When Christ and His Saints Slept by Sharon Kay Penman Read Free Book Online Page B

for that one-legged beggar we saw in the marketplace, for lepers or women with no men to protect them. Geoffrey and Maude may be miserable, but misery is much easier to bear in a castle, child.”
    “Amen,” Brigette said fervently, and she and Mirabelle laughed. Barbe was quiet after that, startled by her sister’s unsentimental assessment of her royal lover’s plight.
    “Do you think Maude will truly rule England and Normandy one day?” she asked, for she found it incomprehensible that a woman could wield power like a man. “How would she know what to do?”
    “Oh, she is clever enough to match wits with most men. Even Geoffrey admits as much. She knows how to read and write, she is fluent in French and German, and Geoffrey says she understands a little Latin. If you ask me, though, I think she is one of God’s great fools. That lad up there in my bed is not a bad sort. But there is no forgiveness in him, none at all. Once he decides that Maude owes him a debt, she will be paying it off for the rest of their marriage. She—”
    “Mirabelle, where are you? Get a basin up here fast, for I’m going to be sick!”
    The voice was young, imperious, and urgent. Mirabelle grinned and got to her feet. “Coming, my love!” Gathering up a basin, a pitcher of water, and several towels, she started for the stairs, pausing to wink and say softly, “Time to earn the rent.”
    Brigette raised her cup and Barbe leaned over, politely poured more cider. “Brigette…what will happen to them, the Lord Geoffrey and the Lady Maude?”
    “Who knows?” After a moment, though, Brigette grinned. “If you’re one for gambling, Lucas the Fleming is taking wagers that they’ll kill each other ere the year is out!”
     
    “ OPEN the shutters, Minna. I would know the worst,” Maude said tautly. The older woman hesitated, then did as she was bade. Summer sunlight flooded the room, warming and indolent and unsparingly bright. Maude drew a deep breath, then raised the mirror. It had been a gift from her first husband, the German Emperor Heinrich, the work of a master craftsman, carved ivory and polished brass, sheeted in thin glass. The metallic reflection was distorted, somewhat blurred, but not enough to hide her swollen, split lip and the mottled, darkening bruises on her cheek. Maude closed her eyes for a moment, then sank down in the window seat.
    “What am I to do, Minna? The abbot will be here from St Aubin’s within the hour, and he’ll have only to look at me to know. They all will, anyone with eyes to see…”
    Minna’s and Maude’s lives had first intersected at Utrecht, where the young widow had been chosen to attend the even younger empress. After Maude was widowed in her turn, Minna had forsaken her German homeland and accompanied her mistress back to England. They’d been together now for more than ten years, but never had Minna heard Maude sound like this, so utterly despairing. “Mayhap we can cover the bruises with powder, madame.”
    “There would not be enough powder in Christendom for that.” Rising from the window seat, Maude began to pace. “Damn him,” she cried suddenly, “damn him to Hellfire Everlasting!”
    Minna wondered which one she meant, husband or father. “My lady, my fear for you bids me be bold, bids me speak my mind. You cannot go on like this. Something must be done.”
    “What would you have me do, Minna? Cut his throat whilst he sleeps?” Maude’s mouth twisted. “I’ve thought about it, you may be sure!”
    “My lady…please hear me out. You’ll not like what I am about to say, but I cannot keep silent, not when I see him hurting you like this. So far he has not lost all control. He may have been angry enough to strike you, but he stopped at that. What happens when he does not? Madame, slaps lead to beatings, sooner or later. You cannot let it reach that point, for there will be no going back then. You must save yourself whilst there is still time.”
    “How?” Maude