Lady of the English Read Online Free PDF

when I arrived from Louvain and everything was strange. It was such a comfort to have familiar things around me.”
    Adeliza’s voice was like a silvery bell. Her daintiness and innocent air gave her a childlike quality, but Matilda suspected there were more facets to her father’s wife than first met the eye.
    “You are right, it is.” Matilda said. “I am grateful for your consideration.”
    Adeliza opened her arms and clasped Matilda with spon-taneous warmth. “It is going to be so good to have another woman of the family to talk to.”
    Startled, Matilda did not return the hug, but neither did she recoil. Adeliza smelled of flowers. Her own mother had never used perfume. She had been strict and austere, dedicated to learning and to worshipping God in stern and rigorous devotion. Matilda had no memory of softness or cuddles from her. Any affection had been cerebral and this compassionate embrace almost brought tears to her eyes.
    The door opened on a gust of cold air and her father strode into the room. Waving aside the curtseys of the women, he stood with his hands on his hips, looking round as if taking an inventory, although she knew he must have seen most of the furnishings when Adeliza was organising the chamber.
    “You are settling well, daughter?” His brusque tone demanded a positive reply. “You have everything you need?”
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    “Yes, sire, thank you.”
    Going to the portable altar she had brought with her personal baggage, he picked up the gold cross standing at its centre and examined the gems and filigree work with a professional eye.
    Then the candlestick, also of gold, and the image of the Virgin and Child painted with gold leaf and lapis lazuli.
    “You made a good start tonight,” he said. “I was pleased with you.” His attention turned to a long leather casket on a table at the side of the altar. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked with an acquisitive gleam.
    Matilda curtseyed to the image of the Virgin before picking up a key lying in a small golden dish on the altar, and used it to unlock the casket. “I was married on the feast of Saint James,”
    she said. “Heinrich and I always kept that day with special reverence. This is mine to bestow as I see fit, and I wish to give it to the foundation at Reading for the souls of my brother and my mother.” She opened the box to reveal a hollow life-sized left forearm and hand wrought in solid gold, set upon a gem-studded plinth. The arm was clad in a tight-fitting sleeve with a jewel-banded cuff and the index and middle fingers raised in a gesture of blessing.
    Her father expelled his breath in a long sigh. “The hand of Saint James,” he said with reverence. “Indeed you have done well, my daughter.” He made no attempt to unfasten the base to look inside at the relic itself, because it would have been disrespectful to do so in a secular setting, but he touched the gold with possessive fingers. “They gave you this?”
    Matilda said evasively, “Before he died, my husband said I was to have it.”
    He gave her a sharp look. “Does the new emperor know?”
    “He does by now. Would you have me return it?”
    Her father quickly shook his head. “A man’s dying wishes should always be honoured. Reading Abbey will be greatly 25
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    exalted by this gift from an empress—and perhaps a future queen.” He gave her a meaningful look.
    She waited for him to say more, but he drew back with an enigmatic smile. “Such matters are not for discussion now.
    Settle in first and we will talk later.”
    She curtseyed to him and he kissed her brow and left the room, his tread assertive and buoyant.
    Adeliza had curtseyed too, but remained with Matilda and went to look at the relic of Saint James herself. “Does it have healing powers?”
    “So it is said.”
    Her stepmother bit her lip. “Do you think it would cure a barren