Читать онлайн «Vow on the Heron»
Автор Джин Плейди
First American Edition 1982
Copyright © 1980 by Jean Plaidy
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof,
must not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Plaidy, Jean, date
The vow on the heron.
(Plantagenet saga)
Reprint. Originally published: London :
R. Hale, 1980. Bibliography: p.
1. Edward III, King of England, 1312-1377–Fiction.
I. Title. II. Series: Plaidy, Jean, date. Plantagenet saga.
[PR6015. 13V6 1982] 823'. 914 81-23438
ISBN 0-399-12708-9 AACR2
Printed in the United States of America
THE HAUNTED QUEEN
IN the ancient castle of York, Queen Isabella lay sleepless beside her lover. There was nothing to fear, he assured her. This castle of York, this great fortress which was said to have been built by the Conqueror, with its deep moat, its drawbridge and its palisades, was invulnerable. The watch from the top of Clifford’s Tower would warn them of the approach of any enemy; none could break through the massive stone walls, and those circular turrets. But it was not an invading army Isabella feared; it was the ghost of her murdered husband.
Since they had brought her the news of that night when his agonized screams had been heard, so she was told, even by those outside the walls of Berkeley Castle this terrible unease had settled upon her. Sometimes she would awake and fancy she saw a tall shape in the room. He had been a tall man and she would picture his face in the darkness distorted by an expression of hideous anguish. Sometimes she dreamed that his lips moved and that he uttered curses on those who had condemned him to such a brutal death. In the sighing of the wind she heard his voice.
‘Isabella, you are the guilty one ... you ...
with your lover Mortimer. I know he was your paramour. I know you live with him in blatant sin, you, the She Wolf of France. How long did you deceive me? How long did you plan my murder?’How long? she thought. As soon as it had become necessary. You blame me. Have you forgotten the way you treated me ... how you humiliated me and passed me over, when I was ready to love you, ignored me to be with your pretty boys? You deserved what came to you.
No, not that. No one could deserve such a death. Why did they have to do it in such a way?
She pictured the sly face of Ogle. ‘But, my lady, it was on your orders ... yours and my lord’s. No marks on his body. None must know that he had died by any but a natural death. ’
It was but a settle she saw in the darkness. It took on its own shape as her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. Only briefly had she thought it had the shape of a man and was Edward come forth from the grave to mock her. But because he lived on in her mind, he would not let her forget him and he came unbidden ... in the dead of night.
‘Mortimer,’ she whispered, ‘are you awake? Gentle Mortimer, wake up for me. ’
Gentle Mortimer sighing turned his big body to face her. ‘What is it, my love?’ he murmured sleepily. ‘More dreams?’ ‘Dreams,’ she answered. ‘Always dreams. ’
