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she had seen of Hugh's nature, she didn't think he would be cruel or unwelcoming to his half-brother because of it, and surely as the son and brother of a king, Longespee was well compensated.

    'My husband has a foot in two worlds,' Ela said. 'He finds it difficult because the King expects him to tell him things about his Bigod family, and his Bigod family look to him to ease their path with the King. Balancing the two is not always easy for his honour and his duty.'

    Mahelt nodded. She understood that part because her father often had to tread a fine line between his duty to his family and his duty to the King. It still didn't explain the animosity between Hugh and Longespee though.

    'It is the place of a wife to be a peace-weaver,' Ela said. 'I do my best, but Will is proud and stubborn, and Hugh hides behind a smile he doesn't always mean.'

    While Mahelt was trying to digest this food for thought, a messenger arrived at the gallop, dismounted and hurried straight to her father. Whatever he said as he knelt made everyone cease their swordplay and gather around him, hands on hips, expressions concerned. Mahelt's stomach wallowed.
    Messengers were always coming and going at Caversham. Indeed, her father was seldom not in their company, but for one to approach him in the midst of a social gathering meant that the news would not wait.

    As the group dispersed, Mahelt ran up to Will and grabbed his arm. 'What's happened?' she demanded.

    Her brother pushed his dark hair off his forehead in an agitated gesture. 'The castle at Gaillard has fallen,' he said. 'It means Rouen is exposed to the French because Gaillard guarded the river approach. The King's lost Normandy for certain now.'

    Mahelt thought of the high castle walls at Longueville and the vista of undulating fields ripe with dark-gold wheat seen from its battlements. 'Does that mean Papa will lose his lands too?' she asked.

    Will shrugged. 'Not if he can help it,' he said, 'but it's bad.'

    5

    Montfiquet, Normandy, May 1204

    Lying on his bed, Hugh listened to the birdsong outside his chamber window. The rich warble of a thrush in the cool dawn air swelled his breast with emotion which threatened to overflow like the bird's canticle. Beyond the shutters, the manor was stirring to life. He could hear voices, the whinny of a horse, the squeak of the winch winding up the well bucket. In a moment he would have to stir too and join the bustle, knowing that by the time the sun was warming the spring grass, this place would be a memory he could never again refresh - unless a miracle happened.

    He turned his head on the pillow to look at Nicolette. Her hair was a dark, deep red that reminded him of cherries and her mouth was soft and sweet.
    He could never get enough of kissing her. They had left the shutters open last night on a sky thick with stars, and had made love knowing that when morning came, their lives would not mesh again. He knew he was only one of several select clients, including a bishop and a wealthy wine merchant, but even so there was an affection between them that extended beyond the exchange of payment for exquisite services rendered.

    As if sensing his scrutiny, she opened her eyes and yawned at him.

    'It's light,' he said. 'We have to go.' He leaned over to embrace her one final time and she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him hard.

    Outside the noises had increased in variety and volume. The grooms were out saddling up the horses. A woman was calling to the chickens.
    Reluctantly, Hugh drew away and, with the damp imprint of their kiss still on his lips, began to dress. She sat up and watched him, the sheet folded across her breasts and her ruby hair spilling down her spine. 'I am going to miss your visits.' She yawned again, like a cat. 'Perhaps when all is settled between the King of England and the King of France, you will visit me in Bayeux.'

    'Yes, perhaps.' He knew he wouldn't.

    When they were both dressed, he presented her with a