‘You could still send a message yourself. My offer stands. Your father can hardly turn me in to the King now.’
‘But what would I say? I chose the Queen. I still choose the Queen. I doubt that he’ll ever forgive me for that, but at least she values me. She relies on me, too, and she cares about me, more than my real mother ever did.’ She bit her tongue. ‘I know that I shouldn’t say such a thing. My mother’s sadness was like a kind of sickness. Some days I hate her for it, other days I pity her, but every day I wish that I’d stopped her.’
‘How could you have done that?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe if I’d spoken to her more, tried harder to make her happy, but after a while, I stopped trying. We all did, but I’ve always felt guilty, as though I failed her.’
‘Sometimes nothing you can do or say to a person makes any difference.’
She lifted her brows, alerted by something in his voice. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Because I know.’ He turned his head to look out of the window. ‘It’s true that I have my mother’s family name, but not because her family wanted me. As far as they were concerned, I ruined her life and brought shame on them all. Maybe I did. Obviously she felt the same way because she took me to Ludlow Castle when I was six years old and left me there.’
‘You mean she abandoned you?’
‘Not quite. She spoke to someone. I don’t know what was said, but they took one look at my face, presumably recognised me as a Mortimer by-blow, and that was that. She never even said goodbye. That was the day I learnt never to trust anyone.’
‘Henry, that’s terrible.’ Her heart wrenched at the thought of him as a small boy, abandoned by the one person he ought to have been able to trust the most. No wonder he was so cynical.
‘When I think of Lady Cecily and how determined she was to come back to England, to see her sons one last time...’ He shook his head. ‘I never saw my mother again, but when she left, it was like she took a part of me away with her, too. It took me a long time to feel anything but hollow inside. Even now, there are times...’
‘I understand.’ She touched his hand when his voice faltered. ‘You loved her.’
For almost a full minute she thought that he wasn’t going to answer and when he did, his voice sounded different, not like his own. ‘Yes. It still wasn’t enough.’
‘What about Mortimer?’
A muscle twitched in his jaw, subtly but distinctly. ‘What about him?’
She followed his gaze out of the window, towards the Tower in the distance. ‘You always talk as if you don’t care about him, but then why did you help him escape? Why take the risk?’
He shrugged. ‘Because sometimes risk is worth the potential reward. And I suppose I didn’t want him to be executed. He’s never acknowledged me, but he still took me in when he could have left me to fend for myself. It was a debt that needed paying. As for caring, it’s not like that. He would never send his legitimate sons to the places he sends me. They were all knighted at the coronation while I got to stand at the back and watch.’ His lip curled. ‘I don’t know whether or not he’s my father, but he’s all I have, as pitiful as that sounds. And the worst part is that he doesn’t see me as anything more than a servant.’
‘Then he’s a fool.’
A flicker of a smile passed over his face. ‘Then it seems we both have less than perfect parents. We both know what it’s like to feel unwanted.’
She leaned sideways, forcing herself into his line of vision. ‘At least we want each other.’
‘Yes.’ The flicker spread into a real smile. ‘Yes, we do. Now don’t let your pie get cold.’
She took a bite reluctantly, then moaned with satisfaction as the juices hit her tongue. Despite the serious subject of their conversation, she felt ravenous all of a sudden. ‘Mmm. This is delicious.’
‘I told you, the best pie shop in London.’
‘Now I believe you.’
He let his gaze linger on her mouth a few moments longer than necessary before pushing his stool back and heading to the counter for two cups of ale. ‘You can have another pie if you like?’
‘No, thank you.’ She was already licking her fingers. Tempting as the idea was, she felt pleasantly satiated and she didn’t want to spoil it. ‘That was perfect.’
‘Good. In that case...’ he passed her one cup and lifted the other ‘...to us.’
‘To us,’ she repeated, feeling a warm glow in her stomach that had nothing to do with the pie. ‘And afternoons of freedom!’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Henry chewed slowly on his pie, inwardly chiding himself for not having noticed Mathilde’s fear of the water sooner. He ought to have realised in Paris, but he’d been so preoccupied with thoughts about kissing her that evening that he’d forgotten all about her sudden panic on the riverbank. If he’d only remembered, it would have stopped him from making such a potentially monumental mistake today. As venues for their afternoon of freedom went, he could hardly have brought her anywhere worse, and yet, despite that, he was glad that they’d come, as though the river itself had somehow drawn them closer together. He felt honoured, too, that she’d trusted him enough to talk about her mother, although he’d been somewhat unnerved by the way she’d spoken about the Queen afterwards, as if she thought of her as some kind of replacement, someone to whom she could prove her worth after what she considered her failure. He understood the impulse, but as mother figures went, Isabella wasn’t exactly the safest choice, especially now...
He glanced surreptitiously across the table, seized with a strong urge to protect her. She was already far too dependent on Isabella. If she was right about her father, then she had no home to return to if things went wrong at court, which, thanks to Mortimer and the Queen’s increasingly grasping and autocratic behaviour, he was starting to think was a distinct possibility. The great future that everyone had expected and believed in already seemed under threat, just a few months in. He hoped that things would settle down soon, but if there was trouble then Mathilde would be vulnerable... Just the thought of it turned the pie to lead in his stomach.
