Chapter 15
J oan and Glynis busied themselves packing for the journey to Bedford. It was like a godsend to Joan. She not only wished to escape from the possessive De Montecute, she wished to avoid Prince Edward. She loved him so much, it would be too painful to encounter him in the dining hall or even glimpse him across the Ward. She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to read his note, fearing it was a letter of good-bye. She had tucked it next to her heart, hoping it would ease the raw pain, but it had not.
“I should never have asked you for the spell to make me irresistible, Glynis. William de Montecute went straight to the king and how could he refuse when the Earl of Salisbury was taken prisoner fighting for King Edward in France?”
“My lady, I know you have little affection for William, but he is besotted with you, and that is no bad thing, especially in a husband. You must marry well, and someday William will make you Countess of Salisbury.”
Joan sighed. It was useless to rail against her fate. The king held supreme power. She shuddered. Her father had been executed for stepping out of line. She could not risk falling from favor. When their trunks were packed, Joan undressed slowly, then bade Glynis good night. When she was alone, she took out the paper with resignation, held it to the light of the candles, and read:
I am more angry at this moment than I have ever been in my life! You have been promised to William de Montecute for selfish reasons of my father, which I will relate to you in private .
You are my precious love and so you shall remain. Because we must avoid each other, Christian Hawksblood will act as go-between. You may put complete trust in him. E .
Her eyes read again and again the words: “You are my precious love and so you shall remain.” A tear slipped down her cheek before she blew out the candle. She climbed into bed, clutching the letter. She would not put it in the casket with the others just yet.
Brianna tossed and turned all night long. The day of the tournament had held so much excitement, culminating in the announcement of her betrothal, that she found it impossible to relax and give herself up to sleep. Try as she might, Brianna could not dispel a feeling of guilt over leaving Robert de Beauchamp alone to recover from his wound. Because she could not yet give him her love, she knew she should at least give him her loyalty, and deserting her betrothed in his time of need seemed disloyal in the extreme.
Brianna fell asleep an hour before dawn and the romantic epic of Tristan and Isolde colored her dreams. She dreamed that she accidentally shared a loving cup with Christian Hawksblood and became instantly, hopelessly enchanted by the magnetic Arabian. When he looked deeply into her eyes and pulled her into his powerful embrace, she went willingly, unable to resist the lure of him. When they touched, their mouths tasted of the potent wine they had drunk, intoxicating her to the point where she had no mind or will of her own. His kisses were shockingly sensual, drugging her so that she craved his mouth, his hands, his body.
Her husband, Robert, caught them together in her bower and mortally wounded Christian with a poisoned dart. Brianna cried out that she did not want to live without him.
“Approach me then,” whispered Christian, “for I feel death coming upon me, and I should like to breathe my last in your arms.”
When she embraced him, he withdrew his sword from its sheath and plunged it into her heart. Its name was Kill-bride! Brianna awoke with a cry upon her lips, but when she realized it had all been a dream, she laughed from relief. How ridiculously fanciful she had become of late.
When she stood before her mirror to braid her hair for riding, she noticed how the clothes Adele had chosen enhanced her coloring. The apricot undergown covered by the amber velvet tunic turned her hair to pure gold. Brianna straightened her shoulders and resolved to enjoy this visit to her home. It had come as an unexpected gift and she was suddenly determined that nothing would mar it.
There was a low knock upon the chamber door and Adele opened it to find Hawksblood’s squire, Paddy. “I’ve come for your trunks, ma’am.”
“You may call me Adele,” Brianna heard her say, but her next words were said low, as was Paddy’s reply, and Brianna suspected they were on the brink of a flirtation.
At the same moment Ali was collecting Joan of Kent’s baggage. The Welsh maid, Glynis, was a female very much to his taste. In her own way she was as alien as he among these Anglo-Normans who ruled England. She also had an air of mysticism about her that called to his senses.
Joan was nowhere near ready, so she told Glynis to go on ahead with the trunks and she would do her own hair. She wore a cream underdress of jaconet and over it a tunic of coral velvet. She grabbed her brush and parted her platinum hair down the back, then bound each half with coral ribbons, looping her hair so it only fell to her shoulders. Then she knotted the ends of the ribbons firmly. She pulled on her kid riding boots, scooped up the casket containing Edward’s precious letters, and hurried down to the Lower Ward. In her haste, she forgot to retrieve Edward’s last note from beneath the bedcovers.
