The sky was grey. Again.
Constance stood by the solar window and wondered if it was ever going to be anything but. She wouldn’t have minded so much if there had been any word from Matthew, but there had been nothing for over a week and the fact cast an even greater pallor over the scene. The New Year celebrations had come and gone and despite Tomas’s best efforts to distract her, she’d spent most of her time brooding about what could be happening in London. Hard as she tried to banish her fears, it was impossible. What if the meeting with the King had gone wrong? What if Matthew was already on trial as a traitor? What if he never came home?
The rest of the time, she’d spent regretting their last conversation. She’d agreed to do as Matthew wanted and denounce him if necessary, but she hadn’t admitted how she felt about him, still too angry to utter the words. Yet something he’d said had preoccupied her mind ever since, that without honour he was no better than his father or John. It was true. Even if he had behaved like a tyrant of sorts, he’d done so for honourable motives, either to protect her or because he’d been bound by his word. Much as she hated to admit it, he was right about the charter, too. It was more important than either of them. Or Lacelby for that matter. He was doing it for the future of the whole country. The least she could have done was tell him she loved him in return.
A wave of nausea overtook her and she pressed a hand to her stomach, willing the feeling to subside. It had been happening all week and with her courses overdue, she could no longer doubt the reason, though it made her feel elated and terrified and even more guilty all at the same time. None of which did anything to make her feel calmer again.
She sat down on the window seat and put her head in her hands, trying to get her emotions back under control. Anxiety would do no good for either her or the baby. Matthew would come back because he had to. He’d come back and then she could berate him again for leaving her and then tell him she loved him. She just had to be patient and wait. And not move, since moving only made her feel ten times worse.
She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there, only she gradually became aware of loud voices below. One loud voice, at any rate. Another messenger? The view from the solar window was towards the sea rather than the road so she hadn’t seen anyone approach, which meant there was a chance... She stood up and hurried as quickly as she dared across the room, then jumped back again as the door burst open.
‘Daughter!’ Sir Ralph Wintour’s burly frame completely filled the doorway. ‘I trust I find you in good health?’
‘Sir Ralph...’
It took all of her willpower not to place her hands over her stomach. Some instinct told her to protect her baby, but the gesture would have been too obvious and her father-in-law was the last person she wanted to share her news with. Even if he was, strictly speaking, the grandfather, she had the discomforting feeling that he’d use it against her somehow.
‘I’m very well, thank you,’ she answered as calmly as possible, inclining her head, though without curtsying. She was afraid she might topple over if she tried. ‘To what do I owe this visit?’
‘I wanted to make sure you were all right.’ Sir Ralph’s expression was smug. ‘Here on your own without your husband to comfort you.’
‘How thoughtful.’ She gritted her teeth. Apparently Matthew was right and his father really did have spies everywhere.
‘My lady?’ Her steward’s anxious face peered around the side of the baron’s chest.
‘It’s all right, Tomas.’ She managed to summon a half-smile. ‘I was just saying that we’re perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves here at Lacelby. I certainly don’t require any comforting, thank you, Sir Ralph.’
‘Indeed?’ Her father-in-law advanced a few steps towards her. ‘Well then, I have to say you’re dealing with it very well, given the circumstances.’
She felt a flutter of panic. ‘What circumstances would those be?’
‘Why, haven’t you heard?’ Smugness turned to feigned innocence. ‘London’s a battlefield. The barons and their supporters are all wanted men. The ones who aren’t prisoners already, that is.’
‘What?’ She gripped the back of a chair for support as her knees started to shake. ‘But the King said that he’d speak with them, that he’d negotiate!’
‘John says a lot of things when he needs to, but a king doesn’t bargain with traitors.’
‘I don’t believe you. The King has no money and no supporters.’
‘Is that what Matthew told you? No doubt he was trying to shelter you from the truth, my dear.’
‘No!’ She shook her head, refusing to believe it, her palms damp with sweat and her heart clamouring with panic. ‘He told me that was the truth.’
‘Well then, it seems he misjudged the situation. Rather badly, I’m afraid.’
‘Have you heard anything from him?’
‘If I had, then I’d be obliged to inform the King. I don’t consort with traitors.’
‘He’s your son!’
‘And a traitor. Which is why I need to take you back to Wintercott. For your own protection, naturally.’
‘Protection?’ She swallowed nervously as bile rose in her throat. ‘Protection from what?’
‘Why, from Matthew, of course. You wouldn’t want to become involved in all this, would you? If he comes to you, seeking help...’
‘Then I’ll send him away again.’
‘Come now, my dear.’ Sir Ralph’s expression was a combination of pity and mockery. ‘I think we both know you wouldn’t do that.’
‘I’m still not leaving.’ Constance pushed herself away from the chair, clenching her fists angrily. It was bad enough that Matthew thought he could make every decision for her, but she’d be damned before she let another man tell her what to do, especially his father! ‘This is my home.’
