by Holby Cindy
Elaine fumbled with the clasp of the heavy crucifix that had come to her from her father’s family. Khati ceased her examination of the wimple and fastened the chain about her neck. Her father had been orphaned while a squire and only possessed a few items of value, the cross being one of them. It hung heavy against her breastbone and seemed to weigh her down, yet she wanted to wear it, because it had belonged to him. Rhys now wore her father’s ring of emerald and gold. She twisted the one he’d given her about her finger and wondered if there was some tale behind it. The band was quite plain, as it was not embellished with a stone, yet she found that it suited her much better than a heavy ring. She forgot she wore it at times, until it caught her eye, and then she would study the intricate carving and melding of silver and gold and marvel at the artistry.
Khati smoothed her long braid. “It seems a shame to cover your hair.”
Eliane shrugged. “It must be done. If my ears are discovered, it will only lead to unpleasant questions. It is a risk we cannot take.”
“Milord de Remy will not care for it,” Khati said.
“Why do you think so?” Eliane looked over her shoulder at Khati as the maid tied a piece of ribbon about the end of her braid.
“Do you not notice how he looks at you? How he touches your hair every chance he gets?”
No, she had not. She only noticed that he did not touch her or kiss her as he had done at first. Yet, when thinking on it, she knew there were instances when he would pick up a lock of her hair and rub it between his fingers. There were times when she would turn and his eyes would be upon her, with a strange look in them.
“As much as I desire to please my husband, I must wear it, Khati,” she said. “There are many travelers on the road who would carry tales to the king, and I would not have the secrets of Aubregate revealed.”
Khati put the linen veil in place over her hair and brought the fabric strap beneath her chin before tying it in place on the side. Eliane put her hands on it. “I would much rather wear my wool cap. I feel as if a stiff wind will take me into the sky.”
“Do you think that whoever decreed this a fashion suffered from an overabundance of chins and found this the best way to hide them?” Khati’s voice held a hint of laughter. Unlike her mistress, she was excited about seeing the city and all it held.
“I am certain it is so,” Rhys said from behind them. He’d entered the tent without Eliane’s noticing. How much had he heard? He walked to where she sat upon a stool and flipped up the end of the fabric. A wry smile flitted across his lips. He was dressed in the same clothing he’d worn for their wedding. A tunic of dark burgundy over a white linen chainse and gray chausses with black boots. His hair was damp and neatly brushed back from his face, and his jaw was smooth and clear of stubble. He was very handsome and well he knew it. Father asked me if there was anyone I would choose. I wonder if he asked the same of Rhys. Was there a woman waiting for him to return? Would her heart be broken when she learned of his marriage? Sliding the knife into her boot had been the right decision. Knowing it was there steeled her resolve for what was to come.
“Is my dress appropriate for meeting the king?” Eliane rose from the stool so that he might see her costume better. He looked her over, from head to toe, his gaze lingering long on her face. Her hand went to the wimple, its feel strange upon her head and beneath her chin. She resisted the urge to stick her finger beneath the band.
“The king will be swept away by your beauty,” he said. She studied his face and saw that he spoke what he believed to be the truth, although his eyes seemed sad.
“Are you troubled, milord?”
He nodded. “Only about the usual things that a husband must deal with. I find that I now have many to provide for, where in the past the only needs I considered were mine own and sometimes Mathias’s.” His tone said he was teasing her.
Still, Eliane did not want him to be burdened by their care. “I have brought funds,” she began.
“Fear not, Eliane,” he assured her. “That is the least of my troubles. There are things we must discuss before we arrive. Things you should know about life at court. We will talk as we ride. Cedric will follow with the cart and meet us later. It would be best if Llyr stayed with him also.”
Eliane nodded her agreement. She would have to tie the dog to keep him from following her.
Rhys interrupted her thoughts. “I think it best if we find a house in London instead of staying at court.”
It pleased her that he included her in his plans, but his idea gave her some concern.
“Will the king permit it?” There was much she did not know about court life. It seemed Rhys felt some trepidation about their visit. How long will we have to stay? Renting a house seemed to indicate a lengthy stay. She had hoped to return to Aubregate before the spring planting. Once more she realized that her will was no longer her own. My people are depending upon me…
“He will if I ask in the proper way and remind him of your father’s devotion.” He held up his left hand and her father’s ring. “This should help to remind him.”
Khati placed her cloak around Eliane’s shoulders. Rhys looked remorsefully at her head. “I would throw that in the fire if anything else could serve the purpose so well.”
“Should I?” she teased him, placing her hand against the fabric as if she would snatch it off.
“Nay.” His eyes were gentle on her face. “I fear it would only make your beauty more evident and therefore a target of those who are not as blessed.”
She smiled at his words. He thinks me beautiful. She would remember his words when she saw the women at court and hoped that he still thought them true.
Rhys led her from the tent to where their horses waited. “A sidesaddle?” Eliane asked when she saw Aletha. “For me?” Peter had the sense to turn his head, yet she saw his shoulders shake with laughter.
“Cedric said there was one in the stable, so I bade him bring it.”
