Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine (reading an ebook TXT) 📕

no such fears about you on the eve of his wedding!" He glanced at her sideways, "But then, " he went on, following his own train of thought, "I must have sons. It is imperative that I secure my own line... " He stopped abruptly. "Are you coming to my brother's coronation, madam?"

She smiled, relieved by the sudden change of mood. "You must know, surely, that women are not invited, Your Highness. It appears the king does not share your appreciation of the female sex. "

John snorted. "True. The king wants it to be a sacred occasion. I would have women if it were my coronation. Women everywhere! If ever I am crowned, Matilda, you shall attend me. I swear it. " He threw his arm around her shoulders roughly and reached across to kiss her cheek. Then before she had a chance to struggle he released her abruptly and with another lightning change of mood turned away from her. "You know that my brother is to marry at last? It was agreed before my father died. He and Alice, the daughter of the King of France, are to marry. " He gave a cynical laugh. "My father no longer needs the lovely Alice to comfort him, so he felt he could at last spare the lady to her rightful betrothed and honor the agreement with King Louis. "

"Sir!" Matilda was shocked. "I can't believe that there was any truth in the rumors that your father loved Alice. Why, that's almost incestuous, his own son's betrothed. I'm sure you don't really believe it either. "

John merely shrugged. "My father was a passionate man. A great man in many ways. " He was thoughtful for a moment, gazing up at the burning heavens. "He was a good king, my father. "

Matilda stirred uncomfortably. She wanted to return to her tent. The prince's moody company made her nervous; the camp seemed totally deserted. She wondered too what he was doing out here by her tents quite unattended, and almost as though he had read her thoughts he smiled at her again, throwing off his reverie. "The banqueting hall was too hot for me. A stag-night roister is all very well, but if the groom melts clean away before he gets to his bride it defeats its purpose, so I came out. Half the good fellows in there were asleep, your husband among them. The others are too hot to care, and if they do, they suspect me of going to find a final friendly bed for the night. " He laughed again, a dry mirthless laugh. "My last night with a real woman, before I have to commit adultery to gain satisfaction from my bed. "

Another slight breeze stirred the pennants hanging above the tents and gently moved the skirts of Matilda's kirtle over the ground, which was beginning to gather dew. She felt herself grow suddenly cold. Taking a step away from him, she quietly closed her fingers on the folds of her kirtle, holding it clear, ready to run. She took a deep breath. "It is late, Your Highness, and I attend your bride early in the morning. If you will excuse me.... "

"I have not yet thanked you for your wedding gift, " he went on, as if she had not spoken. "Three hundred cows and a fine Hereford bull, they tell me. " He smiled, his eyes blue slits, catlike, in the dark face, one eyebrow slightly raised. "I'll wager that was your choice, Lady Matilda. I sense a touch of irony there. No, my lady, I'll not excuse you, not yet. "

His hand reached out, touching the shoulder of her gown. "Why do you fear me?" he said softly. "I've not harmed you. " His hands were on her shoulders, gently pulling her toward him. They were strong hands, the hands of a man.

She raised her eyes to look into his face. There was no sign there of the boy she had so disliked, nor the importunate adolescent who had accosted her at Winchester. These thin, arrogant features were those of an adult, and, she suddenly realized, alarmingly attractive.

"Your Highness. " She tried to draw back, but he was holding her too hard, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arm. His face was close to hers.

"I have not dismissed you, my lady, " he breathed. "Nor do I intend to, yet. "

Mesmerized by the intense blue of his eyes, she felt her lips meet his at last with a shock of recognition. For a moment her body seemed to cleave to his, then abruptly his strange spell was broken as a voice rang out cool and loud from the dark near them. "Good evening, Your Highness, my lady. "

John released her with an oath and whirled around, his hand flying to the hilt of his dagger.

A figure had stepped out of the shadow of one of the pavilions and, coming nearer, bowed low. As he stood up again, tall and slim beside the figure of the prince, Matilda saw with a sudden gasp that it was Richard de Clare.

Richard bowed to her formally and distantly, and then turned again to the prince, grinning. "We missed you in the hall, sir, and some were growing worried. "

"Indeed, Lord de Clare. " John's voice was low-pitched and very cold. "It was good of you to volunteer to find me. As we are so soon to be brothers-in-law perhaps you felt a family feeling of protection?"

Richard colored a little at the note of sarcasm, but he bowed amiably enough. "Shall I walk with you, sir? Lady Matilda looks tired. I'm sure she's anxious to get some rest. "

Recovering herself as best she could, Matilda swept a deep curtsy to the prince, then she turned toward her own quarters, picking up her skirts as soon as she was out of sight, and careless of her dignity, ran toward the safety of her tent.

It was already growing dark, and