‘Mathilde...’ He tossed the last piece of crust out of the window for a passing gull to enjoy, coming to an impulsive decision. A risky one, but one that still, strangely, felt right. ‘There was another reason I invited you to come out with me today. I wanted to tell you something.’
‘Mmm?’ She tilted her head to one side, her expression a hundred times more relaxed than when they’d first sat down. ‘It’s not that you’re leaving again, is it?’
‘Ah. Well...’
‘Oh.’ Her face fell in a way that made him want to leap over the table and gather her in his arms.
‘The Scots have begun launching raids into the borders. Mortimer’s riding north with an army and I have to go with him.’
‘I see.’ She gave a sad-sounding sigh. ‘I’d hoped that all that was behind us.’
‘So did I, but that wasn’t what I wanted to tell you either. I have some good news for once. Mortimer’s granted me a manor as a reward for my service.’
‘Henry, that’s wonderful!’
‘The property isn’t large, but it’s a good one. East of Ludlow, towards Worcestershire. It’s a start.’
‘Just a start?’ She laughed. ‘How many manors do you want?’
‘Several. I want to be a man of fortune, of rank even some day. I want...’
‘What?’ She prodded when he hesitated.
‘A knighthood.’ He cleared his throat after the word. ‘Although I know that sounds ridiculous.’
‘No, it doesn’t. If anyone can do it, then it’s you.’
‘Thank you.’ He inclined his head, grateful to her for not mocking. ‘Until then, a manor house east of Ludlow is all I can offer, but it’s your home, too, if you want it.’
‘What?’ Her mouth dropped
open. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You could marry me.’
‘Marry?’ She looked so stunned that he was half tempted to laugh. ‘I don’t understand. Are you asking me to marry you?’
‘I don’t see anyone else here.’
‘But I thought it was impossible?’
‘It was. Before.’
‘I’ve no fortune, no dowry, nothing at all.’
‘And I’m a bastard, but at least now I’m a bastard with a house and land of his own.’
‘It’s just all so sudden. I didn’t expect...’
He clamped his brows together. ‘Did you think I was only amusing myself with you? That my intentions weren’t honourable?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then were you amusing yourself with me?’
‘No! I just didn’t think that marriage was a possibility for me—us—not for a long time anyway. I thought that I’d be like Katharine and simply remain in the Queen’s service.’
‘Is that what you want?’ His spirits sank with disappointment. ‘Are you so much the Queen’s lady?’
‘No... I only thought there was no alternative. That’s why I promised to—’ She bit her lip abruptly, a shadow passing over her face.
‘Why you what?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She gave her head a small shake as if to push the thought, whatever it was, away. ‘The point is, we’ve never spoken about marriage before.’
‘I never had a manor before.’
‘We’ve never even talked about how we feel, not really.’
‘Feelings aren’t something I’m used to talking about.’
‘But don’t you think, if we’re considering marriage, that we ought to discuss them a little?’
‘Mathilde...’ He took a deep, steadying breath. In all honesty, feelings were the last thing he wanted to discuss. Talking about his mother had stirred up enough of the long-ago heartache he preferred to forget and besides, what he was suggesting at that moment was more of a practical arrangement, for her protection and his peace of mind... ‘Maybe I’ve been a spy for so long that I’m not very good at showing my emotions any more, but you know that I care for you. I think that you care for me, too, and there’s something between us, isn’t there? Some connection that makes it impossible for us to stay apart?’
‘Yes.’ Her lashes dipped. ‘I think there is, too.’
‘Then let me give you my vow. This isn’t how I would have chosen to ask. I wanted to wait until I had more to offer, but I want you to be safe.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be safe?’
‘Because the future might not be as stable or peaceful as we hoped. At least this way, if anything happens to me in Scotland, you’ll have somewhere to go. My manor will become yours.’
‘Don’t talk like that. Nothing’s going to happen to you.’
‘I hope not, too, but there’s no harm in taking precautions.’
‘I’m not your responsibility. You don’t have to marry me just to protect me. I’ll be with the Queen.’
‘That’s what I’m worried about.’
‘Don’t!’ Her eyes widened with a look of outrage. ‘Don’t talk about her like that.’
‘Mathilde, I hope that I’m wrong, but you have to admit her behaviour since the coronation hasn’t been very encouraging. It hasn’t endeared her to the barons either. She’s claimed so much land that she’s almost as rich as the King himself.’
‘Some of that was her dowry lands.’
‘Exactly. Some. And then there’s Mortimer. You know he’s claimed Chirk for himself now?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘It was his cousin’s land. He disinherited his own cousin.’ He clenched a fist on the table. ‘They’re beginning to act as if they’re the rulers.’
‘They’re regents.’
‘Regents while both the old and new King still live. It’s not right. They rule in the new King’s name and consult him on nothing.’