‘But, alas, it’s not your choice.’
‘I refuse to...’ She gasped, pressing her lips together as a fresh wave of nausea swept over her. Even Sir Ralph’s face was starting to swim before her eyes.
‘You refuse what?’ He looked at her askance, as if suspecting some kind of trick.
‘I refuse to come with you.’ She pulled her shoulders back, trying to sound forceful and resist the almost overpowering urge to vomit. ‘You have no right to take me anywhere!’
‘You’re a Wintour, which places you under my authority.’
‘My people here won’t allow it.’
‘Your people will do as I tell them or suffer the consequences.’ His expression was implacable as he came to stand right in front of her. ‘Now you’ll come willingly or by force, but you will come. Which will it be?’
Constance sank down into the chair, resenting her own weakness, but the dizzy feeling was getting worse. If she stayed on her feet a moment longer, then she was afraid she would faint. How could she ask others to fight for her when she could barely stand up herself?
‘I’ll come.’ Her tongue felt thick.
‘Good.’ Sir Ralph’s expression suggested he hadn’t doubted it for a second. ‘Tell your maids they have an hour to pack your things. Then we’re leaving.’
‘Is it true?’ Matthew marched into the hall where Jerrard was sitting alone at a table, staring into a tankard of ale.
‘It’s true.’ Jerrard looked up and sighed. ‘If this were chess, I’d say it’s a stalemate. John has agreed to a safe conduct until Low Sunday. Then we’ll all meet again in Northampton.’
‘That’s more than three months away!’ Matthew swung his leg over the bench opposite. ‘What about the charter?’
‘He wants us all to swear an oath against the charter.’
‘That’s his idea of a compromise?’
‘Apparently. He knows we won’t agree, but he’s stalling. He’s already sent envoys to the Pope asking for support.’ Jerrard sighed again, heavier this time. ‘This is a mess. No one thought it would be easy, but we need the charter, now more than ever. If we fail, John’s behaviour will be even worse.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Are you all right?’ Jerrard regarded him curiously. ‘You haven’t been yourself since you arrived in London. You seem restless.’
‘I am.’ Matthew reached for his friend’s ale and took a long draught. ‘I sent a messenger to Constance as soon as I arrived, but there’s been no reply. I’m worried about her.’
‘Why? There hasn’t been any fighting.’
‘I know. It’s just a feeling.’
‘Surely your father will take care of her if she needs help?’
‘He’s the one I’m worried about. There was an...incident while we were staying at Wintercott.’ He pushed a hand through his hair as Jerrard lifted an eyebrow. ‘I lost my temper and grabbed him by the throat. Longer than I should have.’
‘Ah. And you’re worried he wants revenge?’
‘I’m not sure what I’m worried about, I just can’t help thinking I shouldn’t have left. She asked me not to, but I came anyway.’
‘But you told her about the charter. Surely she knows what’s at stake?’
‘Yes, but...’ He drew his brows together. But what? But he’d barely been able to concentrate even during their meeting with the King? That he’d had to resist the urge to ride back to Lacelby every single day? That as much as he still wanted the charter, his single-minded clarity of purpose was utterly gone?
‘Matthew?’ Jerrard gave him a shrewd look.
‘She said I never asked her what she thought or wanted. She accused me of acting like my father, like a tyrant.’ He grimaced. ‘She had a point. I don’t want to turn into him.’
‘You know I met your father once.’
‘You did?’ Matthew’s head jerked up. ‘You never told me that.’
‘I thought it might confuse things. He seemed like a man who was full of resentment.’
‘He is. At the whole world, I think.’
‘So were you the first time we met. I could almost see the rage burning inside you.’
‘I remember. I think it might have destroyed me if it hadn’t been for you.’
‘No.’ Jerrard shook his head. ‘I only helped you come to terms with it. You were the one who learned to control it. Maybe you could have turned into a tyrant like your father five years ago, but you didn’t. And you won’t. If anything, you became too controlled, so afraid of being hurt or hurting anyone that you closed yourself off to all feeling, but you’ve become a different man in these past few weeks.’
‘I fell in love with my wife.’ Matthew gave a terse laugh. ‘I thought perhaps she might care for me, too, but...I ruined things.’
‘There’s still time to fix them.’
‘I hope so.’ He glanced towards the doorway. ‘The sooner I get back to Lacelby, the better.’
‘Then go.’
‘What?’ Matthew looked around hopefully. ‘What about the charter? I can’t just abandon it.’
‘You’re not. You’ve done as much as anyone to get it to this point. Maybe it’s time to let others do the rest. If we need you in April then I’ll summon you. In the meantime, there’s going to be a lot of talking and planning and not much else. You’d do better to get home to your wife and make sure she’s all right.’
‘Do you mean it?’ He was already back on his feet.
‘Go home.’ Jerrard reclaimed his tankard with a smile. ‘Live a happy and peaceful life. Isn’t that what this charter’s for?’