“There is nothing worse than a Saxon with a grudge,” Richard said. “There is nothing you can say or do to convince him that he is not being discriminated against solely because he is a Saxon. The fact that the law may be in the other person’s favor means nothing. You are ruling against him because you are Norman and he is Saxon, and he will not be convinced otherwise.”
Richard’s eyes flicked to his cup, and Alan hastily stepped forward to pour him more wine.
“Most Saxons do not have the lands or the wealth that Edgar Harding has,” Hugh said. “His grandfather was one of the few Saxons to whom King William showed favor after he conquered England.”
A memory stirred in Alan’s mind, and he frowned.
Richard noticed. “Is something wrong, Alan?”
“Nay, my lord.” Alan hesitated, then decided that since he had been asked, it might be best to bring it out. “It is just that Edgar Harding was standing next to me on the day that Lord Gilbert entered Lincoln, and he said something that was…well, strange.”
Richard’s big hands cradled his wine cup. “What was that?”
Alan said in a rush, “He called Lord Gilbert a bad name, my lord, and said that he had done injury to him. He said that there would always be bad blood between the de Beauté family and his own.”
“Injury?” Richard said. He glanced at his father. “What injury could Edgar have been speaking of?”
“He must have meant that land dispute,” Gervase said.
Hugh, who had been sitting very still, suddenly shifted in his chair.
“What land dispute?” Richard asked.
Gervase pushed his trencher away from him, signifying that he was finished. He picked up his wine cup.
“A number of years ago there was a lawsuit between the de Beautés and the Hardings over a piece of land that both claimed they owned,” he told his son. “The land in question wasn’t all that prosperous, but the point was that both families were convinced that it belonged to them. The suit went on forever, and the king himself finally ruled on it three years ago. He gave the land to Lord Gilbert.”
Hugh said, “The land had been farmed since before the conquest by dependents of the Hardings, and Edgar swore that it was granted to his ancestor by King William. But Lord Gilbert insisted that it was part of his own honor as de Beauté and took it to law. Stephen ruled in his favor.”
Alan thought that Hugh’s voice sounded strange, as if it were coming from very far away. He looked more closely at the family guest and realized that Hugh was ill.
He had eaten nothing.
Richard did not appear to notice that anything was wrong. “Why rule in de Beauté’s favor if the land had been under Harding stewardship for all those years?” he asked.
“Stephen needed Gilbert much more than he needed Edgar Harding,” Hugh said briefly.
Richard’s lips curled in a rueful smile. “Of course.”
Gervase grunted and said, “I received another interesting piece of news this afternoon.”
“What was that, Father?”
The sheriff folded his hands on the table in front of him. “The Earl of Chester is in Lincolnshire visiting his half brother, William of Roumare.”
The sudden attentiveness of the two young men alerted Alan to the importance of this piece of news.
“That is interesting indeed,” Richard said softly.
Both Richard and his father looked at Hugh.
Hugh said nothing.
Gervase said, “Is there aught we can do to help advance your cause with the king, Hugh? I would much rather have you as the new earl than William of Roumare!”
Hugh’s mouth twitched. “Thank you, sir, but that would mean my marrying Lady Elizabeth, and I have no intention of doing any such thing.”
“Didn’t you meet her today?” Gervase asked incredulously.
“Aye.” Alan noticed that Hugh scarcely moved his head when he looked at Gervase. He seemed to be trying to hold it still.
The sheriff’s tone was a mixture of amazement and exasperation. “Great heavens, lad, is she not the most beautiful girl you have ever laid eyes on?”
“She is beautiful,” Hugh agreed. “I also suspect that she is badly spoiled.”
At that, Richard laughed. “You may be right.”
Gervase said impatiently, “What the devil does that have to do with anything?”
“I didn’t like her,” Hugh said. His words were clipped and his voice still had that faraway quality.
“You don’t have to like her,” the sheriff snapped. “You just have to marry her!”
“Leave Hugh alone, Father,” Richard said softly. “He is looking exhausted.”
Hugh gave his champion a look of icy dislike.
Richard’s eyes crinkled with distress.
Gervase said, “Alan, you may serve the sweet.”
After supper, Hugh surprised the Canvilles by announcing that he was going to spend the night in Ralf’s old town house.
Gervase scowled. “Are you mad, Hugh? It is freezing out and that house has been uninhabited for over a year. Go in the morning if you want to see it, but spend the night here, where you will be warm.”
But Hugh refused to change his mind. He went to his bedroom to collect his sword, and was coming back into the solar when he heard Richard’s squire say, “I will accompany Lord Hugh if you like, my lord. He does not look well.”
Richard’s reply was impatient. “I don’t see why you should have to suffer just because Hugh has taken this ridiculous notion into his head. If he wants to spend the night freezing, let him spend it alone.”
Hugh shut his eyes for a moment. Then, moving with extreme care, he walked into the room and bid his hosts good-night.
Gervase looked annoyed.
Richard looked curious.
Alan looked worried.
It was still early evening when Hugh let himself out of the Canville house and began to make his way through the mostly deserted streets of Lincoln. Carrying an oil lamp that Gervase had provided, he went on foot, leaving Rufus to spend the night in the comfort of the sheriff’s stable.
It was not a long walk, but to Hugh it seemed endless. The headache had intensified all through supper, and now it stabbed with white-hot pain behind his left eye and up into his forehead. His stomach was unsteady, and even though he had eaten virtually no supper, he knew he was going to be sick.
He had not had a headache in over two months and was beginning to hope that he was finished with them.
He clenched his teeth and shut his left eye, and kept on through the cold, dark streets, trying not to move his head. Finally he arrived in front of a familiar door.
He had never intended to return to this house, but he simply could not bear the thought of exposing his vulnerability to Richard. And there was no other place he could go.
The town house was locked, but Hugh had brought Ralf’s keys with him. He removed the big key ring from his belt and fumbled around with his distorted vision, trying to determine which key was the right one. At last one of the keys slid into the lock and he was able to turn it and open the door.
He stepped into the hall, noting that the cold felt even more bitter indoors than it had outside. The rooms smelled the way they used to when the family returned from a visit to Keal and the house had been closed up for some months.
It was pitch dark inside, the oil lamp casting just enough light for him to make his way through the house.
The pain in Hugh’s head was agonizing. He had had headaches like this before, and he knew there was nothing to be done but to wait it out.
Walking unsteadily, he reached the narrow stairs and went up to the second floor. Blindly, instinctively, he stumbled toward his old bedroom and pushed open the door.
Hugh went immediately toward the washbasin, which was still in the same place where it had always been. He put his lamp down on the table, bent over the basin, thick with dust, and began to retch.
The violence of his nausea made the headache even more excruciating. When finally he was finished, Hugh left the basin where it was and shuffled toward the bed.