|
|
|
|
|
|
future. It was irrelevant that the arguments he had used to dissuade Bassett from attacking Henry were true. Walter knew that Richard would not have approved of threatening the king, but Richard's conscience was often too tender for his own good. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Or was it? Was it not wisdom that made Richard insist on avoiding any direct confrontation? After all, they would have to live with Henry after peace was made; hatred held down only by fear was no happy base on which to build a future. That was a comforting thought, but Walter did not trust it or himself. It sounded very much like something Geoffrey would say, but would he be thinking this way if he had not married Sybelle? It did not matter, Walter told himself firmly. He had done what he knew Richard would have wanted, and that was his proper duty. It was not his right to decide what was best for the Earl of Pembroke in his absence. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Having repressed his doubts, Walter entered into the planning of the raid. Bassett regretted that none of Simon's men was available for spying, and Walter agreed heartily but then suggested that since Clifford and Huntington were so closeno more than about five miles apartit was possible that huntsmen from Clifford knew some of their own kind from the king's forest. This was found to be so, and the men were dispatched to learn what they could. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
By dinnertime, Marie had reconsidered her original idea of refusing to notice Walter's presence. If he planned to remain in Clifford, or spend much time in the keep, such behavior would become noticeable. Although Gervase would understand, Bassett and Siward would surely wonder and perhaps report to Richard. Marie was flattering herself, as the gentlemen had far better things to wonder about and more important ones to communicate to Pembroke, but Marie saw life from her own point of view. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Unfortunately, as she thought about Walter, Marie's rage reawakened. She wished to be coldly disdainful, as if he were one of the lower orders, but she did not dare, fearing he would grow angry and be crude and boorish enough to make a public jest of her desire to marry him one month and her coldness the next. The result of the varying emotions that boiled in her was a most peculiar mannera gush, followed by a withdrawal, a titter of nervous laughter for no reason, a |
|
|
|
|
|