Manor Arnelaine—October 1176
Manor Arnelaine—October 1176Eglantine had been certain Theobald’s funeral would be the worst of it, but she was wrong.
When she first awoke to the gray slant of rain, she had feared that she would not provide the example expected by the villeins of this small manor or—worse—that she would fail to mask her own feelings before her children.
Eglantine had managed both, though only barely, and she laid the credit before her brother’s wife, Brigid. That sweet woman was so heavy with child, so sympathetic to Eglantine’s loss, so obviously missing Guillaume, that it had been easy to be strong in her presence.
To be strong was Eglantine’s gift, after all.
Eglantine’s mother had arrived from the manor of Crevy-sur-Seine with Brigid, though nursing a cold. That woma
