbed her needle into her finger with a jolt. She’d dreaded the thought of this conversation, had been afraid it was coming, though she’d hoped to avoid it. He was about to tell her that he was in love with Matilda. She stifled an exclamation. Wasn’t it bad enough that she knew it already? She didn’t want to suffer the indignity of hearing her husband say it out loud.
‘Can’t it wait?’ She sucked her finger to staunch the flow of blood. ‘Maud’s gone for some more thread, but she’ll be back any moment.’
‘No.’ He reached behind him, pushing the door shut with an ominous thud. ‘It’s important. I should have told you before, but... I thought perhaps the circumstances might change.’
Circumstances? Her stomach contracted. What did he mean by circumstances? If he’d thought their marriage might affect his feelings for Matilda, then clearly he was about to tell her otherwise...
‘What I’m about to tell you goes no further than this chamber.’
She held back a snort. Of course it wouldn’t go any further! Did he really think she’d want to trumpet the fact of her husband being in love with another woman?
‘Very well.’ She lifted her chin up stiffly. If she really couldn’t stop him, then she could at least listen with dignity.
‘Matilda’s going back to Normandy.’
‘What?’
‘You remember I told you about her hopes for a treaty?’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘Well, she’s handing the fight over to her son. Henry FitzEmpress will take her place when she leaves.’
‘But... She’s leaving?’ She felt utterly astounded. That Matilda, the woman who’d dubbed herself Lady of the English, might abandon the country she’d fought over for so long was well-nigh unthinkable...
‘It won’t be easy for her.’ He seemed to be watching her intently.
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘For me either, but she needs me now more than ever. I don’t have a choice, Juliana.’
She frowned, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. She’d been too shocked by his first statement to pay much attention to the rest, but now he seemed to be trying to defend himself, to forestall some kind of argument.
‘What don’t you have a choice about?’
‘About going back to Normandy with her.’
‘Normandy?’ She was on her feet, her needle clattering to the floor, before she even knew she intended to stand up.
‘Yes.’ He stood up, too. ‘She wants me to go with her.’