537 "Yes " Llewelyn stopped, turned to face the other man "I have no choice, Ednyved," he said bleakly "I love my son But I can no longer trust him " 5 LLANFAES, NORTH WALES October 1222 "Nc INo' No, I'll not do it I'll not marry him " "Elen, what are you saying7" Joanna rose, moved quickly toward her daughter "We thought you would be elated The Earl of Chester has no children, his sister's son John is his sole heir Do you not realize what that means7 Upon his father's death, John became Earl of Huntingdon, and he'll one day inherit the earldom of Chester, too You'll be marrying into one of England's greatest families Moreover, John is a first cousin of the Scots King Your father and I could not hope to make a better match for you " "But I do not want him1" "Elen, I am trying to understand, I truly am But I do not see why you would balk at the marriage John is not a stranger to you, you met him at Shrewsbury two years past He's a personable youth, well mannered and agreeable You're nigh on fifteen and he's almost seventeen, so your ages are quite suitable And this marriage will make you Countess of Huntingdon, and eventually Countess of Chester So why, then, are you so reluctant7" Elen said nothing, but her mouth was still set in mutinous lines, ar>d Joanna reached out, turned the girl to face her "Elen, listen to me T11 11 not deny that this marriage is very important to your father But we ^ant you to be happy, darling If you have a valid reason for opposing the marriage, now is the time to tell me Why do you not want to marry John the Scot7" "I do not like him, Mama " Exasperation and bafflementfamiliar emotions to Joanna where
538 her daughter was concerned. "But you do not know him well enough to make a judgment like that," she pointed out, striving for patience. Elen tossed her head. "His eyes are too close together. And he has a weak chin." "Elen, for the love of God! What does that have to do with marriage?" Elen knew her mother was right; marriages were based upon pragmatic considerations of property and political advantage. Unable to defend her position, she could only fall back upon accusation, upon raw emotion. "I should have known you'd not understand! You never do!" "As it happens, Elen, I understand more than you realize. It is only natural that you might feel qualms. When I married your father, I" "Oh, Mama, that was different! You love Papa!" "I learned to love him, Elen. The truth is that I did not want to marry your father, to live in Wales, and I was utterly wretched when we were first wed." But Elen's image of Joanna was still circumscribed by childhood boundaries, and she found it impossible to identify her mother with a fearful fourteen-year-old bride. "You're happy with Papa. But I'd not be happy with your John the Scot, and he can just look for a wife elsewhere." "Elen, it is not that simple. I do not think you understand how much this alliance means to your father. What are you going to tell him, that you do not like John the Scot's eyes?" Elen flushed. "Do not laugh at me!" "Believe me, child," Joanna said wearily, "I find nothing remotely amusing about this." "I am not a child. In three weeks I'll be" "Fifteen. I know; I was present at your birth, remember?" Joanna could hear her own sarcasm, but could not help herself. Her anger was rising, fueled by insidious misgivings that defied all logic, all common sense. She knew this marriage was for her daughter's good; why, then, was she suddenly plagued by doubts? "I had good reason for reluctancemarriage to a man I'd never even seen, a man more than eighteen years older than I, from an utterly alien world, my father's enemy. None of that is true for you, Elen. I just cannot comprehend your attitude. Why must you always be so willfulYour sisters were quite content to let your father choose their husbands, did not" "They would! Gwenllian and Marared have as much spirit as . a sheep," Elen said scornfully, while prudently making no mention ° Gwladys. "But I'll not be wed against my will to a Scots-Norman co comb. And you cannot make me, Mama. Welsh law states that 'ever<
>l 539 vvoman is to go the way she willeth, freely.' A Welshwoman has the right to pick her own husband, unlike the women of your blood, who pass with the land like serfs!" "That is not precisely true, Elen," Joanna snapped. Her daughter's taunt had stung, more than she wanted to admit. "A Welsh widow may indeed marry againor notas she freely chooses. But a young girl, a maiden, is still in her family's care." "Mayhap if you spoke better Welsh, Mama, you'd have learned more of our ways. You're right; the family of a virgin maid can prevent her from marrying a man not of their choice. But they can do nothing whatsoever about it if she is no longer a virgin. So I need only lose my maidenhead and I will be utterly free to wed or not as I wish." Joanna's reaction was all Elen could have hoped for; she'd rarely managed to render her mother speechless. But her moment of satisfaction was fleetingand costly. She spun around as the door slammed, gasped at sight of her father. Llewelyn had always shunted the onus of discipline off onto Joanna, at least where his daughters were concerned; Elen had long ago learned which of her parents was more likely to laugh away a minor misdeed. But there was nothing of the familiar indulgent father about Llewelyn now. He looked no less incredulous than Joanna, and a good deal angrier. "I cannot believe what I just heard you say," he said, and Elen blushed. "I did not mean it, Papa, truly!" "I would hope to God not. If I ever thought a daughter of mine would so shame herself" Joanna interrupted hastily. "I'm afraid, Llewelyn, that Elen does not want to marry John the Scot." "I gathered as much. But what I do not understand is why. Suppose you tell me that, Elen. Tell me why you'd scorn an earldom." "I ... I do not like him, Papa. He seemed so staid and proper; I thought him a bit of a prig. And he has no sense of humor, none!" Elen's eyfis suddenly brimmed over. While her distress was real enough, her ears might not have flowed so readily had she not so many memories of Wes when she'd won her way by tears. Her father was frowning; she f"Jt a hand upon his arm, looked up entreatingly into his face. "Please, Pa- Do not make me wed John the Scot. I'd be so unhappy, Papa, I )Ust know I would." , For a long moment Llewelyn studied his daughter. Joanna watched, ding her breath. And then, to her utter astonishment, he said, "I'll 01 force you, Elen."