“Are all ladies of the court so helpless that they cannot ride astride? It is safer than sliding off,” she protested. Why should she suddenly change the way she sat her horse? She understood the need to hide her ears, but riding sidesaddle?
“It’s not concern for their helplessness as much as it…er…” Rhys’s face turned dark red as he looked at her, then at Peter, who no longer hid his laughter.
Of what does he speak? Eliane looked from Rhys to Peter as her husband fumbled with an explanation.
“ ’Tis a matter of modesty and…er…virtue…”
“Virtue?” Eliane looked at the sidesaddle, which seemed strangely out of place on Aletha’s back, at her husband, whose skin had flushed as dark as his burgundy tunic, and at Peter, who laughed so hard that he was about to fall from his horse. Virtue? “Oh.” She felt the heat rise to her face and knew once more that her coloring gave away her embarrassment. “You have no doubts…” She could not bear to look at him, so she turned away. The humiliation of their wedding night was fresh in her mind, along with her failure.
“Nay!” Rhys grasped her arms, forcing her to look at him. His dark eyes were earnest as he gazed upon her. Implored her. “The proof was there and I would slay any who says otherwise.”
She searched his face, gazed into eyes that were like windows to his soul. Did his grandmother think the devil resided there because his eyes were as black as sin? Why did she not see the goodness within him and the need?
He has never known love…His parents chose death over life when he was born. His grandmother chose God over him. The story was well known throughout the length and breadth of England, but none had ever spoken of the result those actions had on the boy who was abandoned. The boy who was not loved. He had built a wall around his heart, yet he had allowed her a few small glimpses.
I want more…She had known nothing but love and found that she was greedy for it. She’d lost her mother at a very young age, yet remembered her well. It seemed as if everyone at Aubregate had tried to make up for the loss of her
mother’s love by bestowing more upon her. There was not a memory of her childhood that did not include love.
For someone like Rhys love was a mystery. Had he ever felt love at all? Was he even capable of it?
“I would not bring shame to you,” Eliane said. She would ride sidesaddle if it would spare him embarrassment. The words she spoke promised more. She would have more. She would have his heart.
If only she knew how to get it.
Chapter Eighteen
It seemed that everyone at court was awaiting their arrival. Even Peter decided to go within the great hall to greet the king instead of escaping to the comfort of his wife. Pages rushed about, carrying messages to and fro. The entire castle was abuzz with the arrival of Rhys de Remy’s mysterious wife. The objects of all the speculation were told to wait in the antechamber for the king’s summons. He wants all the players in place. Rhys could only hope that Marcella would not create a fuss and Jane not resort to hysterics, although he was certain the king would find it most amusing if they did.
“Knowing Lydia, she is inside already, where she can see all,” Peter assured them when Rhys bade him go on to his wife instead of waiting with them. Peter had proved to be a stalwart friend through everything.
“See all?” Eliane arched a delicate brow at Peter, then turned to Rhys. “Is there something else you should make me aware of? Are there more than two women who expected to marry you? I have a knife in my boot. Mayhap I should hide it within my sleeve so as to be prepared in case one seeks to bury a blade in my back?” Her tone was as frigid as the air outside the castle.
As they’d traveled the road to London, Rhys had told her of the king’s edict that he marry as soon as possible. He’d explained that the edict had made it easier for him to agree to their marriage. One of the things he found he valued most in Eliane was her intelligence. However, it had proved to be a problem when she’d asked him why the king had made such a demand in the first place. It was when he found himself confessing why he’d been given such a choice that he suddenly realized he had lost what little favor he’d held in her eyes.
How is it that I told her those sordid details about Jane and Marcella? It is not as if I meant to. The words seemed to come out of his mouth of their own accord when she turned her lovely emerald eyes upon him. And she’d reacted as a jealous wife would. Even now she caressed the hilt of her jeweled dagger as if she would use it on anyone who might gaze his way.
Or does she seek to use it on me? Once more Peter’s words about marriage and Lydia’s promise to remove a certain part of his anatomy should he misuse it came back to haunt him. I have much to learn about marriage. It was a complete mystery to him how a husband should act or what he should confide in his wife, if anything.
“Wait…you have a dagger in your boot?” Her words suddenly sank into his addled brain.
“Yes, milord,” she replied breezily. “One on my hip and one in my boot. You did say there were two women under your consideration?” Peter laughed and the men who attended the doors to the hall could not suppress their grins.
“Eliane,” Rhys said firmly. He could not let it be known that he had a rebellious wife. That would certainly be the subject of gossip.
Eliane gazed at him with her emerald eyes and he could not be angry with her. Not after all that he had done to hurt her. That damn thing on her head…It might hide her ears, but it did nothing to hide the beauty of her face, or the great green depths of her eyes. There was not a man within who would not be smitten with her, including the king. Her natural beauty, along with the mystery of her rumored deformity, would make her the center of attention. If he had to, he would prostrate himself before the king and beg so that he could keep her away from court. He was certain there were many who would enjoy seeing him on his knees.
