Warrior's Deception. Diana Hall
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Название: Warrior's Deception
Автор: Diana Hall
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
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She wagged her finger at her father. “Nothing escapes you. You know everything that goes on in your demesne. Very well, I’m not eager to hear another lecture on how I am not in the reins of propriety. We will keep the true nature of my visit a secret.”
“Beatrice will be glad you are going, and I think ‘twill do her some good. She can’t overcome her fears if she’s never given the chance to face them,” Edmund reasoned.
Lenora’s chin lowered. “She was counting on me to help her escape Matilda’s matrimonial plans.”
“Do you really think Geoffrey is the man for her?”
She sighed and leaned her head against the canopy bedpost. “I fear he is the only man for her. Never have I seen him take the smallest liberty with her. He treats her more like a brother than a suitor. But he is the only man I have ever seen her with that does not drive her to fits of terror. How can Matilda offer her up to the highest bidder knowing how Beatrice feels about men?”
“The girl is Matilda’s only asset and daughters are married off to improve or protect the demesne. I blame your attitude toward marriage on myself. I’ve filled your head with stories of your mother and me. Ours was a love as well as a political union. ‘Twould do you well, my daughter, to use this opportunity to search for a husband for yourself.” He raised his hand to silence her expected protests. “You have enjoyed your books, gardening and your time galloping wildly around the countryside. Before Louis died, I obliged your wishes, I paid the king’s fee so you could remain unmarried. Now you are my only heir, and Woodshadow’s future. Rest would come easier if I knew that your inheritance could not be taken from you.”
“Beatrice could inherit.” She searched for excuses to ease her father’s worry and still keep her freedom. “Aunt Matilda has mentioned many times the abbey she and Beatrice stayed at. The enormous library there, the peaceful gardens. I had thought to perhaps spend time—”
“Beatrice is not a Marchavel. I inherited most of these lands from your mother, but they were poor and ill-kept. ‘Twas I that built up these properties for my descendants. I have fought with sword and words to keep Woodshadow for my heirs, for you. I do not want all of your mother’s and my sacrifices to be handed over for another’s prosperity. This was not our dream.” Sir Edmund struck his chest with a clenched fist.
Lenora bit her lower lip. She rose from the bed and moved slowly to the window. Her gaze followed the ramblings of a small boy as he chased a multicolored butterfly through new spring grass in the bailey. The steady beat of the blacksmith’s bellows blended with the clip-clop of a passing draft horse and cart. The soft sound of the grooms sweeping out the stables, the reassuring neighs of her treasured white mares whispered to her. Everyone in the demesne carried on about their business, happy to be outside after the long confining winter.
Lenora thought, If my brother had not died, I would be out there, reading or tending to Silver, or working on the new herbs. Louis would be the one with a duty to provide an heir. She had a duty to her father and to her home.
“I’ll go, Father, and deliver your letter. My eyes and ears will be open.” Lenora breathed deeply. “And I will consider what you said. But please, Father, let me choose.”
Sir Edmund relaxed his tense muscles. He opened his arms, which were quickly filled by his dearly loved only child.
Roen slammed his fist against the trestle table. The crash of the waves outside the castle added to the thunder of the sound. King Henry had laid a trap for him under the guise of a tourney. His victory at Tintagel became bittersweet.
The young man with his feet propped up against the table scrambled to elude the crimson wine sloshed from the goblets on the table. “Take care, Roen! You’ll stain my tunic!” he admonished his friend. “I plan on stunning some young heiress tonight.”
“Take care? I am being cheated of my due, Hamlin, and you ask me to take care.” Once again his giant fist crashed onto the table. The wine goblet rocked, nearly toppling over. Hamlin dived across the table and successfully righted the containers before the precious liquid stained his finery.
Roen crushed the letter under his friend’s nose. “I have fought his wars, defended his castles and captured his robber barons. And this is how he repays me. Henry owes me gold, not a wife!” He stared at the wilted piece of paper. “I curse the day I learned to read.”
“Your mother did you a service. The ability to read—”
“My mother never did me service. ‘Twas not a kindness she sought, but a mark. A mark to show my father and brothers I did not belong.” Roen roared his outrage. “Henry would wish on me a conniving bitch instead of relinquishing the gold he owes me.”
“Stars! Roen, he offers you not a wife, King Henry offers you any wife you want. You can have your pick of beautiful heiress maidens.” Hamlin winked at his outraged friend. “Or lusty landed widows. I wish I could be so rewarded, but alas, I am to always be covered by your exceeding large shadow.” Hamlin’s chestnut eyes took on a resigned expression.
Roen de Galliard raised his clenched hands in the air like the talons of a hawk. Cast a large shadow, indeed he did. Both in size and reputation. At well over six feet, he dwarfed most men in England and in his homeland of Normandy. His reputation as a warrior was well-known throughout King Henry’s realm.
“And what good has that shadow done me?” Roen demanded. He didn’t wait for his friend to answer. “I’m one of Henry’s elite siege commanders. The sound of my name causes any of the adulterine lords to quake in his shoes. And do you know why?”
Hamlin pointed his finger at him and opened his mouth.
Roen didn’t give his friend the opportunity to interrupt him. “Because I never give up. They know I’ll bide my time. I’ll find their weakness, no matter how formidable their stronghold.”
How many attacks had he survived? It seemed endless. He always made short work of his enemy. Fast and brutal attacks, over and over again until the besieged lord surrendered or died in battle. Study, calculate, attack. An anthem for battle, his philosophy of life.
Hamlin jumped into his friend’s one-sided conversation. “I can think of no other man who needs a wife worse than you!” He held up a hand to check Roen’s outburst. “You are happiest when planning and executing a battle. Do you wish to give up such challenge when you are landed?”
“Do not be foolish! Of course not!” Roen thundered.
“Then will you remain landless? Never to be a senior, always a landless juvenis,” Hamlin countered.
“You know I wish a keep of my own. There will be no inheritance from Normandy, my mother saw to that. You have known me since we were pages. Why ask questions you already know the answers to?”
“To make you see that a wife is the answer to your needs. I see it and the king sees it. You’re too stubborn to see the practicality of a wife. Who will oversee the needs of your villeins and keep the servants in line when you СКАЧАТЬ