T 540 54J Elen flung her arms around his neck, bestowing grateful, hapha^. ard kisses. "Thank you, Papa, thank you!" "Llewelyn?" Joanna was staring at her husband in disbelief. pje gave her an oblique glance, one she could not interpret at all, then turned back to Elen. "I want what is best for you, Elen. Your mother and I would not see you hurt, not for all the political gains under God's sky. John the Scot is Chester's nephew and heir. But he is also a decent young man, would never use you ill. You could be content with him, Elen, I have no doubts of that." "But. . . but Papa, you said you'd not force me!" "Nor will 1.1 am not ordering you to this, lass. I am asking it of you, asking you to trust my judgment. It is that important, Elen. I need not tell you, a Welshwoman, what is the most binding of all bonds, that of blood." Elen sensed that she was being outflanked. "I know that, Papa. But there is no need for this marriage. You and Chester are already allies." "Yes, lass, we are. But I am forty and nine, and Chester even older What happens when my power passes to Davydd, and Chester's earldom to John the Scot? The alliance is too valuable to leave its survival to chance. If I no longer have to fight the Earl of Chesterwhoever he may beI am then free to act in South Wales. The Welsh princes will always have to defer to the English crown. But we can prevent further Norman encroachments into our lands. We can make sure that there are no more Flemish settlers moving in to displace the Welsh, that men like Pembroke build no more Norman towns on Welsh soil. We can still safeguard the future, and this marriage will help to do that." Elen's breathing had quickened. "You're not being fair, Papa," she said, almost inaudibly. "I do not want to marry him." "I know, lass." Llewelyn's voice had softened, too. "And I understand. How could I not? For much of my life I've had to do things that 1 did not want to do. But they had to be done nonetheless, because so much was at stake." Elen was silent. But the sudden droop of her shoulders was more expressive than any words she could have uttered. Llewelyn brushed the tears from her face. "I trusted you to make the right decision, Elen. knew I could. Can you not trust me as much? You'll have no regrets* lass, I promise you." John had once made the same promise to Joanna, under identic circumstances, and he'd been right
. Joanna closed her eyes, said a silen" fervent prayer to the holiest and most merciful of mothers that L welyn, too, might be right. t "I'll do as you wish, Papa." But it was a stranger's voice, did n Ound like Elen at all, and suddenly Joanna found herself wishing pas- jonately that her daughter could be a child again, with a child's choices nd the easy comfort to be found within a mother's embrace. She moved forward, put her arm around Elen's shoulders. The girl stiffened at the touch; pulling away, she fled the chamber. She stumbled several times, humped into the table as she turned, and that, too, was unlike Elen. They let her go. Llewelyn sat down abruptly in the nearest chair. He vvas the first to break the silence. "Was I wrong, Joanna?" She shook her head. "No, love, you were not. I do believe what I told Elen, that we could not make a better match for her than this." Crossing to his chair, Joanna put her arms around his neck, rested her cheek against his hair; although she teased him at times about going erey, it was still thick and dark, showed silver only under fullest sunlight. But he looked his age at the moment, looked so careworn that she leaned over, kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll talk to Elen," she promised. "I'll go and look for her right now."
"I wish you would, breila. There's no logical reason for Elen to oppose this marriage, and once she's wed, finds herself the Countess of Huntingdon, she'll see it was for the best. I know that, Joanna. And yet . . . yet I still feel as if I'd been hunting for roebuck and instead shot someone's tame fawn." LLANFAES was one of Joanna's favorite manors. She liked the relatively mild island climate, loved to walk along the shore, to gaze across the narrow strait toward the lofty range called Eryri by the Welsh and Snowdon by the English. She knew that Elen, too, loved the dramatic contrast of sea, sky, and mountains, and she headed for the beach. As she expected, there she found her daughter, standing alone by the water's edge. Elen was clutching her veil; it was crumpled, wet with tears. But her eyes were dry as she turned to face Joanna; they held no tears, only anger. "Go away, Mama," she said. "I do not want to talk to you." "Darling, I know you're hurting. But it will pass, I swear it will. E'en, I know." "You've felt like this, Mama? You've felt trapped? Trapped and helpless?" "Yes, Elen, yes. God's truth, I did. You must believe me, darling." "I do, Mama. I believe you. And that is why I cannot forgive you." 'en's voice was coldly accusing. But all the while she was twisting and Dotting the veil with hands that shook. I know Papa loves me. But he is a man and cannot possibly underar|d how it feels to be bartered to the highest bidder like a prized filly.
