‘Did you sleep well?’ asked Adela.
‘Extremely well, my lady,’ said Golde. ‘I was very tired.’
‘I never sleep when we travel,’ complained Marguerite. ‘My mind is restless in novel surroundings. Yet I refused to be left behind at home when Philippe was given this assignment by the King. A loyal wife should be at her husband’s side.’
‘Golde is a perfect example of that,’ observed Adela.
‘Of what?’ challenged Marguerite.
‘Wifely loyalty.’
‘Perhaps she is only here to ensure her husband’s fidelity.’
‘That is not true at all,’ said Golde defensively.
‘I would not blame you if it were. It is the duty of a wife to remain vigilant. Marriage vows are sometimes forgotten when a man is far away from home and the lord Ralph would not be the first husband to develop a wandering eye.’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘It was the main reason why I made the effort to come here with Philippe. So that I could keep him firmly on the marital leash.’
‘There is no need for that, surely?’ said Adela.
‘Why not?’
‘He would never go astray when he has such a beautiful wife.’
‘Is that what you think, my lady?’
‘Yes. Your husband adores you.’
‘He adored his first wife — until he met me.’
‘What happened to her?’ asked Golde.
‘It does not matter,’ said Marguerite dismissively. ‘That is all in the past now. The point is that a husband who errs once can just as readily err again. Especially if he was reared as a soldier and so accustomed to take his pleasures where he finds them.’
‘You are very cynical about men, my lady.’
‘I simply recognise them for what they are, Golde.’
‘Well, I do not recognise my own husband from your description.’
‘No more do I,’ said Adela tolerantly. ‘It is true that men will pursue their pleasures when they have the chance but those pleasures need not involve another woman. Other delights rate higher in the minds of some men. It is so with Henry, I know, and with his brother, Robert. Their greatest pleasure lies in hunting and hawking.’ She turned to Golde. ‘What of the lord Ralph?’
‘Given the choice, he would prefer to lead a quiet life at home, my lady, but he is too often called upon by the King. I think that he will be grateful when this Great Survey is finally completed and he can retire from royal service altogether.’
‘What will he do then?’ said Marguerite.
‘Enjoy domestic life.’
‘Is that all?’ said the other waspishly.
‘No, my lady,’ said Golde. ‘He will probably become more involved in the administration of his estates as well. It irks Ralph that he has to neglect his own holdings in order to deal with problems concerning the property of others.’
‘But does he have no ambition higher than that, Golde?’
‘Ambition?’
‘Only a dull man would settle for what you have described.’
‘My husband is far from dull, I assure you.’
‘And he has already achieved his major ambition in marrying you,’ said Adela with a kind smile. ‘One only has to see the two of you together to realise that.’
Marguerite clicked her tongue. ‘I thought the lord Ralph had more spirit in him. That is the impression he gives.’
‘It is not a false one,’ said Golde, stung by her criticism. ‘He has more spirit than any man I have ever met.’
‘Then why do you rein it in?’
‘That is not what Golde does, I am sure,’ said Adela, trying to soften the tone of the discussion. ‘She makes her husband happy.
What more can he ask of her?’
‘A lot, my lady.’
‘Go on,’ said Golde, caught on the raw but disguising it. ‘Please instruct us.’
‘I have no wish to cause offence,’ said Marguerite offensively,
‘but I think that you should take a closer look at yourself. Are you holding your husband back or helping him to advance? The answer, I fear, is all too apparent. You have robbed him of his sense of purpose.’
‘Surely not,’ said Adela.
‘Let her finish, my lady,’ said Golde, controlling her anger.
There was no stopping Marguerite now. ‘The lord Ralph should be looking to improve himself,’ she argued, ‘not to dwindle into obscurity on his estates. He should try to cut a figure. That is what he must have been doing at one time or the King would not have employed him in such a prestigious post. Ralph Delchard was evidently a coming man. But it seems as if marriage has taken all the bite out of him.’
It seems to have had the opposite effect on you, thought Golde but drew back from expressing the thought aloud out of deference to her hostess. Adela wanted no disharmony between her guests.
Golde therefore retained her composure. Apart from anything else, it was the best way to annoy Marguerite, who was trying to wound her pride enough to elicit an intemperate response from her. Failing to achieve it, Marguerite shed her measured politeness and became condescending.
‘What form does your married life take?’ she asked. ‘Do you divide your time between adorning the home and making ale for your husband? Do you set yourself no higher targets?’
‘This conversation is taking an unfortunate turn,’ warned Adela.
‘I apologise, my lady,’ said Marguerite with a demure bow of the head. ‘I did not mean to upset you with my comments but I believe that honesty is the only possible basis for friendship.’
‘Honesty can sometimes be hurtful.’
‘I have not been hurt,’ said Golde bravely. ‘If the lady Marguerite wishes to lecture me on wifely duties, I would be glad to learn from her. She is obviously succeeding where I have failed.’
‘You have not failed,’ insisted Adela.
‘Let me hear what she has to say.’
‘Simply this,’ said Marguerite evenly. ‘Drive your husband on to the very limit of his capabilities. Harness his ambitions and, if he has none, supply them. Wealth and position are everything in this world and he will achieve neither if you drag him back. I did not marry Philippe Trouville in order to waste my life in domesticity. He is destined for advancement and I will ensure that he receives it. With me at his back,’ she boasted with a glance at Golde, ‘his rise will be irresistible. It is only a matter of time before I am the wife of the Sheriff of Northamptonshire.
And I promise you that his progress will not end there.’
There was such a glint of naked ambition in her eyes and such a patronising note in her face that Golde could not resist a quiet rejoinder.
‘I see that you married out of infatuation, my lady.’
Marguerite glared poisonously but Adela gave a quiet smile.
The musicians struck up a fresh tune.
Chapter Four
Funerals are occasions for honesty. Gervase Bret had attended far too many of them not to realise that. Grief stripped most people of their petty deceptions and revealed their true feelings to the public gaze. When he joined the congregation in the parish church of St Mary that afternoon, Gervase knew that he would find out a great deal about the man who had died and about the family and friends whom he had left behind. There was the vague hope that the funeral might even provide him with clues which might in time help to establish beyond all reasonable doubt the guilt or innocence of the man who was charged with the crime. It still vexed Gervase that he was not allowed to speak with the prisoner and he wondered why Henry Beaumont had reacted so unfavourably to the notion. Did the constable of Warwick Castle have something to hide?
The question posed itself again when the man himself arrived at the church, accompanied by his wife, his steward, the captain of his garrison and other senior members of his household. Martin Reynard had evidently been held in high regard at the castle though Gervase detected no real sorrow in Henry’s demeanour, only the suppressed anger of a man who has had something of importance stolen from him. The lady Adela was a dignified mourner, head bowed and face clouded by sadness. The rest of the castle contingent also seemed to be genuinely distressed at the loss of a former colleague and friend.