Read Online The Captive Heart by Bertrice Small - Free Book Online
Authors: Bertrice Small
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traveled together,” he began as he took up both of her hands and kissed them reverently. “I would continue on if I could, but while my daughter continues to deny it, I am dying.”
Margaret of Anjou nodded. “I know, Alexander,” she replied. “You have been the loyalist of the loyal and I am not unaware. I fear, however, I have repaid you and Blanche ill by arranging this union for Alix. Yet if she will give the baron a grandchild her place in his house and heart will be safe. The son is a couchon , but the father is a good man. Alix will not suffer in his care.”
“I will be here for my daughter as long as I can be,” the physician said. He kissed the queen’s hands again. “Go with God, madame. Leave England to the Yorkists for now, and take the prince home to Anjou, where he will be safe and live to reclaim his kingdom one day. I know you are hurt, and angry, but take my counsel in this, madame.”
“I cannot desert my husband,” the queen said.
“The king, God protect him, will never rule again,” Alexander Givet told her. “Save yourself, madame, and save the little prince. You have never in all the years I have known you failed in your duty, Highness. Forgive me if I speak candidly, but it is the privilege of a dying man.”
She squeezed the two hands holding her. “My duty is first to my husband, Alexander. Do not fear for me. It will be God’s will that prevails in the end.”
He kissed her elegant gloved hands a third and final time. “ Le bon Dieu and his Blessed Mother protect you all,” Alexander Givet said, his eyes wet with his tears. “Farewell, my beloved lady.”
Margaret of Anjou nodded silently and quickly turned away from the physician lest he see her own tears. A servant helped her to mount her mare. The captain of the little troop raised his hand and called out, “Allez!” The small royal party began to move off, down the narrow dirt track that led north. The weather was fair. The hills beginning to green up. The queen turned but briefly in her saddle to raise a hand in farewell to Alexander Givet and his daughter.
Around her everyone went back to their duties. Her father was helped into the house by Wat, but Alix stood silently before the hall watching until the riders were no more than specks on the road, finally disappearing over the horizon. The life she had known was almost entirely gone. Only her father remained. Yet for how long? How long until she was entirely at the mercy of Hayle Watteson, who loved not his wife but the miller’s daughter, who would bear his first child. If he truly loved the girl, she couldn’t blame him for resenting the wife foisted upon him. Still, it wasn’t her fault, was it? She turned and reentered the house. I will not allow him to punish me because of something neither of us can help , Alix thought. I will be strong for my father. For Sir Udolf, who is good to us. For my husband, who is a child.
It startled her to face that realization. Hayle Watteson was a child in a man’s body. A mature man would have realized his wife had to be of equal blood to him. He would have wed such a woman and kept his mistress discreetly in the background. If his mistress bore him children, he would provide for them, but he would never force his lover or their children into his wife’s realm. His wife’s children would be his heirs. Perhaps in such a rural setting as she now found herself her husband’s children would know one another, but they would all keep their place.
She knew this wasn’t going to happen with her husband. Hayle Watteson would crow and boast when Maida delivered her child. If it was a male child so much the worse for them all. And if Alix did not give him a strong legitimate son, he would blame her alone. And if Sir Udolf should die what would happen to her? Alix grit her teeth. If anything happened to her father-in-law she would flee Wulfborn Hall as quickly as she could. She would not remain to be hated by a peasantry who
Margaret of Anjou nodded. “I know, Alexander,” she replied. “You have been the loyalist of the loyal and I am not unaware. I fear, however, I have repaid you and Blanche ill by arranging this union for Alix. Yet if she will give the baron a grandchild her place in his house and heart will be safe. The son is a couchon , but the father is a good man. Alix will not suffer in his care.”
“I will be here for my daughter as long as I can be,” the physician said. He kissed the queen’s hands again. “Go with God, madame. Leave England to the Yorkists for now, and take the prince home to Anjou, where he will be safe and live to reclaim his kingdom one day. I know you are hurt, and angry, but take my counsel in this, madame.”
“I cannot desert my husband,” the queen said.
“The king, God protect him, will never rule again,” Alexander Givet told her. “Save yourself, madame, and save the little prince. You have never in all the years I have known you failed in your duty, Highness. Forgive me if I speak candidly, but it is the privilege of a dying man.”
She squeezed the two hands holding her. “My duty is first to my husband, Alexander. Do not fear for me. It will be God’s will that prevails in the end.”
He kissed her elegant gloved hands a third and final time. “ Le bon Dieu and his Blessed Mother protect you all,” Alexander Givet said, his eyes wet with his tears. “Farewell, my beloved lady.”
Margaret of Anjou nodded silently and quickly turned away from the physician lest he see her own tears. A servant helped her to mount her mare. The captain of the little troop raised his hand and called out, “Allez!” The small royal party began to move off, down the narrow dirt track that led north. The weather was fair. The hills beginning to green up. The queen turned but briefly in her saddle to raise a hand in farewell to Alexander Givet and his daughter.
Around her everyone went back to their duties. Her father was helped into the house by Wat, but Alix stood silently before the hall watching until the riders were no more than specks on the road, finally disappearing over the horizon. The life she had known was almost entirely gone. Only her father remained. Yet for how long? How long until she was entirely at the mercy of Hayle Watteson, who loved not his wife but the miller’s daughter, who would bear his first child. If he truly loved the girl, she couldn’t blame him for resenting the wife foisted upon him. Still, it wasn’t her fault, was it? She turned and reentered the house. I will not allow him to punish me because of something neither of us can help , Alix thought. I will be strong for my father. For Sir Udolf, who is good to us. For my husband, who is a child.
It startled her to face that realization. Hayle Watteson was a child in a man’s body. A mature man would have realized his wife had to be of equal blood to him. He would have wed such a woman and kept his mistress discreetly in the background. If his mistress bore him children, he would provide for them, but he would never force his lover or their children into his wife’s realm. His wife’s children would be his heirs. Perhaps in such a rural setting as she now found herself her husband’s children would know one another, but they would all keep their place.
She knew this wasn’t going to happen with her husband. Hayle Watteson would crow and boast when Maida delivered her child. If it was a male child so much the worse for them all. And if Alix did not give him a strong legitimate son, he would blame her alone. And if Sir Udolf should die what would happen to her? Alix grit her teeth. If anything happened to her father-in-law she would flee Wulfborn Hall as quickly as she could. She would not remain to be hated by a peasantry who
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