Desired (47 page)

At Bedford, Brianna had had a most enjoyable winter. At first she had missed the Court and still missed Joan, but she took her duties as chatelaine seriously and she found herself busy from morning till night.

The wool from the sheep brought in much-needed money and the royal treasury had paid handsomely for the stone for the new Round Tower at Windsor. With some of the money, Brianna purchased linen and she and Adele set the women of Bedford to sewing new sheets and bolsters for all the beds. She bought cloth from Lincoln so that all the household could have new liveries, and she showed the maids how to make scented candles and scented beeswax to make furniture polish.

Though Mr. Burke had planted all the flower gardens with vegetables, he had not neglected to gather flower seeds, pods, and bulbs and store them in the stillroom. Brianna decided to sow the seeds and plant the bulbs so that when spring arrived, Bedford would again blossom with beauty.

Her people had lots of food that winter. Even the peasants had meat on their table, thanks to Hawksblood’s establishing rabbit warrens, and at Yuletide, Brianna celebrated
the holy days by inviting everyone to a feast in the castle hall. They had a yule log, sang carols, played games, and presented every child with a bag of sweetmeats and a shiny penny.

They had no news from France all winter. Brianna toyed with the idea of donning a garment of her mother’s to see if she could have a vision. Because of what she had seen last time, she was filled with apprehension and put it off again and again. Finally, one evening at the end of winter, with Adele beside her for security, Brianna donned the peacock gown as an experiment.

She became very still. Her eyes looked as if they were seeing something on the far horizon.

“What is it, what do you see?” Adele asked.

“It’s not really a vision,” Brianna tried to explain. “I just have knowledge of certain things.”

“What things?” asked Adele.

“Well, I know it sounds ridiculous, almost impossible, but Princess Isabel has been jilted! Count Louis of Flanders was betrothed to her, then he fled, leaving her standing at the altar!”

“Oh no. Thank heavens we are not there to witness her tantrums. She will make someone pay for this.”

“She will make everyone pay for this,” Brianna predicted. “They are coming home. Even the army is returning for the present. Joan is unhappy, but she is smiling through her tears.”

“She isn’t ill?” Adele asked with concern.

“No, no, all is well with the child, but I think Prince Edward is returning and she must stay in France.”

“What of Robert?” Adele asked.

“He … is well … he will not be put off any longer … help me take off the dress, Adele. I don’t want to know more.”

A few days later when she was admiring the first daffodils, Brianna turned to see who had just ridden into the courtyard. She was astonished to see Robert de Beauchamp.

He has come for me!

She moved to greet him as if she were in a trance. Her mind and her body seemed to separate. Physically, she felt
numb, one foot moving in front of the other to propel her forward automatically, while at the same time her mind raced about, crystal clear and wary enough to sense trouble.

She recalled Robert had never been here before. “Welcome to Bedford, my lord. I had no idea you were returned from France.”

He fixed her with a steely gaze. “Am I, Brianna? Am I truly welcome?” he demanded.

“But of course. You will be the new lord here when we are wed.”

“We would have already been wed, if you had come to me in France. Instead, you came running to Bedford so you wouldn’t have to go through with the marriage!”

“That is not true!” she cried indignantly. She dared not tell him that Christian had abducted her, there was enough bad blood between them. Her mind reached for a plausible excuse. “Princess Isabel has never liked me and she chose other ladies to attend her in France.” Brianna felt she was on safe ground, for it was true that Isabel did not like her, and Robert would never be able to question the princess about leaving her in England.

His eyes narrowed. “I think you had no intention of wedding me!”

“Robert, that is not true. I even have my wedding gown.”

“Show me!”

The color drained from her face. He was as good as calling her a liar. He was demanding proof. Her word meant nothing to him. “It … it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride’s dress before the day of the wedding,” she murmured.

“Is this just another one of your excuses, Brianna?”

“No. I will certainly show you the dress, Robert, if it will reassure you.”

Why must I appease him?
her mind cried out, but her mouth smiled prettily and she took his arm and led him into the castle.

Mr. Burke saw that two of the men with Robert de Beauchamp were knights who had served at Bedford under Neville Wiggs. He was thankful that Wiggs wasn’t with them,
but wondered how long that would last once De Beauchamp was the new lord.

