Gods Concubine (48 page)

His grin reappeared. “If he agrees, then I am pleased that you
did
mention it. When, Caela? When?”

“The winter solstice, you said.”

He nodded. “Can you manage an escape from…?” He nodded to Edward.

“Yes. Silvius—”

“No more words,” he said, and, leaning across the gap between them, placed his mouth on hers, gently, not demanding.

She hesitated, but only an instant, then she leaned forward into him, giving him her mouth. They kissed, passionately, then Silvius managed to pull back, laughing softly, breathlessly.

“I must stop, for I cannot keep this sorcery intact much longer, Caela. Oh gods, I am sorry.” He rose, shifting his chair back to its original position as Caela rearranged her veil.

“The solstice,” he said. “Meet me in your stone hall. Now, be still, and bend your head back to prayer.”

She did, and in the next instant Silvius was gone, and all awakened about her.

Caela paid no attention to the rest of the service, imagining only what it might be like to have Silvius take her virginity.

Eventually, without consciously realising the transition, Caela’s thoughts turned entirely to Brutus, and she remembered that night she had offered herself to him under the stars on the way to the Veiled Hills, and the passion with which they’d made love…almost as if there had been love between them.

Meanwhile, at Thorney Isle, a barge containing the Earl of Wessex drew softly to Westminster’s wharf.

N
INE

H
arold strode into the bedchamber he shared with his wife, tore the covers from Swanne’s body and, before she could move or speak, grabbed her hair and hauled her from their bed.

Swanne finally found her voice as she half-tumbled naked to the floor. “What…? Harold! No!
No!
”

Now he had her by an arm, and had dragged Swanne to her feet. With his free hand he dealt her a stinging blow to her cheek, and then another, and yet one more, before she had time to collect herself.

“That first was for the damage done to me with your treachery,” he snarled. “The second was for the damage you have done to England. And the third, you black-hearted witch, was for standing by and laughing as my brother sought to murder me. Did you report
that
to William?
Answer me!
”

Swanne was stunned, not only by the suddenness and savagery of Harold’s attack, but by his knowledge.

How dare he lay a hand to her!

How did he know?

“I haven’t…I don’t…” she stumbled, unable for the moment to string a coherent sentence together.

“William told me how much you delight in passing him your little titbits of information,” Harold said, and pushed Swanne back so that she sprawled across the bed. “Did he tell you also how he shares them with Matilda?”

“No!”
William?

Shared with Matilda? No!

Swanne edged back in the bed, trying to put as much distance between her and Harold as possible.

“I have been to Normandy, Swanne. Did not William think to tell you?”

“What were you doing there?” Swanne had reached the far edge of the bed, and now carefully rose to her feet. She put one hand to her reddened cheek, but made no attempt to otherwise cover her nakedness.

“Discussing your whoring ways with William.”

“No,” she said, looking at him with all the contempt she could muster. “William would not have told you.”

Harold’s face twisted; Swanne did not even attempt to deny it. “We have reached an agreement, William and I,” he said, “and you form no part of it.”

“Liar!” she spat.

“I renounce our marriage, Swanne. You—”

“No!”

“What? You fear to lose me?
You?
Who laughed as Tostig knifed me.”

She said nothing, but just stood there, staring at Harold, her breasts rising and falling with the rapidity of her breathing.

“You have your estates and manors that your father and uncles bequeathed you. You shall lack for nothing.”

“You
cannot
do this!”

“Every noble, every court in this country will support me!” he snarled, striding about the bed and grabbing Swanne’s hand away from her cheek. “No man stands for a wife who betrays him in this manner. I shall have a wife, but she will be a true wife, Swanne. Not what you have given me!”

“The Church will not let you put me—”

“The Church did not ratify our marriage. It does not recognise it. We were Danelaw wed, Swanne. That was your insistence, not mine. Well, now you reap the harvest of your insistence, your all-consuming desire for independence. By God, Swanne, had you thought that once William was in a position to fight for the throne you could renounce
me
?”

Swanne tried to wrench her arm away from Harold’s grasp, but he would not let it go.

“I am pregnant with your child,” she said, her panic tipping her into the lie.
William had shared their communications with Matilda?
“You cannot set me to one side.”

“Truly?” Harold raised his eyebrows, his eyes running slowly up and down her figure. “Your slenderness belies
that
lie, my dear.”

“You lay with me before…before you left for your sly voyage to William. Why can’t I be with child?”

“Because I know you too well. Because you would not want to be thick with my child when you think you might have William instead! Be gone from my life, Swanne. I have had enough of you.”

“
You cannot put me aside!
”

“Ah, you do not fear losing me, do you? You fear losing your place within this court, because without me as your husband you will be forced to retire to one of your country estates. And what can you betray to William there? The state of the apple harvest? How many ewes have lambed this spring? You’ll be as useless to him as you are now to me.”

Swanne finally managed to free her arm. “I
will be queen of this land beside William.”

“I have seen how William regards Matilda, his wife. I suspect you will be queen of nothing but the peasant rabble who work your fields.”

She spat at him, but Harold could see the fear in her eyes, and he smiled coldly.

“Clothe yourself, Swanne. I have already left instructions with the servants that you will be removing to the country by this afternoon.”

And with that Harold turned and left the chamber.

Swanne stared after him for long moments, her eyes wild, her expression a mixture of fear and shock and disbelief. She could not afford to be banished to the countryside!

Gods…
gods!
How had Harold known? William could not have betrayed her to Harold.

He could not.

Could he?

T
EN

H
arold went straight from his bedchamber to that of Caela, hoping she had returned from St Paul’s by now.

He burst into Caela’s chamber almost as abruptly as he had into his own to find Judith and two other ladies removing Caela’s outer clothing.

