“Then do not tell us that what we desire is impossible, and seek for a way to make it possible,” Raymond snarled.
Both Richard and William looked at the young man in amazement. He had always seemed soft and pleasant to William. Even when Raymond fought, he had been easy, without bitterness or hatred. Richard had seen him nervous and distracted by worry in a situation in which he was truly helpless. This was different. It was something that was in his power to obtain and it was quite clear that Raymond intended to have his way even if every throne in Europe toppled for it and gall flowed in the rivers of England and Provence instead of water. Richard whistled softly and William bit his lip. Both saw Raymond Berenger in his grandson—and Raymond Berenger ruled Provence like a king in the teeth of the displeasure of Louis of France.
“I think,” Elizabeth said softly, “that Raymond is quite right, and Richard also. Alys has the manner and bearing to fit her for his wife. Some arrangement could be devised, surely, that would make her acceptable—”
“Faugh!” Raymond exclaimed, his eyes blazing and his hand on his sword hilt. “Is there no one here but myself and one woman who has more courage than a hen?”
“Raymond,” Alys said softly, “let them think. All here love us. Your quarrel is not with my father or Uncle Richard.”
“No?” Raymond asked, staring at Richard.
“No,” William said. “You must know, Raymond that no one here would try to prevent this marriage if it were welcomed by your parents.”
“My lord?” The question was addressed to Richard and it was a challenge.
The earl chewed his thumb. “I have an idea,” he said and, when he raised his eyes, to everyone’s surprise they were laughing. “William, I have you at last in a cleft stick, and I will have my way with you. I will be happy, and you will be powerful enough, and soon rich enough, to make Alys quite acceptable. At least, Alphonse will certainly think twice before refusing. William, you are now, as of this moment, hereditary marshal of the lands of the Earl of Cornwall. And we can find you a title somewhere too if—”
“Oh no! You can make me mind your clerks and bow and scrape at court—if that is what I must do to buy my ugly daughter a husband,” William said, “but you are not going to make me any jumped up lord of this or that. I am too old. I would never learn to answer to my new name.”
Elizabeth giggled. “I can just see it, the herald calling ‘Baron Bogus of Nowhere,’ and William looking around to see who this new Baron Bogus is…”
“If I ever came across a more ungrateful set of people!” Richard exclaimed, as Alys began to giggle also, and Raymond caught her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “But it will work, I think,” he continued, his eyes softening as he watched the happy couple embrace.
“I will work, you mean,” William said, but he put out his hand and clasped Richard’s. “I should have done it years ago. I know I should have, but…”
“Do not blame yourself. If I had asked, I could have bought him off and saved you years of grief—it was my fault!”
“It is over,” Elizabeth said. “We are happy now.”
Richard glanced at Alys and Raymond, who had moved away and were talking eagerly. “Yes, I will make it work. Sancia and Eleanor will talk Henry around. You will bring Alys to court when you come, William. She will be set high among the queen’s ladies as the daughter of my marshal, and Alys, if she likes, can charm the birds off the trees.”
Raymond came back toward them, leading Alys by the hand again. “If my aunts, Eleanor and Sancia, will write to my mother…”
“Yes,” Richard agreed. “And Henry will write to your father and grandfather… Yes, and if you talk softly, Raymond, and do not clap your hand to your sword hilt and roar at your father in public—”
William almost fell off his chair laughing. Alys whooped aloud. Raymond and Elizabeth choked, trying to be polite.
“What have I said that is so funny?” Richard asked. “It is very good advice.”
“Yes, indeed,” Elizabeth agreed, “and if everyone would take it, we may all end like the fairy tales—so they lived happily ever after.”
About the Author
Roberta Gellis was driven to start writing her own books some forty years ago by the infuriating inaccuracies of the historical fiction she read. Since then she has worked in varied genres—romance, mystery and fantasy—but always, even in the fantasies, keeping the historical events as near to what actually happened as possible. The dedication to historical time settings is not only a matter of intellectual interest, it is also because she is so out-of-date herself that accuracy in a contemporary novel would be impossible.
In the forty-some years she has been writing, Gellis has produced more than twenty-five straight historical romances. These have been the recipients of many awards, including the Silver and Gold Medal Porgy for historical novels from the West Coast Review of Books, the Golden Certificate from Affaire de Coeur, the Romantic Times Award for Best Novel in the Medieval Period (several times) and a Lifetime Achievement Award for Historical Fantasy. Last but not least, Gellis was honored with the Romance Writers of America’s Lifetime Achievement Award.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Roberta Gellis
A Woman’s Estate
Fortune’s Bride
Siren Song
The Cornish Heiress
The English Heiress
The Kent Heiress
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