The Shadow Queen: The Sunday Times bestselling book – a must read for Summer 2018. Anne O'Brien

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СКАЧАТЬ redirected his scowl from me to Thomas. ‘You should not be kissing her.’

      ‘Why not? It is perfectly acceptable for a knight to kiss a lady’s cheek.’

      ‘But not her lips!’

      ‘I have not yet done so. She has not allowed it.’ Exasperation was setting in. ‘Princess Joan is capable of being her own chaperone. She certainly was when I left. Now, go away, Will.’

      At first he had been prepared to smile. But by now, sensing something truly amiss, Thomas’s hands had tightened around mine.

      ‘You have no right,’ Will said.

      ‘I have every right. What is it to you?’

      My hands were released when I was placed firmly to one side. Thomas was fast abandoning discretion, while Will, grabbing at his courage, stepped out of the shadows until he stood beside us, an unholy triumvirate.

      ‘I know that you will say that Joan is your wife,’ he challenged.

      Thomas’s eyes slid to mine, full of questions. ‘What if I do?’

      ‘It’s a lie. A filthy lie!’

      If Thomas was surprised by Will’s aggression he chose not to respond in kind. ‘You know nothing of what is between this lady and myself.’ He punched Will’s arm, gently enough. ‘If I were you, I’d say nothing that would reflect on her reputation. It would ill-become a knight in the making to sully the good name of a royal lady.’

      ‘I’ll say what I like. I’ll shout out the truth, even if no one else will.’

      ‘Enough! You have said enough!’ Thomas took a step forward.

      Immediately I was there between them, a bone between two dogs whose hackles were raised, whose teeth were all but displayed in vicious snarls. I prayed the teeth would not be buried in my flesh.

      ‘Joan?’ Thomas’s eye had narrowed. ‘How much does he know? Have you been indiscreet?’

      Whereupon pride stiffened my spine. ‘It does you no credit to accuse me of indiscretion until you know what has occurred in your absence.’

      ‘Then tell me. I am lost in a fog of accusation and ignorance.’

      Will retaliated with a deal of resentment and a torrent of invective. ‘We were all impressed with your fortitude. We lapped up your tales of warfare and courageous deeds, Sir Thomas. But I don’t care how brave you were. I don’t care how notable a figure you would wish to be with the white silk you wear as a banner. I don’t care how many important friends you made on the battlefield. She is not yours to kiss. Joan is my wife.’

      ‘Your wife?’ Thomas laughed, disbelieving. ‘What nonsense is this?’

      But I could see the watchfulness in every muscle braced against what was to come. It had to be said.

      ‘It is true,’ I stated. ‘I am Will’s wife.’

      ‘What?’ A harsh growl of a whisper.

      And so I explained, all in a voice as sleek as the Virgin’s celestial blue robe, which reminded me so sharply of the King’s sworn intent to honour his knights in cloaks of similar hue.

      ‘It is true, Thomas. I am Will’s wife. We were married by the Bishop of London before the whole court in the chapel at Windsor. Everyone is very pleased. My mother and uncle are delighted at their good fortune in securing this match. The King and Queen promoted it, my royal blood a gift for the loyal Earl of Salisbury, and they smile on us. There is nothing we can do about it. I took my oath. I am Will’s wife.’

      Thomas absorbed this severely pruned version of what had occurred in his absence without speech, his hands fallen to his sides, his eye on the altar as if calling for heavenly confirmation. Until I heard him inhale, saw the glint of the low light on the buckle of his belt as he moved, as he erupted into a flare of sheer temper.

      ‘By the Rood! Is my hearing compromised, as well as my sight? This cannot be.’

      ‘Most certainly it can be, Sir Thomas.’ Will was not slow in driving the knife once again into the wound. ‘My marriage to Joan is all signed and sealed with royal witnesses. Who witnessed your travesty of a match? I doubt they even exist. I think there was no legality whatsoever in your supposed union. Your return makes no difference to my legal binding with this woman.’ Will almost crowed with the achievement. Perhaps not the most tactful of responses.

      Thomas looked at him, the fingers of his right hand now clenching hard on his sword hilt. Then he rounded on me.

      ‘Why did I not know of this?’

      ‘How was I to tell you? I did not know where you were.’

      I would not admit that I had thought of sending a courier. And abandoned it as a lost cause.

      ‘How could you allow it to happen?’

      Which question I expected. I had no intention of begging for a trite understanding if he chose to heap the blame on my shoulders. But then there was no need for me to find a reason.

      ‘She had no choice,’ Will leapt in. ‘It was the wish of my family and hers and of the King himself.’

      ‘Ha! The power of the Salisbury faction, of course. How could I withstand that, even if I had been aware of the skulduggery behind my back!’ Thomas loomed over me again, so that perforce I must look up. Which I did. ‘Does the King know? About our marriage? I presume not, since nothing has been said and he welcomed me back with open arms and promises of friendship. I presume he is as ignorant as I was until two minutes ago.’

      No he does not know. What would be the value in bringing royal wrath down on my head. Or on yours. But I would not say it. There was no room for pity here. Instead, once again, I delivered the bare facts.

      ‘My mother, my uncle Wake, and the Countess of Salisbury simply swore everyone in our households to secrecy. In fact no one but our priest knew, so it was easily done.’ I hesitated, then carried on, face expressionless: ‘They all hoped you would simply not come back.’

      ‘Your mother hoped I was dead.’

      My lack of a response was answer enough. Thomas released his sword hilt, taking a moment to marshal his thoughts and his temper while Will and I exchanged a glance that was more fury than despair.

      ‘But this marriage to Montagu here is invalid, Joan.’ Thomas had won his battle with pique. ‘It cannot stand before the law.’

      ‘No, it is not,’ Will continued the flinging down of his gauntlets. ‘It is your marriage that is not legal.’

      Thomas’s hand was clenched into a fist, which I feared he might use, when once again I stepped in, gripping Will’s sleeve in a desperation of powerlessness. ‘Yes it is legal, Will. You know it is. Even our priest said it was a marriage per verba de praesenti and quite binding, even if it is a matter for disapproval. You cannot pretend that it is not. It is we that are pretending, Will.’

      ‘I suppose I should be grateful to hear you admit it,’ Thomas said. ‘So СКАЧАТЬ