A short time later they were back in the saddle and riding toward Lincoln. As they entered the Bail, Richard glanced toward the market stalls and saw Hugh in conversation with one of the merchants.
He frowned.
“What is the matter?” Elizabeth asked. She turned her head and saw Hugh as well. “Are you angry with Lord Hugh?”
Richard’s eyes swung back to her curious face and his own expression relaxed. He smiled. “I must confess that of late Hugh has been getting on my nerves. We were never meant to share a house, we two.”
“He doesn’t like me,” Elizabeth said. She sounded amazed, as if such a thing had never happened to her before.
“I don’t think Hugh likes anyone,” Richard responded sadly. “It might sound like a foolish thing to say about someone who is the heir to an earldom, but I feel sorry for him. He is a bitter man.”
“Sir Richard!” One of the knights of the castle guard was running toward them from the direction of the Minster. “The sheriff is looking for you, sir,” he said when he arrived beside Richard’s big black horse.
“Thank you, Walter,” Richard returned pleasantly. “Is my father at the Minster?”
“Nay, my lord. He is at the castle.”
“I will seek him out directly, then.” He turned back to his riding companion. “Shall we continue on, Lady Elizabeth?”
“By all means, Sir Richard,” she replied demurely.
The guard stood his ground and watched admiringly as the beautiful woman and the tall, splendid knight made their way toward the Inner bail.
18
On Sunday evening Bernard’s fever dropped, and by Monday his cough had loosened, his chest was less painful, and his fever was almost gone. When Hugh came into the sickroom on Monday morning and wanted to take Cristen to the fair for a few hours, Mabel insisted that she go.
“I will remain with Bernard, my lady,” the girl said earnestly. “Go with Lord Hugh. You need to get outdoors for a while.”
“But what about you, Mabel?” Cristen said. “Don’t you want to see the fair?”
Mabel’s round kittenish face took on an expression that was almost comically prim. “Thomas said he would escort me to the fair later this afternoon, my lady. I will go when you get back.”
Eventually Cristen allowed herself to be persuaded, and she and Hugh exited the dark, damp castle into one of the fairest, warmest days Lincoln had seen in quite some while.
“Saint Agatha is providing good weather, I see,” Cristen commented. She tipped her face up toward the sky as she and Hugh crossed the courtyard of the keep to the stairs that would take them to the Inner bail.
Hugh smiled down at her. “You look like a flower drinking up the sunshine.”
She laughed.
“I have some news that will make the day seem even finer,” he said. “Guy and his household left Lincoln early this morning. We won’t have to worry about running into his friendly face in town today.”
They reached the top of the steep stone steps and began to descend them. As soon as they were once more on level ground, she turned to Hugh with a faint frown between her delicate brows. “Do you know where Guy has gone?”
Hugh gave her an ironic look. “He did not leave me a message, but I think I can make a good guess. The sheriff received word late yesterday that the king’s Cornish campaign was successful. Apparently, Stephen retook all of the castles that the rebels were holding. He put the Earl of Richmond in charge of them, and should be returning north himself very shortly.”
Two knights walked passed them, and Hugh nodded in return to their greeting.
“What of Father?” Cristen asked tensely.
“He’s fine,” Hugh assured her, “and so apparently are all the Somerford muster. There were no reported deaths or serious injuries.”
She shut her eyes. “Thank God.”
They walked for a few more steps, then she said, “Do you think Guy has gone to meet the king?”
“Aye,” Hugh said. “He still wants the marriage with Elizabeth de Beauté for me, and he wants the earldom of Lincoln along with it.”
As they neared the stockade, Hugh looked for Rufus. The white stallion had been turned out in the stockade with several other horses and was now stretched out on his side in the sun, his legs sticking straight out in front of him. He was so deeply asleep that Hugh walked a little closer to the stockade fence to make certain he was breathing. Then he turned back to Cristen.
“Guy provided de Leon knights and men at arms for Stephen’s army,” he said. “You can be certain that he will remind the king of the value of his loyalty.”
Two grooms carrying brimming buckets of water passed them on their way to the stockade. On such a warm day, the horses would be drinking more than usual.
Hugh went on, “I don’t know if Guy will tell the king about your visit to Lincoln, but you can be certain that he will tell your father.”
Silently Cristen nodded.
Hugh put a hand on the red wool of her sleeve to halt her and turn her to face him. “We can’t wait much longer, Cristen,” he said intensely. “Once your father hears about us, he will come directly to Lincoln to take you home.”
“You can’t leave Bernard to hang,” she protested.
“If I have to, I’ll break him out of the castle and hide him until I can find out who the real murderer is.”
Cristen searched his face to see if he meant what he had said.
He did.
She bit her lip and looked worried.
“Damn Guy,” Hugh said with suddenly explosive anger. “I should be the earl, not he. He has no legitimate authority over me. I should be able to marry whomever I choose to marry!”
Cristen glanced around and saw that several of the foot soldiers were looking at them curiously. She put her hand on his arm and walked him forward.
“I have been thinking, Hugh.” She gave a shadowy smile. “One has a lot of time to think when one is watching by a sickbed.”
He nodded tensely.
“I thought, what if you went to Stephen and promised him your support if he would allow you to marry me?”
Hugh looked puzzled. “Guy has promised Stephen his support in payment for the de Beauté marriage,” he pointed out. “Why should my offer be more attractive to the king than Guy’s? He has the power. He is the earl, not me.”
“Stephen must know that Guy’s allegiance is only good for as long as it is useful to Guy,” Cristen returned. “You are not like that. Once you swear an oath of loyalty, you will not break it.”
Hugh slowly shook his head. “You may know that, Cristen, because you know me. But the king does not know me like you do.”
“He knows whose son you are,” Cristen said.
Hugh’s face went very still.
They had almost reached the east gate, where the knights on duty watched them as they approached.
Cristen said, “Your father was the greatest crusader of his time. Considering the conduct of his own father, it is a fact that Stephen is not likely to forget.”
“When I proposed going to Robert of Gloucester and making him this very offer, you opposed it!” Hugh flared. “Why send me to Stephen?”
They silenced their conversation while they passed through the east gate, not resuming it until they were outside the hearing of the knights.
Then Cristen said, “I am not sending you to Stephen. I am simply asking you to think about it.”
“Why Stephen and not Gloucester?” Hugh repeated.
“The answer to that is very simple,” Cristen returned. “I do not think that Gloucester can win this war.”
Hugh said nothing.
Cristen went on, “You are right when you say that Stephen is not the most clever of kings. But you must admit that he is facing an almost impossible situation, Hugh. Not only is he fighting Matilda and Gloucester here in England, but he is fighting Matilda’s husband, Geoffrey Plantagenet, in Normandy. Then there are the Scots, who are just biding their time before they strike again. Add to all this the fact that he cannot count on the loyalty of most of his nobles.”