‘They include him in their councils.’
‘Their official councils, yes, but most decisions are taken by Isabella and Mortimer alone. There’s unrest among the barons already.’
‘All of this won’t be for ever. The King will be fifteen before long. Soon he’ll be able to rule in his own right.’
‘Aye, but until then, they won’t give up even the tiniest shred of power.’
‘But they will eventually. The Queen will do the right thing when the time comes, believe me.’ She leaned across the table as if she were trying to convince him with her closeness. ‘A corrupt king has been deposed and a good king set in his place. Surely the worst is behind us?’
‘I hope so.’ He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck, wondering how they’d got into an argument about Isabella when he’d been trying to propose. ‘But just in case, if we marry before I leave for Scotland then I’ll know that you’re safe no matter what happens. Please, Mathilde, marry me today.’
‘Today?’ She laughed as if he were joking. ‘That’s impossible. I can’t marry without the Queen’s permission.’
‘There’s no time for that and this might be the only opportunity we get. It won’t even take long. There’s a goldsmith at the other end of the bridge and a chapel in the middle. We can buy a ring, say our vows and be back at the castle before it gets dark. As long as we have witnesses here, no one else need ever know.’
‘So...’ Her expression shifted, her eyes brightening with something like excitement. ‘You mean we could get married in secret?’
‘Yes.’ He sat forward, too, so close that their faces were almost touching. ‘We can ask Mortimer and the Queen for their permission when I get back from Scotland. The only way they would ever discover we were already married is if anything happened to me.’
‘So we wouldn’t ask their permission until the fighting was all over, when the country was finally settled?’
‘Exactly. Then the only problem would be if they refused.’
‘Why would they refuse? You have a manor now.’
‘The Queen still might not think I’m good enough for you.’
‘Then I’d tell her that you are.’ Mathilde waved a hand dismissively. ‘She’d listen to me, I know it.’
‘Well, then?’
She reached for her plait, her expression thoughtful as she twined it slowly between her fingers. ‘Until all this is over...’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ She dropped the plait again. ‘So if we were to get married today, would we really be married? Would we have to lie together?’
He shifted on his stool, wincing at her choice of words. ‘There would be no have to anything. It would make the contract more binding since no one could call the marriage into question afterwards, but I would never ask you to do anything you didn’t want to.’
‘Oh.’ She bit down on her lower lip, chewing it in a way that sent a stab of lust straight to his groin.
‘Mathilde?’ he prompted her after several seconds without an answer, unable to bear the tension any longer.
‘Hmm? Oh...’ She released her lip, her cheeks flushing a dusky shade of pink. ‘I was just thinking... What if I were to get with child?’
‘We’d have to be careful.’
‘Do you want to lie together?’
He stared back at her, uncertain about what to do with his expression as every nerve in his body cried out an affirmative. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘I don’t know. Is it?’
‘Mathilde, when we kiss, can’t you tell?’
‘We haven’t kissed for a long time.’
‘Oh, hell!’ He practically leapt over the table, hoisting her into his arms and kissing her in a way that left, he hoped, no doubt of his desire for her. ‘There. Believe me now?’
‘I...yes.’ Her gaz
e was slightly unfocused.
‘So?’
‘So I think I’d like to be married properly, too.’
‘In that case—’ He smiled and lowered his head again, only to find one of her fingers pressed against his lips.
‘Except that you don’t trust me.’
‘What?’
‘You said so earlier, that you don’t trust anyone, even though you’re always telling me to trust you. That ought to work both ways, don’t you think?’
He rubbed a knuckle over the bridge of his nose, feeling as if he were being led into a trap. Caring was risky enough, but trust gave her even more power to hurt him. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Well then, that’s my condition. I’ll marry you, properly, if you can honestly say that you trust me, too.’
‘It’s not that I don’t trust you.’
‘Not good enough. You have to say that you do.’
‘I’m already offering you my protection.’
‘Which I appreciate.’
‘Some women would be grateful.’
She pulled away, her eyes flashing. ‘I won’t marry you out of gratitude.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ He ground the words out. ‘I know it’s not exactly an honour to marry me. You could do much better.’
‘I didn’t say that I wanted better. I only want trust.’
‘All right. I just need a moment.’ He drank up the last of his ale, walking up and down the small room half a dozen times before coming back to sit down again.
‘Is it so hard?’ She looked almost sympathetic.
‘Harder.’ He placed both of his hands down flat on the table, staring intently at the space between them. He already knew the truth, but saying it aloud made it more real somehow. More threatening, too, as if the ground were shifting beneath his feet. ‘Lady Mathilde Gosselin, I...trust you.’
‘Thank you.’ She placed her palms softly over his knuckles. ‘In that case, Henry Wright, I would be very happy to marry you.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘I can’t believe we’ve only been gone a few hours.’ Mathilde turned a smiling face up to Henry, her footsteps slowing as they approached the front gates of Westminster Palace. ‘It was certainly an interesting tour of London. I never expected to be married by the time we got back.’
Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Page 60
