The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [50]
In what did her love for him consist? Necessity, pure and simple. Understandable, of course. She had determined how her life was to be, and had the means to make it so. The modest fortress of her proprieties was complete. And for this she needed him. Could marriage be any other way?
It was hardly surprising, therefore, that his thoughts at such a time should have turned to Adela.
They had done so quite often in the last year. The lone girl, the free spirit: she had intrigued him from the first. More than that. Why else should he have sought her out in Winchester? And since then, quite often, almost as though some influence was working on his mind, she had made her appearance or seemed invisibly to be beside him in his thoughts. He had met Cola a little while ago, and the huntsman had told him where she was and that she had asked after him and his family. At the last full moon he had experienced a sudden yearning for her. Three nights ago she had come to him in his dreams.
He gazed for some time, now, out of the window, then abruptly announced: ‘I’m going for a ride.’
It was early afternoon when he arrived at Cola’s manor. The old man was out, but his son Edgar was there. So was Adela.
He left his horse with Edgar, and he and Adela walked down the lane towards the Avon where the swans glided and the long, green river weeds waved gently in the current. They talked – they scarcely knew of what – and after a time he suggested that, if he sent word, they should meet again, in private.
She assented.
On their return to Edgar he was careful to thank her, rather formally, for her interest in his family during their time of trouble and then, with a courteous nod to the young man, he rode away.
As he did so he felt a tingling excitement he had not known for a long time. He had no doubt that he would be successful in this romantic adventure. It was not as if he had never done such a thing before.
The letter from Walter arrived one week later. It was brief and to the point. He was on his way to England. He was to meet some of his wife’s family, then join the king. By early August he expected to be free to come and collect her. The letter ended with one other item of information:
By the way, I have found you a husband.
Three weeks had passed. No message had come from Martell. Although she tried to conceal her agitation, Adela was pale and tense. What did it mean?
Why had he not come? Had the Lady Maud fallen ill again? She tried to find out. The only report she could obtain said that the lady was getting stronger every day.
She was not sure what would come of it when she and Martell met. Would she give herself to him? She did not know, she hardly cared. She wanted, only, to see him. She longed to ride over to his manor, but knew she could not. She wanted to write, but did not dare.
The news from Walter made the situation even more urgent. He would take her away and marry her off. Could she refuse to go with him? Could she turn down another suitor? Nothing seemed to make sense.
Meanwhile, the king had arrived in Winchester. The army and fleet would soon be ready. More money, it was said, was coming into the Winchester treasury. Rufus was so occupied that he had not even had time to hunt.
Whether Walter had reached Winchester yet she did not know. Nor had she any wish to communicate with him if he had.
In the last week of July she went to see Puckle’s wife. She found her in her little cabin, just as she had been before; but when she asked for help and advice the witch refused to give it.
‘Couldn’t we cast a spell again?’ she asked.
The woman only shook her head calmly. ‘Wait. Be patient. What will be, will be,’ she answered.
So Adela went back, discouraged.
The atmosphere at Cola’s manor was not made easier by the fact that Edgar seemed moody. No further word had been spoken about his proposal – and she could not imagine that he had any inkling of her secret feelings for Martell – but the news that Walter was coming to take her away could hardly have pleased