Brianna signaled Mr. Burke. “This is Robert de Beau-champ, my betrothed. Robert, this is Mr. Burke, my castellan. I could never manage without him.”

Robert scrutinized Burke closely. “Could you not?” he mocked. “Are you the one who keeps the accounts?”

“I am, my lord,” Burke said evenly. “Would you care to see them?”

Robert waved a dismissive hand. “Plenty of time for that when I return.” He had almost said, “You can turn them over to me,” but then he thought better of it. Brianna was far too skittish.
Best get her wedded and bedded before I bring the heel of my boot down
. He smiled at Brianna. Let’s see that wedding gown.”

She led the way to her chamber and lifted the lid of a trunk that sat against the wall. As Brianna reached inside to lift a handful of the delicate material, Adele cried from the doorway, “Oh, my lamb, ’tis an omen of ill luck for the groom to see the bridal dress!”

But now that his eyes had seen the proof, Robert’s sunny nature was restored. He bowed gallantly to Adele. “You grow more fair each time I see you. Can you pack up everything in time to leave tomorrow?”

Adele’s eyes sought Brianna, who nodded imperceptibly. “Of course I can, my lord,” she said with a deferential curtsy.

Brianna knew from experience the safest topic around Robert de Beauchamp was Robert de Beauchamp. “Congratulations on your knighthood, my lord. Tell us of your experiences in France.” She had said the magic words that turned him into an affable, talkative companion.

The brave deeds in battle, the glory of war, the honors and more tangible rewards were recounted in detail and lasted all afternoon. Throughout the meal and the evening, Brianna listened attentively while Robert told of the week-long celebrations planned for Windsor. The topic of jousting was almost inexhaustible and then he told her with unconcealed pride that he expected King Edward would induct him into his new Order of Chivalry, since he was the first captain to be knighted on French soil. He informed
her that their wedding would take place the day after the tournament, and Brianna, knowing she could have no objections, agreed with his plans.

All the roads leading to Windsor were crowded. Knights and their squires, riding to the tournament, shared the road with merchants who would set up booths to sell their wares and farmers with wagonloads of produce. Also in the crowds were jongleurs, members of the clergy, minstrels, fortune-tellers, and prostitutes by the score.

When they arrived the meadows surrounding the castle were filled with colorful tents and pavilions whose banners fluttered in the lively spring breeze. Before they parted, Robert said, “I will not be able to dance attendance upon you through the day, but we will be together each night in the Banqueting Hall.”

“Thank you for the safe escort, my lord,” she said dutifully, and she meant it sincerely. Robert had his faults, but he was strong, valiant, and handsome enough to set most feminine hearts racing. She would be a good wife to him and hoped fervently that once they were wed, love would blossom in her heart.

Brianna was unpacking her clothes and hanging them in her wardrobe when Adele accidentally let the lid of a trunk fall. Brianna almost jumped out of her skin.

“My lamb, I didn’t mean to give you such a start.”

Brianna saw that her hands were actually trembling. She knew exactly what the problem was.

Its name was Christian Hawksblood
.

She feared what he would do. He had abducted her to prevent her going to France to marry Robert. What would he do this time? The Victory Ball was tomorrow night, launching the week of celebrations that would culminate in the tourney. The following day she would be wed. She fully expected to be kidnapped again. She knew she would have to be on her guard at all times and decided she must never be alone.

The lists in the jousting field were set up and a new canopy erected over the lodges where the queen and her noble ladies would sit. They extended the palisades where the crowds gathered to watch the jousts, knowing there would be twice the number of spectators as the last time.

Princess Isabel summoned all her ladies, including Brianna and Adele, to accompany her to the fair. It was a magical place with its puppet shows, acrobats, fire-eaters, and performing dog troupes. Vendors sold cups of steaming black peas, paper cones filled with winkles, roasted chestnuts, and pickled pigs’ trotters.

It soon became apparent that Isabel had invited them so they would carry her purchases as she stopped at every merchant’s stall, buying whatever caught her fancy without regard to cost. She bought glass beads, hair ornaments, combs, and fans. At another booth she refused to be gulled by the fake saints’ bones and splinters of Christ’s cross, but bought a rosary made from shiny seeds with a heavy silver crucifix, said to have been worn by St. Theresa.

