‘No.’ She dropped her eyes under the intensity of the other woman’s scrutiny. ‘But I never wanted to be married. I always thought I could manage on my own, like a man.’
‘Even men are forced to marry sometimes, but you’re right, it’s different for us. If a woman is unmarried, she isn’t taken seriously, and if she is married, she cedes her authority to her husband. But there are exceptions, with the right kind of man, of course. Take my first husband, Heinrich. He was loving, considerate, and he treated me with respect, as an equal. I miss him dearly. A marriage like that is the goal, don’t you think?’
‘What about your second husband?’
The blue gaze flashed. ‘You’re a brave woman to ask me about Geoffrey. Our marriage isn’t quite so harmonious, as no doubt you’ve heard. Being in different countries might be the only thing that stops us from fighting each other, but our marriage was necessary from a political perspective. My father thought in those terms, you see, and in those terms, he was right. Geoffrey was the best choice politically. But I don’t think your father would have chosen a husband for you in quite the same way. I don’t think he would have bound you to any man he thought wasn’t good enough.’
‘He wanted someone who could protect me.’
‘Then he chose well, but I doubt that was all he wanted. He would have wanted you to be happy, too. Don’t forget, he knew Lothar, knew what kind of a man he is. Isn’t it possible he thought the two of you well suited?’
Juliana took a deep breath, stalling for time before she answered. Was it possible? In truth, they were surprisingly well matched. The two months they’d spent together over the winter had proven that. Up until two days ago, the time she’d spent in his company had been almost perfect. What had happened in her bedchamber had shown they were compatible in other ways, too, or so she’d thought... Not that it made any difference. He was still leaving her and going back to Normandy with Matilda, the woman who would always come first, the same woman who was talking to her now as if she had any kind of choice in the matter.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She shook her head resentfully. ‘If I have to be married, then I want a husband who can love me back.’
Matilda swept to her feet suddenly, moving towards a small table and pouring out two cups of wine.
‘You know, when I found him in Bamburg, he was just a boy, but he seemed older. He was too stern for a child, too hard, as if a part of him had turned to stone. It was a full year before he smiled again.’ She handed her one of the cups. ‘Not that he makes a habit of it now.’
‘He says you saved him.’
‘His life perhaps, though as for the rest...’ Matilda sat down next to her this time. ‘Did he ever tell you about his mother?’
‘He said his father killed her.’
‘What about his scar?’
‘That his father did it, too.’
‘Did he tell you they happened at the same time?’
‘No.’ She shook her head, aghast.
‘We only spoke about it once, on the night I found him. I asked him why he’d run away from home and he told me that his father had been hurting his mother, that he’d tried to stop him, and she’d come between them.’
‘You mean she was killed trying to protect him?’ She gasped at the horror of it.
‘That was the one and only time he ever mentioned her to me, though I think perhaps he told your father, too. Afterwards, he became like my shadow. At first I thought he was clinging to me for comfort, as some kind of replacement mother. I didn’t have the heart to send him away, but after a while, I realised it wasn’t comfort he was looking for. He was just looking, watching and waiting, as if he were bracing himself for another fight.’
‘I thought that, too!’ Juliana sat up excitedly, almost spilling her wine. ‘The first time I saw him, I had the feeling that he was waiting for something to happen. He looked dangerous.’
‘And now?’
‘Now?’ She blinked. Now she thought of it, he hadn’t looked that way for a while, not for a month at least. In their evenings together he’d seemed almost relaxed. ‘No, not any more.’
‘Then you’ve achieved more in a few weeks than I have in twenty years. I put him into guard training as a boy because I thought it might help him. Now I think it might have made things worse.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Matilda sighed. ‘I only gave him a way to use his grief, not to get past it. I don’t believe he’s ever been able to get past that day when his mother died. He’s spent his whole life blaming himself for her death, protecting me because he wasn’t able to protect her. Every battle he’s fought on my behalf has been an attempt to put that right.’
‘But he’ll never be able to...’ Juliana pressed her lips together, heart aching at the thought of a small boy blaming himself for his mother’s death, trying to put right whatever mistake he thought that he’d made. ‘That’s why he’s so protective. I thought he was in love with you.’
Matilda let out a particularly un-regal-sounding laugh. ‘He cares for me as much as he’s able. He has a strong sense of duty, I know that, but I don’t think he’s let himself feel anything since the day she died. Until he met you, that is.’
‘No.’ Juliana resisted the temptation to believe the words. ‘He doesn’t care for me. He says he’s incapable.’
‘He wants to be. There’s a difference. He’s kept his feelings buried away for so long he thinks he doesn’t have them any more, but if anything, he’s capable of feeling too much. I’ve taken him for granted, too. I thought he couldn’t change, that he’d never want to leave me, but two months ago he did something I never expected. He lied to me.’