When he did not speak, she arched her brow at him in obvious impatience. “If the king desired our presence so desperately, why does he bid us wait now?”
“He wants to make sure all those involved are in place,” Peter said. “You will find that the court thrives on intrigue and gossip. When Rhys left he was the center of much speculation. Which would he choose? Marcella or Jane? Now that you have arrived, the situation will be all the more interesting.”
The door opened and a messenger declared the king was ready to receive them. Rhys took a deep breath and extended his arm. “Are you ready, wife?”
She looked at him, her emerald eyes darting over his face. She lifted her hand to his brow and smoothed back the hair that fell across his forehead. How tenderly she touches me, even though I did nothing but violence to her in our marriage bed. “I am ready, husband.” She placed her hand on his arm and they entered the hall. He savored her touch and the trust that went with it. He had sworn to protect her and her lands. The first test of his merit was here.
All eyes were upon them. He could count three people who wanted him dead. Marcella, Jane, and the dastardly Renauld Vannoy.
They walked forward as the page announced their titles and their lands. Eliane kept her hand on his arm, and her stride matched his, her legs almost as long as his own. He was grateful that he did not have to mince his steps for her. It would only serve to show weakness if he did so. He saw curiosity on the faces of those gathered, their eyes searching her face and her limbs for any sign of her reported deformity. They would find none. She was perfect up to the tips of her pointed ears.
The king’s eyes were steady upon them also. An indulgent smile split his face as he studied Eliane. “You are most definitely your father’s daughter,” he said when they bowed low before him. Rhys shifted his arm and took her hand into his so there would be no doubt as to his claim on her. No doubt that he was content with his choice. The gossips might say it was thus or so, but those who were present would know the truth of the matter.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Eliane’s voice rang clear and true in the hushed silence. “I can think of no higher praise.”
“I was saddened to hear of his passing,” Henry added. “He was a good man and served me well.”
“He gave that same dedication to his lands and his daughter,” Eliane replied. “There was no other like him.”
Henry smiled obligingly. “Are you certain, my dear? Though Edward was a great man, there are those here who would claim that their own fathers were just as great.”
Rhys squeezed her fingers in warning. Henry baited her. There was an undercurrent to his voice that bespoke a warning.
Eliane dipped her head prettily. “I admit my opinion of my father is somewhat biased, Your Majesty,” she said humbly. “And I lack the experience or knowledge to know of any other man’s greatness save your own.”
Well done…Even though she’d been sheltered from the intrigues of court, she was a natural at playing the game. Edward had trained her well.
“What of your husband?” Henry asked. “Have you knowledge of his greatness?”
Eliane tilted her head as if she needed a moment to consider the question. “If you mean his greatness on the battlefield, then I can say yes, he is great, for I have witnessed it myself when bandits sought to take me on the day after our engagement.”
She was a wonder. She’d managed to reveal the reason for the hastening of their vows with her answer.
“If you mean his greatness in…other areas…” She blushed prettily. “I can only say that he is everything he is rumored to be, and I have no complaints, nor will I hear any against my husband.”
If he could have kissed her, he would have. With that sentence she’d disarmed the gossipmongers. She’d announced to the court that she knew of his liaisons and would not put up with any who chose to malign him in her presence. She was content with the arrangement of their marriage and would not be pleased to have it put aside. She squeezed his fingers in return as the king looked at them meaningfully and the entire court held its breath.
“If only there were no doubts as to the legality of your marriage,” Henry sighed.
Vannoy
…Eliane’s grip on his hand tightened and he saw the color leave her cheeks. Renauld Vannoy moved into their line of sight, to the left of Henry.
“Sire,” Peter offered. “Though I was not present at the ceremony, I have seen the documents and can attest to their validity and legality. I can say without a doubt that Lord Edward’s daughter has been wedded and bedded.” A few guffaws were heard at Peter’s proclamation. Eliane’s cheeks flushed red, yet she held her head high. She is strong, my warrior woman.
“Yes, yes,” Henry said. “I am certain it all happened just as you say. But why did you not wait for the banns?”
Eliane opened her mouth to speak. She faltered. Her courage, so strong for herself, failed while she still grieved for her father. Was it Henry’s intent to cast their marriage in a bad light? After Edward had done everything in his faltering power to protect his daughter? Surely Henry’s greed was not so great that he desired Aubregate. Yet there were those rumors of a treasure that Rhys had yet to see. Were they as distorted as the rumors of her deformity?
“It was Edward’s last wish that he see his daughter legally wed,” Rhys said. “He died within a few hours of our speaking the vows. Would you have been able to deny him this when it was only a matter of half a day standing in his way?” Rhys looked earnestly at his king. He could not believe that Henry would put the marriage aside, especially after all his problems with Beckett and the church. “We had the Church’s blessing,” he added to remind Henry that there was more involved here than just a few hours of time.
“Did you bring the documents?” Henry asked.
“Yes, sire,” Eliane replied. “Our good Father Timothy made a copy for you.” Rhys had not known that, yet his wife had seen the need. “They are with our man Cedric, who comes behind. I was so anxious to meet you that we traveled ahead of our household.”
