The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [39]
‘They told me you would be back soon.’ He seemed almost relieved to see her.
What could this mean? Why had he come? Walter had assured her that the Lady Maud would turn Martell against her; but it did not seem so.
He smiled, but it was clear that there was strain on his face. ‘May we walk?’
‘Certainly.’ She indicated the way towards St Swithuns and he fell into step beside her. ‘Are you in Winchester for long?’
‘Only an hour or two, I think.’ He glanced down at her. ‘You have not heard. But of course, why should you? My wife is ill.’ He shook his head. ‘Very ill.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’
‘Perhaps it is because she is with child, I do not know. No one knows.’ He made a gesture of helplessness.
‘And so you are here …?’
‘There is a doctor. A skilful Jew. He has attended the king. They told me he was to be found here in Winchester.’
She had heard of this personage, even seen him once – a rather magnificent, black-bearded man who had been staying for the last week as a guest of the keeper at the royal treasury.
‘He is out riding with some of his king’s men,’ Martell continued. ‘But they are expected back in an hour or two. I hope you did not mind my coming to your lodgings. I know no one in Winchester.’
‘No.’ She was not sure what to say. He was pacing beside her, his long strides, so full of nervous energy, carefully kept slow so that she should not need to hurry. ‘I am glad to see you.’
Why had he come to her? Glancing up at his face, so full of worry and concern, she suddenly realized. Of course, this strong man was also an ordinary man, with feelings like any other. He was in anguish. He was lonely. He had come to her to be comforted. A wave of tenderness passed through her. ‘They say the Jewish doctors have great skill,’ she suggested. The Normans had a high regard for the learning of the Jews, which went back to classical times. It had been the Conqueror who established the Jewish community in England and his son Rufus particularly favoured them at his court. ‘I’m sure he will cure her.’
‘Yes.’ He stared ahead absently. ‘Let us hope so.’ They walked on together in silence for a short distance. The cathedral loomed ahead. ‘Winchester is a fine city,’ he remarked, in a brave effort to make conversation. ‘Do you like it?’
She told him she did. She talked about recent small events in the city, of people who had passed through – anything that might distract his mind from his worries for a while. And she could see that he was grateful. But she also saw, after a time, that he wanted to return to his thoughts and so she said no more and they continued in silence together round St Swithuns.
‘The child is due at the start of summer,’ he said suddenly. ‘We have waited so long.’
‘Yes.’
‘My wife is a wonderful woman,’ he added. ‘Brave, gentle, kind.’ Adela nodded quietly to this also. What could she say? That she knew his wife to be timid, small-minded and vicious? ‘She is devoted. She is loyal.’
The memory of the lady standing close to Tyrrell, the sight of his hand moving to her breast and remaining there, came into Adela’s mind with terrible vividness. ‘Of course.’ How good he was. A thousand times too good for the Lady Maud, she thought. Yet here she was, because she must, quietly acquiescing in his self-deception.
They said little more as they made their way back towards her lodgings and were getting near the city gate when they saw a party of horsemen ride in among whom, unmistakably, was the impressive figure of the Jew.
Martell started forward, checked himself and turned. ‘My dear Lady Adela.’ He took her two hands in his. ‘Thank you for keeping me company at such a time.’ He looked into her eyes with real tenderness. ‘Your kindness means so much to me.’
‘It was nothing.’
‘Well …’ He hesitated. ‘I know you only a little, but I feel that I can talk to you.’
Talk to her – as she looked up into his manly, troubled face, how she wished she could respond truthfully. How she wished she could say: ‘You are grieving over a woman completely