Notorious (8 page)

With an age-old wisdom bred into her through generations of clever, wily ancestors she carefully weighed the risks involved. Her natural reluctance gradually eroded, replaced by the knowledge that the adventure that awaited her promised to be glorious. Her restless spirit hungered for excitement. Her every instinct thirsted for a soul mate.

Silently, she moved from her safe haven into the shadowy, moonlit night. She slipped between the trees to where the ground began to slope upward, following an invisible trail that lured her to her destiny.

Suddenly she saw him and stopped dead in her tracks. His black silhouette was outlined by the moonlight as he stood on the summit of the hill with his head thrown back. He was the most magnificent male she had ever seen. Instinctively, she knew the dark wolf would be dominant and dangerous, but she was ready to follow wherever he led.

He scented her presence, turned to look at her, and howled a welcome that was elemental and primal. She drew closer, answering his call, and saw that his sleek pelt was black, his eyes a fierce light gray. He took a step toward her and she growled a warning in her throat. He ignored her warning and his tongue came out to lick and taste her. She nuzzled his neck, accepting him.

Side by side, they loped down the hill, running faster and faster in a wild frenzy of joy, relishing their freedom, ecstatic that they had found each other. They covered miles of territory, over fields, through streams and woods until dawn began to lighten the sky. They flushed a covey of birds and playfully chased them, though they had little interest in hunting at the moment. The game of mating was far more pleasurable and held them in its thrall. Exhilarated by their nightlong dash, they found a clearing in the heart of the forest.

He stretched his sleek body in the grass and she lay down beside him, admiring his dark male beauty. She felt the primal heat of arousal in her belly and rolled playfully onto her back, yielding to his dominance in alluring age-old feminine submission.

Brianna awoke with a start. She sat up and saw that the first flush of dawn light was inching in through the open shutters, illuminating the lovely chamber that had once belonged to her mother. She felt the touchstone against her breast and it evoked a memory of her dream. “I was dreaming about Shadow.” A frisson of delight rippled through her as she remembered more about the dream. “No, I dreamed that I actually
was
Mortimer's she-wolf.” Suddenly, she blushed and her delight turned to dismay, for she knew with a certainty the identity of the dark, dominant male who had lured her to indulge in the reckless, uninhibited mating game.

Brianna deliberately dismissed the dream from her thoughts. This would be her last morning at Hedingham. After the noon meal, her father and brother were returning to Flamstead Castle while she and her mother were off to Windsor.

Brianna had promised Lincoln Robert that she would ride out with him before she left, so that they could enjoy a private farewell. When she arrived at the stable, she heard laughter and identified the voices of her betrothed and his brother Jamie.

“There's one sure way to make Brianna beg to marry you long before she turns eighteen,” young de Warenne declared.

“And what might that be, genius?”

“Get her with child, of course.”

Brianna was stunned at the blunt advice she had inadvertently overheard. She wanted to slap the young devil's face.

“My own thought exactly!” Lincoln replied, laughing.

Very bloody funny, I don't think!
She turned on her heel and left the stable, but halfway across the courtyard she saw the humor in the situation.
They'd die of chagrin if they knew I'd overheard them.
She wasn't naive enough to think males didn't discuss sexual matters; it was likely their favorite topic. Upon reflection she decided to return to the stables. This time, however, she made enough noise to alert them.

Lincoln Robert came to greet her immediately. “Good morning, sweetheart. I've saddled Venus for you.”

“How thoughtful you are. Good morning, Jamie. It does my heart good to see brothers get along so well. Why don't you join us on our ride? Lincoln and I would both enjoy your company.”

Jamie glanced at his brother. “I don't think—”

“I insist…I won't take no for an answer.” She watched the smile leave Lincoln's face, and hid her amusement.

“I'm afraid I must decline, Brianna. Father will have my scalp if I run off and—”

“Oh, go on…I'm jesting, for God's sake. As if we want a chaperone along to observe our tender good-byes.”

He laughed with relief and left them to their own devices.

“You should have seen your face. It turned dark as a thundercloud. I was only teasing.” She licked her lips. “I enjoy teasing you, Lincoln.”

When he lifted her into the saddle, she gave him a provocative, come-hither look. “Catch me if you can.”

By the time he finished saddling his own mount, she was out of sight. He didn't catch up with her until he reached the orchard.

Brianna dismounted and reached up to pick an apple. The one she wanted was beyond her reach, so she climbed into the tree. “I forwent breakfast this morning, so we could ride out together.” She picked two apples and bit into one with gusto.

Lincoln was out of the saddle in a flash. He came to the tree and lifted his arms in invitation.

Brianna took another bite and slowly licked the juice from her lips as she contemplated his invitation. Without warning, she sprang down into his arms and her momentum carried them sprawling to the ground. Lincoln rolled until he was in the dominant position. She held out the other apple and murmured seductively, “The woman tempted me.”

He covered her mouth with his and kissed her hungrily. He was fully aroused and pressed his hard erection into her soft belly. He lifted his mouth from hers and gazed down at her with speculative eyes, as she lay supine between his thighs.

“There's one sure way to make me beg to become your wife,” she whispered temptingly. “Make love to me and get me with child.”

Lincoln groaned and sat up. “Christ, Brianna, you heard us talking in the stables this morning.”