542 r 543 You, though, Mama, you should have understood. You should hav spoken up for me. But you did not, did you? And now you tell me y0 know how I feel. Well, that just makes your failure all the mor unforgivable!" "Elen, I could not argue against this marriage. I believe it is right for you. John can offer you a good life, can offer you all I've ever wanted for you, and more. And he" "But what of me? What of what I want?" "You're fourteen, Elen. You're not in a position to make a decision that will affect your entire life. Nor was I, at your age. A young mj cannot choose her own husband. Darling, you know that. This is how marriages are made. This is how it's always been done." "Just because something has always been done a certain way does not make it right. But you cannot see that, can you, Mama? You'll not talk to Papa. You'll not try to change his mind." "No, Elen," Joanna said softly. "I cannot do that." Elen dropped her veil, watched as the wind carried it away, an incongruous splash of color against the drifting sand. "Then we have nothing more to say, have we? I'll marry your John the Scot, Mama. And you may be right; I may in time be reconciled to it, to him. But what if I'm not? Have you thought of that? What if you're wrong?" LLEWELYN and Chester selected Tuesday, November 22, as the date for the wedding, three weeks past Elen's fifteenth birthday, five days before the beginning of Advent, when the marriage Mass would be prohibited. Elen and John the Scot were wed in the city of Chester, in the same abbey church in which Llewelyn and Joanna had been wed sixteen years earlier. The wedding was a social event of impressive proportions, attracting the highborn of Wales and England alike. Rhys leunac had died that past August, but his brother Owain was present, as were his uncles Maelgwn and Rhys Gryg. So, too, was Llewelyn's cousin Madog, lord of Upper Powys. Henry could not attend, but he'd sent his younger brother, Dickon, and his seven-year-old sister, Nell, in his stead. And as Joanna glanced now around the great hall of the Earl's castle, she saw most of the Norman nobility. "I was astonished when Hubert de Burgh accepted his invitation, she confided to Richard. "He and Chester have been at odds for months now, and I would not think he'd want to socialize with a man who h'ke him so little." "The English court thrives on such feuds," Richard said dryly-' very fact that de Burgh mistrusts Chester would guarantee his preset1 here; he'd want to make sure Chester and Llewelyn were not conspu1 F against him. I daresay that if he were not in Ireland, even Pembroke tvould have attended the wedding." "I'm right glad he did not. The last thing I want is a brawl, thank you. Speaking of which, I was not heartbroken when Gruffydd refused to come. But he and Senena are the only ones absent. That's Tegwared, Llewelyn's other son, standing over there with my Davydd. You've never met Tegwared, have you? I do not know him well myself, for he was with Cristyn till he was seven, and was then reared in Ednyved's household as a foster son, in accordance with custom. The lass with him is his betrothed, one of Ednyved's daughters." Joanna's smile was fleeting. "At least that is one marriage we need not worry about." Richard followed the path of her gaze, across the hall to where Elen and her new husband were standing, surrounded by well-wishers. "Is it strange for you, Joanna, being back at the scene of your own wedding?" "Somewhat strange, yes. Sixteen years does not seem so very long, but a surprising number of our wedding guests are now dead. Hugh Corbet. His brother Robert, just last month. Stephen de Hodnetyou did not know him, a friend of Llewelyn's." Fearing that she was going to name Maude de Braose next, Richard sought to distract her, saying hastily, "And of course Isabelle is not here. I miss her, Joanna, more than I'd have expected. Does she write to you?"