Within half an hour of Lady Kent’s departure, a plump chambermaid handed the letter over to Robert de Beauchamp. A few coins exchanged hands and the girl slipped away unnoticed.
A frown creased the brow of Warrick’s son as he read the intimate note. He suspected his bastard brother was having a clandestine affair with the fair maid of Kent and had bribed the servant to bring him evidence. This love note, however, was from Prince Edward, who obviously was at odds with the king over Joan’s betrothal to De Montecute! The prince was clearly enjoying a sexual liaison with Joan and his bastard brother was acting as go-between.
Robert winced as he moved his wounded leg to a more comfortable position while he pondered the information he had uncovered. Dissention in the royal ranks could always be used to advantage. Secret information was ammunition. He believed it could be used to Prince Lionel’s advantage. Now that he considered the matter, Prince Edward likely wasn’t the only one furious at the betrothal. Sir John Holland was ever dangling after the little strumpet. He grimaced. John Holland was one of the most ambitious young cockerels at court. It would pay to make an ally of such an ambitious man. He would send him a note inviting him to dine privately with Prince Lionel and himself.
Hawksblood was taking a score of heavy carts to Bedford that were usually used to carry war weapons. Each wagon had two men trained in driving oxen teams. As well, the company of Cornish soldiers now under his command were riding out with him.
The ladies’ trunks were loaded upon one of the carts and the royal grooms led out the ladies’ palfreys. As Lady Bedford mounted her white mare, Papillon, she noticed with amusement that both waiting ladies were helped into their saddles by Hawksblood’s attentive squires. The horses curvetted restlessly as the entire party awaited Lady Kent.
Christian Hawksblood gave the signal to start the ox carts and they rumbled beneath the turreted gate out onto Thames Street and headed north. Brianna cast a glance in Hawksblood’s direction, imagining his impatience at being kept waiting. No sign of annoyance was visible. He looked at ease in the saddle, as if he were prepared to wait an eternity if necessary.
At last Joan arrived. Christian Hawksblood gallantly dismounted and came to her immediately. He placed his powerful hands at her waist and lifted her upon her cream palfrey as if she were thistledown. Joan rewarded him with one of her angelic smiles and Brianna told herself Joan was naturally sweet-natured and had no idea of her devastating effect on men.
The party of mailed knights followed the ox carts at a leisurely pace, through the Thames Valley, across the river past Eton College, traveling north toward the ancient town of Amersham, with its lovely medieval High Street. It had taken half a day to reach this point, and Hawksblood decided to stop in a meadow on the far outskirts for the midday meal. There was a shallow stream and the carters fed and watered their oxen while Hawksblood’s men unloaded a victual wagon and handed out bread, cold meat pasties, cheese, and ale.
Adele and Glynis looked at each other with dismay. Adele said, “I never thought to bring anything.”
Brianna said, “I assumed we’d enjoy the hospitality at one of the royal residences.”
Glynis said, “Perhaps the men will share with us. You ask, Joan. I never met a knight who could refuse you aught you asked for.”
Brianna lifted her chin and tossed her long braids back over her shoulders. “I’d rather manage without food than go begging to him!”
Her companions were startled at her vehemence.
Ali came over to help them dismount. “Ladies, if you will sit in the shade of the beech trees, a special lunch has been prepared.”
“Oh, how lovely,” Joan exclaimed. Three followed him eagerly, one reluctantly. Ali was a squire who observed every nicety. He presented them with scented water and hand towels as soon as they sat down upon the greensward. Then he opened a hamper, spread a linen cloth, and laid out game birds, wedges of cheese, cold artichokes, and tiny spiced crab apples. He handed them small silver goblets, then retired a short distance so his presence did not intrude upon their privacy.
Hawksblood approached the ladies carrying a wineskin. First he came to Brianna to fill her goblet. A vivid picture of sharing wine with him came full-blown into her memory. She recoiled from him immediately. “I will not share your wine!”
He stared at her intensely for a full minute. Under the circumstances her words sounded ridiculous. “You must drink something, my lady,” he said softly.
She jumped up, clutching the silver cup. “I shall drink water,” she declared, and headed toward the stream. The ladies were embarrassed at Brianna’s uncharacteristic behavior and graciously held up their cups for the proffered wine. After a few minutes Christian followed Brianna, determined to breach the barrier she was trying to erect between them.
