The Fatal Crown(25)
Maud’s hands balled into fists. “Why else would he treat me so? He did not even think me worthy of a proper reception in Rouen.”
Stephen looked at her in genuine surprise. “But that is easily explained. St. Clair has great significance for the King, for all Normans.” He pointed a finger at the water beneath them. “The banks of the Epte River were the scene of an unprecedented historic event. Over two hundred years ago, on this very ground, the King of France created Rollo the Viking, the first Duke of Normandy. It’s my guess your father meant to do you honor!”
“I did not know that,” she said slowly, then shook her head. “What you say makes no sense. What possible connection can there be between myself and the first Duke of Normandy? How can he hope to do me honor by forcing me to remove my crown?”
“I think, as well, that perhaps he meant to teach you a lesson. The King will not tolerate defiance.” Stephen’s green eyes danced. “And it was to defy him that you wore the crown, was it not?”
“And if it was? Why do you defend that tyrant?”
Stephen took a step back and held up his hands in mock protection. “As God is my witness, I do not defend him. But in years of experience with my uncle, I have found that—”
“You do defend him,” she interjected, cutting him off. “Sweet Marie, when members of his court came up to greet me none could meet my eye, nor could they escape soon enough. As if the King’s displeasure was a catching thing, like a wasting disease.”
Stephen was silent. “What can I say to reassure you?” he finally asked. “Whatever the King does, no matter how cruel—and I don’t deny that he can be cruel—invariably he has the weal of the realm in mind.”
Maud turned away with a despairing gesture. Walking back to the railing, she leaned over the side and stared down into the muddy water of the river. It seemed impossible that this rustic hamlet should ever have been the setting for a great event.
“Oh, what’s the use,” she said, her back to him. “You, who are so greatly admired by the King, loved and accepted by everyone, how could I ever expect you to understand? After occupying a position of authority and prominence, do you know what it’s like to be alone, an outsider, totally at the mercy of a virtual stranger?”
Two strong hands gripped her shoulders and turned her around. There was a look on Stephen’s face, a steely glitter to his eyes, that sent a shiver of surprise through her.
“I not understand? By God’s birth, matters were not always so favorable for me as they are now, let me tell you. My mother, like your father, is a strong woman with a will of iron. She never had a kind word to say about me, and finally sent me from Blois, not with her blessing but with a warning never to return unless I made something of myself. My father, a deserter and coward, died when I was small, and I have lived with that shame for over twenty years. When I came to England no one could have been more alone, more miserable for the first year or two. I had to earn my place in the sun.”
Maud’s rage slowly dissipated, turning to compassion and interest. Miraculously, he did understand. “I had not realized your mother was so like my father.”
“Were they not both children of the great William?” Stephen replied, with a bitter edge to his voice. “After all, how far does the apple fall from the tree?”
Maud darted a glance at Stephen’s face, which had suddenly become a frozen mask. She let the silence lengthen between them before speaking. “The Emperor always referred to our grandfather as that bastard, upstart Norman adventurer who would not have lasted a day against the Teutonic knights.”
After a moment she heard Stephen chuckle. “An upstart Norman adventurer, eh? By God, I would have liked that husband of yours. How you must miss him.”
“I do,” she whispered, noting that the frozen mask of his face had relaxed.
“Come, I didn’t mean to remind you of your loss.” He reached out and tilted her face upward. “Smile,” he commanded. “You have no idea how fair you are when you smile. Wondrously fair.”
Maud blushed and shook her head free. “After a difficult beginning in England you have done well for yourself, Cousin,” she said, anxious to change the subject. “Next to my half brother, Robert, I have heard that there is no more powerful lord in all the realm.”
Stephen gave her a boyish smile. “Perhaps, with God’s grace, to be more powerful still.”
“Indeed?” Intrigued, she waited, wondering what he meant. When still he did not speak she prodded him: “Tell me, Cousin. I would know of your impending good fortune.”