“What happened to the windows?” she asked FitzWalter, whom she had invited to eat with her.
“Sir Jasper’s men, the ones he brought with him on his last visit, are a rough lot,” came the dry answer.
“Glass is costly,” Arabella grumbled aloud.
“Have you any gold?” FitzWalter queried her.
“I possess very little coin, and what I have I must keep for my trip south,” she answered him.
“Jewelry then,” FitzWalter persisted.
“I brought nothing with me that belonged to the earl,” she said quietly.
“You brought his daughter,” FitzWalter said, “and if you think he’ll not come after her, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“Margaret is my child too,” Arabella reminded him sharply. “Besides, Tavis is in the north on King James’ business. It will be several weeks before he returns south, and I will be long gone with my daughter before then. When he comes to Greyfaire—and I believe he will—you will tell him the truth. That I have gone to King Henry to regain my rights and that of Lady Margaret Stewart.”
“You didn’t have to divorce him to do any of this,” FitzWalter said. “I know the man stole you away, but Lona says you love him. If you love him, then why divorce him?”
Had he been anyone else, she would have dismissed him from her table, not to mention her service, but he was FitzWalter, the man she had known her entire life. Greyfaire’s loyal captain. Loyal to the keep. Loyal to the Greys. He had remained steadfast to both despite Sir Jasper Keane. FitzWalter would not settle for any less than the truth, and she would not give him any less.
“In order to obtain King James’ aid, it was necessary for me to yield myself to him in the fullest sense,” Arabella said. “I divorced Tavis Stewart that I might not shame him with my conduct by placing the horns of a cuckold upon his head.”
To her surprise, FitzWalter nodded and said, “Aye, then you did the right thing, m’lady. No Grey would act with dishonor. Your father would be proud of you.”
“I hope you will tell the earl that when he comes raging over the hills in a month or two,” Arabella said with a small attempt at humor.
“I won’t be here,” FitzWalter said. “Rowan will tell him, for I am going with you.”
“But Greyfaire is your responsibility,” Arabella said.
“Aye, it is,” FitzWalter agreed, “but Greyfaire is safe in my son’s hands, and there is peace between England and Scotland, m’lady. You, however, are the last of the Greys, and you should not travel without the protection of someone in authority. There is no one else with whom I would entrust your safety, and there is no one here at Greyfaire with the experience I have.”
Arabella thought carefully for a few long moments, and then she said, “Aye, you will come with me, FitzWalter, for I do need you. It is not my safety alone that must be protected, but my daughter’s as well. If the king will reaffirm my right to Greyfaire, then Margaret becomes its heiress.”
“Notif,m’lady,” FitzWalter said, “butwhen.”
She flashed him a bright smile at his words. “Aye,” she told him, “you are correct, FitzWalter.When!”
“What will you tell the people tomorrow?” he asked her.
“The truth,” she answered. “That I must go south in order to regain what is mine. That when I do I will bring their sons home. At least those who wish to come, for there will be some who do not.”
He nodded. “Aye. A few will have taken to soldiering and will find life here too dull for them. If they survive their youth, however, they’ll come home again one day and be glad of the peace here.”
“I will need more than peace to rebuild Greyfaire’s prosperity,” Arabella said thoughtfully.
“You need a rich husband,” FitzWalter said bluntly.
Arabella laughed. “Nay, my old friend, no more husbands for me!”
“Perhaps he’ll take you back,” FitzWalter ventured.
“I do not want him back,” Arabella said fiercely. “He claimed to love me, and yet he could not do this one little thing for me. No time was ever the right time to aid me in recoveringGreyfaire.My home meant nothing to him, though it meant the world to me. How could he love me and not understand that? I do not need Tavis Stewart. I have Greyfaire, and I have my daughter.”
FitzWalter said nothing more. It was no use arguing with her. Arabella had always been stubborn. Until she regained her rights to the keep, it would do no good to tell her that the orchards had to be replanted, and that sheep would make a good cash crop if they could just find the coin with which to accomplish these miracles. Greyfaire had never been the most prosperous place, but never before had they had such hard times, and that was part of the difficulty. The times were changing. This peace with Scotland portended an end to Greyfaire’s value as England’s first warning beacon. Certainly there would be small outbreaks of hostilities between the two nations in future, but FitzWalter still sensed a change.
Arabella stayed at Greyfaire just long enough to reassure her people that all would be well. She explained to them as best she could the difficulty of her situation, but most could not quite grasp her plight. All they knew was that Arabella wastheGrey of Greyfaire, and therefore the rightmustbe on her side. She was forced to leave it at that. The weather had turned fair, and the fields were suddenly lush and green with the promise of a good harvest this year. The orchards were flowering, and where trees had been taken down due to blight, the earth had been first scorched with fire to cleanse it and then laced with steaming manure to enrich it before the new seedlings had been placed carefully in the ground. They were now being tenderly cared for by several women and two elderly men.