“My lady—” he began firmly.
She whirled about. “Leave me alone,” she cried, putting out her hand to ward him off as if he were an evil spirit.
She was being totally unreasonable. He had not done or said anything to warrant this behavior. He decided to goad her into spitting out whatever was stuck in her craw. “I realize it is a female’s nature to be perverse, but I expect common courtesy when you address me. I will not tolerate being spoken to like some lackey.”
Green and gold flecks glittered in her eyes. “I know what you are trying to do, you devil!”
“Enlighten me, my lady.”
“You are trying to cast a spell upon me so that I’ll fall under your control, but it won’t work. You cannot hypnotize nor mesmerize me into doing your bidding!”
His dark eyebrows rose and a corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “Can I not, lady?” he asked enigmatically. His voice surrounded her like dark velvet, challenging, luring, seducing.
She looked like an enchantress from some mythic tale with the sunlight turning her hair to finespun gold.
“Be on your guard against me every moment of the day and every second of the long night, lest I possess your very soul,” he teased.
Spoken aloud, in the bright light of day, the words seemed no more than ridiculous nonsense, but Brianna knew that deep down, beneath the banter, lay a kernel of truth. He did possess a power that was supernatural. Christian Hawksblood was not as other men. She wondered briefly if there were such things as immortals. She turned her back upon him and felt him withdraw.
Brianna lingered by the stream as long as she dared, then slowly made her way back to the beech trees. When she reached the others, she saw that they were feeding a fey little creature with four black feet. Brianna was immediately diverted. “Why, it’s a ferret! I never saw one so tame before.” She laughed at its bold antics as it stood on its hind legs to take a piece of meat from Glynis, then pulled her fingers apart, searching for more.
Brianna bent down and held out the silver cup of water. The bright-eyed ferret came to her immediately and lapped up the water just like a cat. Then it began to bob up and down and chatter to her, performing what looked like a weasel dance.
“Whatever does it want?” Brianna asked, laughing at its antics.
“It wants to play with you,” said a deep voice at her elbow. She stood up and whirled about. The look on Hawksblood’s face told her clearly he, too, wanted to play with her. She blushed. “Is it yours?” she asked quickly to cover the disquieting effect his closeness had upon her.
“Aye, we’ve formed a close attachment to each other. Gnasher has fallen victim to my charm,” he mocked.
“No doubt you have cast an evil spell upon the poor little creature,” she said repressively.
“No doubt,” he mocked.
Christian wanted a private word with Joan. She looked forlorn today and exceedingly fragile. He walked beside her toward her palfrey, towering at her side. “Are you weary, my lady?”
“A little,” she admitted, her voice sounding lost.
“It’s slow traveling with ox carts, but we don’t have too much farther to go today.” He watched her face carefully, wanting to see the radiant smile when it came.
“You are most kind to trouble about me, Christian. Where will we stay?” she asked indifferently.
He set his hands to her tiny waist to lift her into the saddle. “Berkhamsted,” he replied.
Joan’s eyes widened with hope.
“Edward awaits you there,” he said low.
Joan threw her arms about his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Her smile was radiant indeed, almost like the sun emerging from the clouds.
Brianna checked her steps as she saw the intimate by-play. A searing jealousy ran along her veins like green fire. Joan hadn’t the brains she was born with. Brianna, in that moment, could have throttled her.
Paddy aided Brianna to mount, then picked up the ferret and moved on to Adele. The two chattered happily together and when Paddy mounted his own animal, he stayed at Adele’s side.
Brianna was out of charity with everyone. It did nothing to soothe her irritability when she saw Ali fall in beside Glynis. She had no choice but to ride alongside Joan. Suddenly she couldn’t believe her ears. Her friend was actually singing! Something inside Brianna snapped. She opened her mouth and the words came tumbling out in a torrent. “Joan, it’s high time someone took you to task about your behavior. You flirt with every man who comes near you. It makes you look like a shameless hussy!”
Joan, jolted from her lovely reverie about Prince Edward, stared at Brianna blankly. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t pretend that angelic innocence with me, it’s a bloody act! You can’t keep your hands off that damned Arabian, but at least you should have enough sensibility to do your kissing in private.”
