Free The Forest by Edward Rutherfurd

exactly bad-looking but it was irregular; certainly her lips, which were small, weren’t straight – as if they had been slightly pulled up on one side. Her gown, although good, was too pale a shade of green and made her look even more pasty-faced than she was. A poor choice. She looked meagre, insignificant. That, Adela decided, was what she thought.
    She had no chance to observe more just then. The manor house boasted two chambers where guests might sleep, one for men, another for women, and after her hostess had shown her the women’s chamber she left Adela to her own devices. But a little later, returning to the hall and finding Walter alone there, she quietly asked him: ‘When did Martell marry?’
    ‘Just three years ago.’ He glanced round and went on in alow voice: ‘He lost his first wife, you know.’ She had no idea. ‘Lost her and their only child. Heartbroken. Didn’t marry again for a long time, then thought he’d better try once more, I suppose. Needs an heir.’
    ‘But why the Lady Maud?’
    ‘She’s an heiress, you know.’ He gave her a quick, hard look. ‘He had two manors, this one and Tarrant. She brought him three more, same county. One of them marches with his land at Tarrant. Consolidates the holdings. Martell knows what he’s doing.’
    She understood the bleak reminder of her own lack of manors. ‘And has he got an heir now?’
    ‘No children yet.’
    Shortly after this the Lady Maud appeared and conducted her to the solar, a pleasant room up a flight of steps at one end of the hall. Here she found an old nurse, who greeted her courteously, and she sat and made polite conversation while the two women worked on their needlepoint.
    Their talk was friendly enough. Dutifully following Walter’s earlier advice, she paid close attention to all that her hostess said and did. Certainly the lady of the manor seemed quite easy company in this setting. She clearly had a complete grasp of everything relating to the household. The kitchen where the beef was already on the spit, the larder where she was making preserves, her herb garden, her needlework, of which both she and the old nurse were quite rightly proud – all these things she spoke about with a quiet warmth that was pleasing. But if Adela asked her about anything outside these boundaries – about the estate or the politics of the county – she would only give a slightly twisted smile and answer: ‘Oh, I leave all that to my husband. That’s for the men, don’t you think?’
    Yet at the same time she obviously knew all the landholders of the area well and Adela found it hard to believe that she did not have some idea of their affairs. Evidently, however, she did not believe it was her role toadmit to such knowledge. She has decided what she wants to be and what she ought to think, Adela realized. She does so because she believes it’s to her advantage. No doubt, behind her mincing little smile, she thinks me a fool if I don’t play the same game. She also noticed that as she quietly stitched, the Lady Maud asked her almost nothing about herself – although whether it was because she was not interested or because she did not wish to embarrass Walter’s obviously poor relation, it was impossible to tell.
    In the afternoon they all went for a ride round the estate. With its huge fields, its neatly kept orchards, its well-stocked fish ponds, it was the perfect model of what such a manor should be. There could be no doubt that Hugh de Martell knew his business well. When they came to a long slope that led up to the crest of the ridge, the two men cantered up it and Adela would have liked to follow at the same pace.
    But the Lady Maud was firm: ‘I think we should walk the horses. Let the men canter.’ So Adela was obliged to keep her company and they only got halfway up the ridge before the return of the men caused them to turn round again.
    ‘Fine view,’ Walter remarked as they did so.
    On their return from the ride they found