"Isabelle? Not likely! But I did have news of her just a fortnight ago. Although it's less than a year since she gave Hugh a son, Henry says she is with child again." Joanna paused, looking about the hall. The feasting was now done, and the trestle tables were being dismantled to allow for dancing. "I'm rather glad Thomas Corbet is not here; I remember him stirring up trouble at my wedding. So, too, did Fulk Fitz Warm; he kept going on about the bedding revels at the top of his voice! But he was not invited, either; he's siding with Pembroke these days. So, too, is Baldwin de Hodnet, even though Llewelyn once gave both men refuge at his court. They are just about the only Marcher lords not present, though. All the Fitz Alans are here, and more de Braoses than I can count." It surprised Richard that she sounded so nonchalant, almost flippant. "Are you more comfortable now, Joanna? Being with the de Braoses?" "The truth, Richard? No, I am not. But that is a problem I'm learnm8 to live with. What other choice do I have, with three of my husband's daughters wed into the de Braose clan?" "Three? Gwladys and Reginald de Braose, of course. And then Wnat is her nameMarared and Reginald's nephew Jack. Who else?" "Last year Gwenllian was wed to William de Lacy, half-brother to
544 Hugh de Lacy, Earl of Ulster, and Walter de Lacy, Lord of Meath. Walter is husband to Margaret de Braose, Maude's daughter." "Ah, Joanna, what a tangled coil." But after a moment Richard started to see the perverse humor in Joanna's predicament. His mouth twitched, and he coughed, trying to camouflage a laugh. Joanna gave him a look that was quizzical, half resentful. But there was something contagious about his amusement, and she was soon laughing, too. "I knowit's ludicrous," she admitted. "I'm bloody well surrounded by de Braoses; any day now I expect to find one under my bed!" Their laughter had been a spontaneous, almost involuntary reaction to the absurd, and it ended as abruptly as it began. Much sobered, Joanna said quietly, "It is not so bad with Reginald, for I do not see much of him anymore; he and Llewelyn have not been on good terms for several years now. But Jack de Braose is often at our court. We
're polite to each other, Richard, too polite. But I cannot look into his face without remembering that his father and grandmother died in a Windsor dungeon, that he spent eight years in confinement at Corfe Castle. And if it is so uncomfortable for me, how must it be for him?" Richard knew it was not the place, but the opportunity might not arise again. "Joanna, I hope you'll not take amiss what I'm about to say. Your problem is not with the de Braoses. It's with Papa. Until you face the truth about him, about the manner of man he was and how you feel about that, you're going to continue doing this to yourself, and I hate to see it. Jesu, we earn enough guilt and remorse of our own in this life without taking on the sins of others." "I have faced the truth! Do I deny the cruelties Papa committed, do I defend him? What more do you want of me?" Joanna's voice had risen; several people were looking in their direction. Richard leaned over and, in a rare gesture of public affection, kissed his sister on the cheek. "I'm sorry," he said, and was. He had no answers for Joanna. What had worked for himdistancing himself from Johnobviously did not work for her. "I just want you to be happy, that's all." "I am happy, Richard, in truth I am," Joanna said, and then she smiled. "I think you are, too; I've rarely seen you look so relaxed. It must suit you, being Lord of Chilham, sheriff of Berkshire and Staffordshire." "It does indeed. Whatever else may be said of Papa, he did right by us in our marriages." "Yes," Joanna said, "he did. I only hope Llewelyn and I did as we for Elen." veil
545 She was still thinking of that a few moments later, as she made her way across the hall toward Gwladys. How could a parent ever know which marriage would flourish and which would fail? Marared seemed utterly content with Jack de Braose, had given him a son upon whom they both doted. But Gwladys and her husband treated each other with the cool politeness of strangers, and after seven years, their marriage was still barren. "I'm so glad you were able to come, Gwladys," Joanna said warmly, for she'd not been at all sure that Reginald would agree to attend the wedding; he was rarely seen these days in the same company as his nephew. The feud between Reginald and Jack had been dragging on for several years now, ever since Jack had regained his freedom and laid claim to the bulk of the de Braose lands, as the heir of Will and Maude's eldest son. Nor had Llewelyn eased the tension any by siding with Jack, allowing him to wed Marared. Joanna had found it difficult to forgive Llewelyn for that, for putting additional strain upon his daughter's troubled marriage. But Gwladys kept her own counsel, and if she had regrets, none but she knew. She and Reginald seemed to find no lack of reasons for increasingly long absences apart, and now she said, quite composedly, "I'd have come with or without Reginald. Surely you do not think I'd ever miss Elen's wedding?" Both women turned, gazed across the hall. Elen was clad in a gown of Alexandrine velvet, a brilliant blue-green shade that set off to perfection her free-flowing black hair, gleaming like polished ebony against a gossamer gold veil. "She makes a lovely bride," Gwladys said, and Joanna nodded slowly. "Yes . . . but not a happy one." "I do not think you need fret about Elen, Joanna. She's so volatile that she needs a steadying hand. I expect John will be good for her." Gwladys accepted a wine cup from a passing servant, clinked it against Joanna's. "To Elen," she said. "And speaking of volatile spirits, my husband's wayward son has decided to put in an appearance after all." "Will? He's here?" "Indeed he is. And how like Will; he misses the wedding entirely, but arrives in time for the celebration. I am sorry about this, Joanna, hope you do not mind too much." "No, I... I do not mind. You just caught me by surprise, for he did ^"TI down the invitation. Did he bring his wife?"
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