The Fatal Crown(24)

Her face set, gray eyes blazing, Maud slowly lifted her arms and deliberately removed the crown from her head, resisting an overpowering impulse to smash it into her father’s face. As if reading her violent thoughts, he took a backward step. But, to her surprise, he did not look displeased. She turned to give the crown to one of her ladies before she remembered that they had remained in the pavilion across the river. Stephen walked forward.

“Let me help you, Cousin,” he said, taking the crown from her.

Not trusting herself to speak, Maud nodded gratefully. The King grimaced in what she took to be a smile, and clasped her in his arms at last. The familiar scent of sweat, damp leather, and stables was overpowering. The waiting crowd let out a long sigh.

“You will not regret the loss of that trinket,” Henry said in her ear. “You shall know as much honor in England and Normandy, I promise you, as ever you knew in Germany. More.”

He released her so quickly she stumbled backwards, but he caught her arm in a firm grip. “You have much to learn, I think, but you please us well, Daughter.”

“Sire.” She bowed her head, controlling her rage and shame as the magnates of her father’s court came up to greet her.

With a frozen smile on her lips she mouthed polite phrases, her father’s words echoing in her head. Honor indeed! Sweet Marie, what honor was there in shaming her before his court? Without her crown, which she knew she could never again wear with impunity, she felt naked, stripped of pride and identity. It was not to be borne! But for the moment, if she meant to survive in this Norman stronghold, she must bear it. And she intended to survive, she told herself fiercely, survive long enough until somehow she became as powerful as her father.





Chapter Seven


THE LITTER CARRYING MAUD back to her camp had just come to the bridge, when she heard footsteps running down the hill behind her. Turning, she saw her cousin Stephen, his blue mantle streaming behind him. In one hand he held the Imperial crown.

The litter came to a halt as he approached.

“Cousin, here is your crown,” he said in a breathless voice. “You left so quickly I had no time to return it.” He handed her the gold circlet.

“Thank you,” Maud replied.

When he made no move to leave she became disconcerted.

“Was there something else?” She knew she sounded ungracious but at the moment did not care.

“Let me walk you back to your pavilion,” he said.

“Walk back?”

“Only a short walk, and it’s such a warm day.”

It would be pleasant to walk for a change, Maud decided. She was tired of being carted about in the litter, and missed the daily exercise of riding her mare which she had done regularly in Germany. Still she held back, reluctant without knowing why.

“That’s settled then,” Stephen said, without waiting for an answer. Before she could resist he had taken her hand and the next thing she knew her feet were on the ground.

He waved the litter away; they were alone on the bridge.

“Do you make a habit of enforcing your will on others?” she asked, undecided whether she was offended or amused.

“Never,” he said disarmingly. “Persuasion is so much more effective for it brings me whatever I desire.”

“Indeed?” Maud struggled to keep her expression serious. “You have a high opinion of yourself.”

“I’ve been assured that it is entirely justified.” Stephen’s smile was infectious.

He was impossible to resist and she burst out laughing. They began to walk over the bridge. Halfway across, Stephen took her arm and purposefully led her to the stone railing. His smile faded and he looked directly into her eyes.

“Do not be distressed by the incident with your father,” he said. “He meant you no harm.”

It was the last thing Maud had expected, and she felt her sense of dignity unravel. That he had sensed her distress, that her feelings had been so exposed, was even worse than his having witnessed her humiliation.

She carefully laid the crown on the rail, then forced a laugh. “Why ever should you think I was distressed?”

“There’s no need to keep up appearances with me, Cousin,” Stephen replied. “At one time or another we have all felt crushed by the King’s will and smarted under the lash of his tongue.”

Maud hesitated, still feeling the need to shield her vulnerability. But Stephen’s voice sounded genuinely concerned, and the need to release her pent-up frustration and bitterness would no longer be denied.

“To disgrace me before all his court—” she began, then stopped, swallowing the flood of impending tears.

“To disgrace you was not his intent,” Stephen said.