Confessions

Chapter 10



The child was dead, and with it, some of my hope. I lay in my chamber for weeks afterwards, listless, mourning the one thing that might have assured my escape from my husband. The two men in my life were equally grief stricken, but they expressed it in entirely different ways. Robert drank himself into a stupor every night, cursed the wolfsheads and burned down more villages. Guy became a shadow of his former self.



It was odd really, how they both dealt with their grief. I had expected Guy to rant and rail, to be angry beyond belief at the injustice, but it was as if his feelings had been cut off; the very emotions that I had awoken in him were now as remote as they ever had been. It worried me, in the moments when I wasn’t focussed on my own grief.



There was no doubt that something changed in Nottingham Castle that autumn. The life, and the hope had vanished. I needed Guy more than ever, but he seemed to be keeping his distance from me, at a time when just one word, one touch would have reassured me that he still loved me. As the days drifted on, my insecurities grew, and I found myself wondering if he blamed me for losing our child.



Eventually, I could bear it no longer. The doctor had said that I should remain in bed for at least another week, but I was growing restless, and I needed two things more urgently; fresh air and reassurance. Slowly, each movement still causing me discomfort, I got out of bed. In a way I had been lucky-the horse could have crushed my pelvis, or my legs, but my bones were undamaged. I sustained some heavy bruising alongside the more terrible injury of losing the child, but eventually I would be grateful that I had sustained no internal injuries.



It took me a long time to dress myself. I had sent my maid away a few days ago, believing that I would be bedridden for some time and not wishing to keep her on for no reason. As a result, I simply threw on the loosest dress I could find and I quickly bound my hair back in a plait. Grabbing a shawl from my dresser, I walked from my chamber. I knew that I was unlikely to see anyone, as my husband was sleeping late after yet another night of heavy drinking and I assumed Guy was out in the countryside. He had been absent from the castle a lot lately. I assumed he was seeking vengeance on those who had a part in the loss of our child. I myself bore little ill will towards the outlaws, for they had helped me when I had fallen. My faith had always taught me to forgive, and while the pain of my loss cut deep, I blamed no single party for it.



Slowly, I wandered down the steps from my chamber, past the Great Hall and out into the courtyard. The late autumn breeze made me shiver, but the sunlight still held enough warmth to keep me fairly comfortable in my dress. I pulled the shawl a little tighter around myself and began to walk across the courtyard to the stables.



Rosa was beginning to show signs of being with foal, and I surmised that she was about four months gone, the encounter with Fury being in late July and it now being the end of November. She had always been a rounded horse, but the foal in her belly was beginning to show. Guy had grumbled at the time about having to bring her in and the fact that I had to stop riding her, as it made our treks less amiable-Fury wanted his little companion by his side as often as possible, and had bemoaned their separation loudly when this could no longer be the case. However, it was only fair that she be taken care of in her condition. In six months there would be a new addition to the stables.



I blinked back sudden tears as I drew closer to Rosa, and she looked up, sensing my emotion. Wiping my eyes, I wordlessly moved alongside her and gave her a pat. She nuzzled my cheek in silent sympathy and her warm breath stopped the slight shiver that I was developing. The stables were cooler without the sun’s warmth.



Leaning a little against Rosa, I started when I heard a muffled sound. It seemed to be coming from the back of the stables. I didn’t wish to be observed out of doors-after all, it was common knowledge that I shouldn’t even be out of bed yet, but I was curious about who was in the stables with me. Assuming it was one of the stable hands checking on the horses, I stayed silent, not wishing to alert him or her to my presence, but I turned in the direction of the sound, and had to draw in a sharp breath, for my heart broke at the sight.



Far from being out on a raid, Guy was in the stable, grooming Fury once more. He had one hand on the horse’s back, and the brush was in his left hand, but the grooming seemed once again to be more of a gesture of comfort than actual necessity. He looked so thin and pale, a shadow of his former self. His hair hung limply and even his tunic seemed to fall shapelessly from his shoulders. Fury had his head turned towards his master, a look of concern on his dark face. As Guy turned to brush the back end of the horse, I could see why. The shaft of sunlight that shone directly into Fury’s stall caught Guy in profile, and I could see that his angular face was wet with tears. The sound of his muffled sobbing was what had drawn my attention to him in the first place, I now realised.



I was torn between wanting to run to him and comfort him, and the fear of what his reaction might be if I did so. This was a side of his grief that he obviously didn’t want to share with me, and to intrude upon it might provoke anger and recriminations. But how could I merely stand by and watch the man I loved grieve like this? A decision had to be made, and I knew suddenly what it had to be. If I pretended to enter the stables again, and I acted as though I hadn’t seen him, I could make enough noise that Guy would have time to compose himself before addressing me. That way, he could save face and I would avoid the possibility of humiliating him by intruding on his tears.



As quickly as I could, I crept back to the stable door and then, making my steps as heavy as possible, I started to walk towards Rosa once more. “Hello Rosa,” I said, a fraction too loudly. “I thought I’d come and see how you are.” I ruffled the horse’s mane. She looked a little confused, but she accepted the caress.



From the corner of my eye, I saw Guy’s head snap up, and he ran a hand over his face. He turned in the direction of my voice and gave a wan smile.



“Mildred,” he said, with the barest tremor in his voice. “What are you doing out of your chamber? The doctor said that you should have bed rest for at least another week.” He strode towards me, and, to give him credit, all traces of his grief, except for slightly reddened eyes, had vanished.



“I wanted some fresh air, and to see how Rosa is doing,” I replied, weak with relief that my little deception had worked. “There’s only so long you can spend looking at the canopy above your bed.”



There was a pause. No amount of words could have filled that moment between us. Guy tilted his head and looked down at me, and I looked sadly into his eyes. We both knew what we had lost, and there was no language that could have quantified that. Slowly he drew me to him, and held me for a moment against his chest. I realised that my impressions had been right-he was barely more substantial than a ghost and my arms wrapped right around him. I could feel his ribs sticking through his tunic, and his whole body trembling. As I chanced a glance upwards, I could see him biting down hard on his lower lip, trying to keep control of himself. I wished he wouldn’t, but his tears were something I was not meant to see.



Eventually, he drew back from me, and his voice was steady. “You should go back to the castle,” he said. “It’s getting cold.” In a tender, uncharacteristic gesture, he took the ends of my shawl and wrapped them tighter around me. “Your husband will yell the place down if he finds you out of bed without a chaperone.”



“Let him,” I replied. “It’ll be the first time he’s noticed me in weeks.” The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and I forced a smile. “Besides, you’re chaperoning me.”



Guy shook his head sadly and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Even so, you should be inside.” He offered me his right arm. “I suppose we should be seen to do this the proper way.”



We walked across the courtyard together, the picture of courtly decorum. No one who saw us would have guessed what a devastating bond we shared.