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

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was doomed to disappointment.

      I knew full well what would be my own doom. Many would say that I had brought it on my own head.

      I stood outside the door, leaned back so that the wall was cold against my back, and took a breath as I willed the initial panic to subside. Until, that is, I saw in the shadow of a pillar at the far end of the chamber three figures in descending height: William Montagu of Salisbury, Edward the princely heir and my brother John, all of whom had followed me to discover the need for such a summons. They were clearly waiting for me because as soon as I appeared they began to cover the ground between us. Pushing myself upright, with what I considered to be an innocent expression I walked slowly towards them, arranging my thoughts into what I might and might not say.

      ‘What did she want?’ John demanded without ceremony.

      ‘Nothing for your little ears, brother,’ I said, but my eyes were on the scion of the House of Salisbury.

      Did William know the subject of my interview? Had he already been informed that I would join my hand with his in Holy Matrimony? It might well be. Not a word had passed his lips, but William was perfectly capable of keeping his own counsel. I regarded him through my lashes. Here, at our parent’s planning, and that of the King and Queen, was my future husband, and since I had not been sworn to secrecy, perhaps it would be a good time for me to comment on the fact that we were destined, by forces beyond our control, to spend our future life together.

      Except that sharp fear gripped my throat so that I could not force the words into being.

      But William could. He pushed John aside.

      ‘Have you told your mother the truth?’

      My eyes narrowed.

      ‘And you need not lie to me,’ he continued. ‘I know all about it. I have friends in low places. What possessed you, Joan? Had you no sense?’

      Which censure soon restored my voice.

      ‘Have you been listening at doors, Will?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Which doors?’ Edward, ignorant of what was passing between us and immediately interested, his eyes were travelling speculatively between William and me. John, interest lost, had climbed onto a window seat where he sat like a crouching gargoyle, hugging his knees.

      William nudged Edward, ignored him.

      ‘You have to say,’ he ordered me. ‘You have to tell her.’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘If you don’t, I will.’

      Of course I must tell the truth. But when I decided, not at the prompting of my betrothed. For a moment I imagined his standing foursquare between our respective mothers, announcing what I had done. I imagined the combined fury of two irate women raining down upon my head.

      I took a rapid step: I seized Will’s arm. ‘You would not dare!’

      But William shook me off, in no manner intimidated. ‘Not dare? Of course I dare. If I do not, what sort of a fool will I look, when all is discovered? And discovered it must be.’

      William could be formidable when he chose, even though our gaze was on a level.

      ‘Shh!’ I hissed. His voice had risen in pitch, to echo through the antechamber.

      ‘Tell them Joan, or I will.’

      ‘Tell them what?’ Edward would not be deflected a second time.

      ‘Be quiet, Ned! You are too young to know anything about it,’ I said.

      ‘Only because you won’t tell me,’ he replied with superb logic. He stopped fidgeting from one foot to another and for a moment looked like a royal prince and with all the pride of his Plantagenet heritage. ‘You must tell me. I insist.’

      ‘If Joan confesses,’ William said, ‘then all can be put right and there’ll be nothing to tell.’

      ‘I will tell my mother,’ I said, back on my dignity, except for the evidence of my fingers tightening once again on his forearm, making him wince. ‘How do you know?’

      ‘A page. A terrified rat who fell over me in his hurry to pack up his lord’s armour when we were in Ghent. I picked him up. He was shockingly talkative. Until his mouth clammed shut like a wolf-trap.’

      A flutter of rising panic unnerved me. Of course, William had been with us in Ghent. ‘Did the page tell anyone else?’

      ‘How would I know?’

      All I could do was pray that he had not. I released Will’s arm. ‘You must promise me you’ll not say a word.’

      Unimpressed, William strode off with the final sally: ‘I promise nothing!’, leaving Edward regarding me with what could only be described as haughty demeanour.

      ‘You should not allow Will to talk to you in that manner.’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘You are of royal blood. You are my cousin.’

      My thoughts were elsewhere. ‘The King is my cousin, not you.’

      Ned’s brows climbed, his reply was curt. ‘As near as makes no difference. You are my family. You must tell me if Will does not show you the respect due to you.’

      ‘Oh, I will.’

      And then the arrogance was gone, leaving only a young man growing into his strength and impeccable rank. ‘I’ll be kind to you, Jeanette.’

      ‘I know you will.’

      I patted his shoulder. He might be the only one who was kind when all was revealed.

      I walked with him back to the Painted Chamber, brother John running ahead to catch up with William who might prove to be better company, Edward fast forgetting his irritation and making practice sweeps with the new sword, a gift from his father and from which he was inseparable. When we arrived, to my relief, William was not there, nor was my sister, but Isabella was and must have read some emotion in my face for she gathered me into her arms in a quick embrace, stroking her fingers over the amulet at the same time as she ordered her brother to go away. Which he did with a stern nod of his head and a distinct swagger.

      ‘Did it work? Did the Blessed Virgin fill you with grace?’

      I shook my head. ‘Not noticeably. I think I would like to keep it,’ I suggested. ‘Until supper. If you would allow.’

      I thought I would need the continued offices of the Blessed Virgin Mary before this day was out. Before I could answer any more questions, I was swept up by my women. They had work to do on my person if my mother was to be satisfied. They would not let me out of their sight until I was groomed and polished like Ned’s new warhorse.

      Who were we, this royal but troubled family? Who was I, to be raised in a royal nursery, yet to be used by my mother to rebuild our future security, to repair a damaged reputation?

СКАЧАТЬ