“Why, Brianna, you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? That’s preposterous! I’m betrothed.”
“So am I,” replied Joan, “but that doesn’t stop me from loving another. Brianna, are you in love with Christian?”
“You must be mad! Haven’t you ever heard the gossip about him? He seduces women as casually as he would pluck peaches from a tree. Flirting with him is asking for trouble.”
“I have never flirted with him, Brianna,” Joan insisted.
“You don’t even know you are doing it. You act like a strumpet!”
“And you are acting as petulantly as Princess Isabel. It seems to me you think both De Beauchamp brothers your own personal property. Look to your own morals!” Joan replied.
The two girls stared at each other furiously. Then Joan spurred her palfrey to catch up with Glynis, Adele, and their attentive squires, leaving Brianna to her own devices.
She was oblivious to the beauty all about her. Usually she viewed nature reverently with an artist’s eye, appreciating the shimmering greenness, the silver birches, the red rowan trees. With every mile she felt worse. She felt wretched that she had exchanged angry words with her dearest friend. Anger blazed up in her. Anger at herself and at the dark, dangerous Hawksblood. He obviously would like to have his way with both of them, and Joan was too innocent to suspect him!
The light was fading from the day before the wagons, the ladies, and their mail-clad escort arrived in Berkhamsted’s bailey.
Paddy immediately unloaded Brianna’s and Adele’s trunks from a wagon and Lady Bedford led the way into the castle. “I had no idea we were coming to Berkhamsted,” she remarked to the squire.
Paddy replied, “We came here for more wagons, my lady.”
“Oh, I see,” said Brianna. “Ah, here comes that dreadful chamberlain. I hope he provides us with decent chambers this time. I don’t suppose he will be as high-handed without Princess Isabel’s urging.”
As it happened, Prince Edward had given his chamberlain very specific instructions regarding his guests’ chambers. Adele was put in her own room beside Lady Bedford’s. When Paddy put down Adele’s trunk, he asked her to sit with him in the hall. She dimpled and told him she would try her best. When she went in to attend to her lady, Brianna said, “I’m not fit company, Adele. I think I shall dine in my chamber tonight.”
“After a bath and an early night, you’ll be right as rain, my lamb.”
Brianna doubted it. She had behaved peevishly to Joan and now felt pangs of guilt. “When you order my bath, be sure to order one for yourself, Adele. I’ll be perfectly happy left to my own devices. I’ll probably do some sketching while the scenes from the tournament are still vivid in my imagination.” She hung the amber tunic in her wardrobe and awaited her bath. Afterward she put the apricot under-dress back on and stood gazing out into the twilight, trying to sort out her feelings.
When Adele brought her a dinner tray, she remarked, “That strange chamberlain put Lady Kent in another wing. But perhaps it’s just as well; you and she didn’t seem to be getting along too well today.”
Adele’s words added to Brianna’s misery. When she didn’t enlighten Adele about what had gone wrong, Adele said, “Glynis and I are going to the hall together. Joan asked for a tray in her chamber too. Perhaps it’s best you avoid each other tonight.” When Brianna kept silent, Adele bade her good night and departed.
Brianna sighed and took up her sketch pad. She began to draw one of the horses she had seen in the tournament. Its coat had outshone the plumage of a peacock. She was usually good at capturing the image of fine horseflesh. The head should be lean, the eye gray like a falcon’s, the breast large and square. It should be round of thigh and tight of rump. She looked at her sketch in dismay. “The horse that looks like a dog!” she said with disgust.
Brianna’s thoughts darted about but kept coming back to Joan. She sketched on absently, unmindful of what her fingers created. Suddenly she looked at her pad in dismay. Staring back at her from the paper was the face of Christian Hawksblood. She threw down the charcoal and impatiently washed its black traces from her fingertips. Sighing heavily, she resumed her place at the long window.
The door to Joan of Kent’s chamber opened quietly and Prince Edward stepped into the room. He wore a black pelisson embroidered with the dragon of Wales. With a cry of joy, Joan flew into his open arms and he enfolded her. She was so petite, she stood only as high as his heart. She pressed her cheek to his breastbone and felt the strong, steady beat beneath. “Your Highness, how did you get here before us?”
“Sweetheart, don’t call me ‘Your Highness.’ It sets up a barrier between us, and God knows there are already too many of those.”