One booth had every type of board game known to man. Isabel chose a game of tables, inlaid with ebony and ivory, then paid an exorbitant price for a pair of dice whose spots were purported to be diamonds. Princess Joanna voiced her doubt that the jewels were real, but Isabel silenced her. “Of course they are real, that’s why the price is so high.”

Joanna rolled her eyes heavenward at Blanche of Lancaster and they moved on to admire the exquisite stockings and garters displayed by a merchant who swore he supplied the French Court. The garters were delicious confections of satin and lace, some embroidered, some sequined, others bejeweled. He had others that were decorated with fur and feathers dyed every color of the rainbow. None of the ladies could resist buying a pair and Isabel bought a dozen.

The stalls that sold swords and weapons made from Toledo steel were crowded with men, but close by was a Spaniard who specialized in stilettos and ornamental daggers for ladies. Once again the princess royal purchased the most expensive item on display, a dagger in a jeweled sheath. The ladies in Europe wore ornamental daggers and Isabel decided to start the fashion here at Windsor.

Brianna’s fancy was taken by a knife with a curved blade. Fashioned like a small scimitar, it drew her eye again and again. She was saving her money to buy paints, but began bargaining with the Spaniard, hoping she could get the knife for much less than he was asking. Finally she said, “If I wear this to the Victory Ball tonight, tomorrow all the
Court ladies will come to buy your dags.” The Spaniard saw the wisdom in her words and let her have it for only twice what it had cost him. But Brianna was happy enough. It gave her a small sense of security. If anyone tried to take her where she didn’t wish to go, she swore she would use it.

Isabel gloated, “See, I’ve already set the fashion. Bedford is copying me!”

When Isabel bought a lark in a cage, the cruel vendor assured her it would sing its throat out, guaranteed! Within minutes the princess regretted trusting Brianna of Bedford with her new pet bird.

“The cage door was faulty,” Brianna lied, her heart soaring almost as high as the little lark as it flew straight up into the sunshine.

At the Victory Ball, the gentlemen were as brilliantly garbed as the ladies. Most had given up the hip-length tabard for the short doublet that came just to the waist. This showed off the lower half of a man’s body and left nothing to the imagination. The shape of calves, thighs, and buttocks was clearly visible, but it was the bulging outline of male genitals that prompted the clergy to rail against such vanity as lewd and licentious.

Up on the dais, the Plantagenets drew every eye. The king was resplendent in cloth of gold with azure hose so tight they looked as if they had been painted on him. Of course his physique was as lithe as that of the beloved Black Prince. Tonight the prince wore his sable doublet as usual, but his hose was startling. One leg was black while the other was a stark contrast in white.

Prince John of Gaunt’s short, fashionable tunic was dagged with green leaves and beside him the ethereal Blanche of Lancaster wore a tight-sleeved jacket embroidered with emeralds. Once again, her father, Henry of Lancaster, had been chosen to be grand marshal of the tournament, and he was the only soberly dressed man in the hall in a long robe, edged in miniver.

Queen Philippa was so large with child the Court held its collective breath in anticipation of her labor. Beside her, Princess Isabel looked anything but brokenhearted. She had begun a flirtation with a young noble from Gascony
who had fought with the English at Crécy. Bernard Ezi was the son of the Lord of Albret, an English ally. Isabel did not take her eyes from him throughout the meal and Bernard responded with zeal.

Isabel needed to inflict pain upon someone. When Louis rejected her, she had been deliberately hurt for the first time in her life. The only balm that would heal the wound was revenge. She selected her victim and set out to break his heart.

Brianna and Robert sat with Prince Lionel, who was not yet intoxicated.
Perhaps he is maturing
, thought Brianna. The two men talked endlessly of jousting techniques and strategy, so Brianna was free to listen to the troubadours who strolled about the tables with their lutes and harps. A young minstrel bowed before her, then sang a song written especially for her, extolling her beauty and her virtue. She blushed hotly and stole a glance across the room where Hawksblood sat with Warrick. His face was so impassive, he could have been wearing a mask. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Surely he would not send a love song to infuriate her betrothed! Then suddenly she knew he’d had no hand in it. Christian Hawksblood would never send another to do his wooing.