“Harold!” Caela spun about to face him, waving a dismissal to her ladies at the same time.

“Caela, thank God you have returned from your worship.” Harold walked across to her as the women left the chamber and, placing his hands on her shoulders, bent to kiss her briefly and dispassionately on the mouth. “You are well?”

“Aye, I am. But, Harold…ah, thank God to see
you
well.”

Harold managed a smile and, checking to see that all of Caela’s attending ladies had left the room, said, “William did not murder me, sister. He is not a man of Tostig’s treachery.”

She let out a long breath of sheer relief, and placed the palm of her hand against his cheek. “What…ah, Harold,
what happened
?”

He took her by the hand and led her back to the bed so they could both sit down. As he talked, relating to her all that he’d seen and heard and talked of with William, he kept her hand tight in his own.

“He is a good man,” Harold finished. “I cannot find it in my heart to hate him.” He let out a short, dry laugh. “Even to distrust him. And what a thing that is to say about a man who makes no attempt to hide his own ambition for the English throne.”

“You liked him,” Caela said, her eyes searching Harold’s face.

“Aye, that I did. In a strange manner, we have become friends, even though our ambitions make us sworn enemies. He is an honourable man, Caela.”

She smiled, and Harold thought he’d never seen her look lovelier. “How he has changed,” she said. “I am glad. I am so glad.”

Harold frowned. “‘How he has changed’? But you have never met him.”

Caela looked away, her face closing over. “I have only heard rumours, brother.”

And William spoke of Caela in a manner that made me wonder if ever he had met
her, Harold thought. He lifted a hand, and gently turned Caela’s face back to meet his.

“Is Swanne the
only
one who has been secretly communicating with William?” he said. “William was as interested in you as you have been in him. Why all this interest, Caela?”

“I have had no communication with William,” she said, her gaze unflinching, and he believed her.

“And I am interested in William for the same reason you are, Harold. He seeks the English throne.”

“You do not need to fear him, Caela. Not personally. He has sworn to me that if…if fate favours him in this wrestle for England, then he will do you no harm, nor harm to any of my children.”

“He said that?” Caela smiled, although it was tinged with sadness. “I had thought he might be vindictive…hard. It is what I had…heard of him.”

“Vicious rumour only. William is an honourable man.”

“Ah, Harold, I hope his promises never have to be kept.”

There was a silence, and Caela became uncomfortable under Harold’s regard. “Harold, tell me, what manner of man
is
William? Come now, hold nothing back. Tell me of William and Matilda.”

He laughed softly. “William is a tall man, and strong in build. And
handsome
, with black, dancing eyes and a magnetism about him that surely draws women to him like bees to the honey pot. Mayhap you will think he will be a prettier face to have about this court than mine.”

“
Never.
”

“Aye, well…I think he looks at no one but Matilda. I do not think even Swanne can draw him away from her.”

“Do you think that William knows Swanne for what she is, and thus leans to Matilda?”

“William respects and trusts and treasures his wife. I think he knows it is something he could not achieve with Swanne.”

Again Caela breathed out as if in deep relief, and Harold looked carefully at her. “Caela, will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If by wicked fate William defeats me to take the throne, will you support him?”

“
How can you ask that of me?
”

“If I am defeated I do not want to think that England will tear itself apart trying to resist William. You will be the dowager queen, people will listen to you—”

“Listen to
me
? God’s Concubine? The always-dismissed wife of Edward? Harold, I do not think that—”

“You are far more than that, Caela. Do you think I cannot see? That I do not watch the way you move, and what you say, and watch how other people respond to you? In the past weeks…I don’t know…in the past weeks you have somehow come into your true self. People have always listened to you, and respected you, whatever Edward has said and done. Now, I think there might be something even more than ‘respect’ behind their regard.” He sighed, dropped his eyes, and stroked her hand where it rested in his.

“Caela, please. Do this for me if you do nothing else. If William takes the throne over my dead body, then support him. The witan will take what you say and consider it. They will not dismiss you. The people will not dismiss you, nor what you say. Caela, please, I ask you this for the sake of the land—”

Something flitted across her face, an expression Harold could not read, and her hands jumped slightly where they clasped his.

“—for
England
, and everything that it is. Will you do this for me? Will you support William if…if it comes to pass?”

“Oh, Harold…” her voice broke. “Do not speak of your death!”

“
Promise me this!
”

She blinked away her tears, then nodded. “For the land, I promise, Harold.”

“Thank you.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, but this time did not immediately draw away. Their mouths locked, and Harold’s free hand slipped behind Caela’s head and pressed her the more firmly into him.

She moaned softly, and probably with desire rather than distress, but it was enough to make Harold draw back.

“Oh God,” he breathed. “Caela, I am sorry.”

“No!
Never
say that. Be sorry for the fact we cannot be together, but not for the fact that you love me.”

He kissed her again, softly, and then shifted his mouth to her ear. “Cruel fate,” he whispered.

“Crueller than you realise,” she said.

For a long moment they sat there, their faces close, feeling the play of the other’s breath over their faces, then Harold sighed, and sat back.

“I have heard news of Tostig this morning,” he said softly.

“I do not know if I want to hear of it.”

“He has gone to Hardrada.”

She was silent.

“He will not defeat me. I promise you this. But William…well, William I respect. That’s why I asked you to pledge as you did.”

“What of Swanne?” Caela said. “Have you seen her since you returned?”

“Ah,
Swanne
! I think William distrusts her as much as I do, Caela.”

“Really?”

“And, yes, I have finally had done with her. I visited our chamber before coming here. I severed the ties between us. She is gone, and you, my dear,” he hesitated an instant, “must find me a new wife, someone suitable to be a queen.”