“Oh, Edward, I feared I would never be able to see you alone again.”
“From now on I will make it my first priority, Jeanette.”
He felt her tremble. “I…I don’t want to wed William de Montecute.”
He dropped a kiss on her pretty hair and placing a finger beneath her chin, lifted it so he could look into her eyes. He saw them liquid with unshed tears. “My little love, you shall not marry him,” Edward said emphatically.
“But the king—”
“The king is Katherine de Montecute’s lover, he can refuse her naught. Trust me to find a way for us, sweeting.”
Joan was shocked into silence. It was thought by the whole Court that King Edward was completely faithful to Queen Philippa. She was already having another child!
“He is discreet and careful of Katherine’s reputation,” Edward explained as if he read her thoughts. “I have bought a house in London where we can enjoy time together in privacy.” His words drew a parallel between her and Katherine.
Joan’s tremble turned to a shiver. The prince’s words told her plainly that he intended to become her lover. His fingers began to unthread the coral ribbons from her hair.
“I’ve waited so long for this. At last we have all night together.” His voice was husky with desire. “Will you let me love you?”
“Yes,” she cried passionately. “No matter what the future brings, they’ll never be able to take this night away from us.”
Edward sat down in a massive padded armchair and pulld her into his lap. His lips kissed the tears from her lashes then brushed across her pink mouth, savoring the sweet taste of her. “Lord God, you’re like honeyed wine.” His kiss deepened and she clung to him, never wanting them to be parted again.
His building desire made his hands clumsy as he tried to remove her tunic, so she helped him with the lacing and sat on his knees in her diaphanous underdress. “Jeanette, you’re delicate as a flower, how can you love such a clumsy brute as I?”
“Edward, you are no brute, you are my gentil parfait knight.”
“I want to undress you. Where will I start?”
Suddenly he seemed so youthful and in that moment Joan became all woman. She drew up her skirts, exposing her stockings held in place by exquisite, pearl-embroidered garters. It was Edward’s turn to tremble as he inched the stockings from her legs. Then his hand stole back up inside her skirt to caress her silky-soft thighs.
Joan’s mouth parted as she gasped at the pleasure his touch brought her and his mouth covered hers, delving deeply, as he explored the scented alcove. His hand sought her other scented alcove as his tongue touched hers, and with a little cry she opened to his questing fingers. Edward traced the delicate folds, then slipped a finger into her cleft, seeking the jewel hidden in her woman’s center.
She drew in her breath in a rush, feeling the heat of his hand and feeling an even greater heat from his loins beneath her buttocks. Suddenly she realized Edward was naked beneath his long robe and she could wait no longer to look upon his splendid male beauty.
A wild thrill went through him as Joan’s hands reached out to part the robe and push it from his shoulders. Instantly he shrugged it from his body so that his nakedness was revealed from throat to thigh. Her small hands smoothed over the great slabs of muscle in his chest, turning his male nipples to diamonds.
She sighed with the overpowering love she felt for this prince. “You are my golden god,” she whispered.
Edward groaned with disbelief at his great good fortune. That such an exquisitely beautiful creature loved him was no less than a miracle; a gift from the gods. Her skin was like silk and he needed her naked in his lap, needed to hear the love sounds that would come from her pretty throat as his hands moved her against his hard body.
Finally the love play was no longer enough for Edward. He needed to lie with her: beside her, beneath her, above her.
Inside her.
He got to his feet, cradling her high against his heart. His rampant shaft rose up to touch her bottom and her pale, platinum hair fell over his arm like rippling moonlight.
Brianna knew what she must do. She would never be able to sleep until she had made her peace with Joan. She didn’t bother with a robe. She still wore her apricot under-dress and didn’t think anyone would be about at this hour. She walked softly down the stone passageway where Adele had indicated Joan’s chamber. Perhaps Joan was already asleep. She turned the handle slowly and the heavy door opened a crack.
What Brianna heard gave her pause. She heard the swish of cloth as if a robe fell to the floor. At the same time she heard a gasp, a sigh, a kiss. She heard the unmistakable, sensual sounds of love. A sword of jealousy lanced deep into her heart. Joan was playing wanton with Christian Hawksblood de Beauchamp, Brianna’s own Arabian Knight!
She felt totally betrayed. She swung open the door in outrage, then her eyes widened at the blindingly intimate scene before her.