“Indeed I did, Lincoln Robert de Warenne. And I hereby give you fair warning that I have more good sense than to allow you to seduce me.” Her eyes sparkled wickedly. “For at least another year,” she added saucily.

When she made no move to get up, he leaned back over her. “Because you'll be gone within the hour, I have an overwhelming urge to kiss you as you've never been kissed before.”

Brianna was filled with the wisdom of Eve. They had already fought over her wanting to become a lady in waiting to Queen Isabelle, and she knew how much he disapproved. “It's because I'm going to court. You have an overwhelming male need to put your brand on me.”

“Yes, I do,” he admitted. “It's because you would tempt any man to madness.” His lips crushed hers possessively.

 

Lincoln Robert stood in Hedingham's courtyard long after Brianna had departed. He cursed under his breath. He had never felt as frustrated in his life. Brianna acted as if she had done him a great favor in agreeing to the betrothal, when in fact it was the other way about.
I'm the heir to the earldom of Surrey! A betrothal entitles me to certain rights that she took great delight in denying me. The cock-teasing little bitch has had me in a state of arousal for days.

Lincoln eased his swollen cock into a more comfortable position and spied Rose, his mother's serving girl, walk across the courtyard with a basket over her arm. His eyes followed her with speculation and he closed the distance between them.

“Where are you going, my pretty maid?” he teased.

Rose blushed at the handsome young heir. “I'm going to the orchard, my lord. Cook needs some pears.”

You have a lovely pair!
“Rose, I think I'll come with you and make sure they are ripe.”

“J
ory! Brianna! I sent a message to Warwick, imploring you to return to Windsor. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming so quickly.” Isabelle was overjoyed to see the Countess of Warwick and her daughter.

The de Beauchamp ladies went down before the queen in deep curtsies. “Your Grace.”

The queen raised them immediately. “You must call me Isabelle, as you always did, when we are among ourselves.”

“We didn't get your message,” Jory explained. “As soon as we heard the Despencers were sent into exile, we made plans to come.”

“We persuaded Father to visit his castle of Flamstead, so we could come to Windsor. I thought about you every day and I long to see baby Joan.”

“She is a beautiful baby. The children will be so excited to see you when they waken from their nap.” Isabelle stared at Jory's daughter with unconcealed admiration. “Brianna, it has been more than a year since last I saw you. You are no longer a girl, you are a lady…a beautiful lady.”

“I decided she was old enough to learn the truth about Hugh Despencer, so there is no need to pick and choose your words, dearest Isabelle. After we were dismissed and sent home to Warwick, was it unbearable for you?”

Isabelle's blue eyes revealed her vulnerability as she remembered the indignities she had been forced to suffer. “Sometimes I fear the walls have ears. Come, let us go into my private sitting room where we can be comfortable, and I will tell you all.”

The queen's steward served them wine and discreetly withdrew.

“On Hugh Despencer's orders, all my ladies were dismissed and the loyal French servants, who came to England with me when I was married, were sent home. I was allowed to keep only my steward, Montebus, and his wife, Beth, who was my only lady of the bedchamber. I was deprived of my musicians and my dressmakers. One by one, all the castles that were in the queen's dower were taken from me. First it was Brotherton in Yorkshire. Then it was Leeds nearby in Kent, which I dearly loved and visited often. After that Marlborough and Devizes were taken from me. Despencer took all my rents and revenues and kept them for himself. I had no money to run my household or pay my servants, not even Matilda my washerwoman.”

Brianna was appalled. “Your Grace, you are the Queen of England. Did you not complain to King Edward about the shocking way that Hugh Despencer was treating you?”

“I tried…on the few occasions I was permitted to see my husband. Edward insisted that because of his father's wars, England's coffers were empty. He told me that as chamberlain, his dearest friend Hugh was forced to institute economies in the royal household. He grudgingly agreed to pay for the children's nursemaids, for which I was thankful.”

“The avaricious bastards grew rich at your expense,” Jory declared passionately. “When Warwick told me they took back sixty-three manor houses and thousands of sheep and cattle that the Despencers had accumulated, I was outraged at their greed.”

“I was well aware of the Despencers' power since they were the principal members of the King's Council, but I had no idea of the vast lands and properties they had unlawfully amassed or the wealth they had stolen from the Marcher lords and the barons of England.”

“Now that the hated Despencers are exiled and forbidden to return without consent of Parliament, you must forget about them.”

“Jory, I will
never
forget!” she whispered fiercely. “I loathe and detest Hugh Despencer with every ounce of my being. Exile is too good for him. I wish him dead!” The ice-hard expression on Isabelle's beautiful face softened. “I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to Warwick and Thomas of Lancaster and to Roger Mortimer, who came all the way from Ireland to deliver me from my enemies.”

“Ridding England of the Despencers was brave and heroic,” Jory agreed, “but it was in their own best interests, Isabelle.”

“To me they are saints,” the queen insisted.

“Roger Mortimer is the most gallant man I've ever known.” Brianna's face was radiant as she remembered the last time she had seen him mounted upon his black stallion.

“His handsome looks and his charm are enough to turn any woman's head and have captured my daughter's imagination. But the qualities I admire most are his strength and determination.”

Brianna and Isabelle exchanged a look that told Jory both females were in danger of losing their hearts to the virile devil. She deliberately changed the subject. “The Earl of Pembroke wed your cousin. I would love to meet her.”

“And so you shall. Marie is here at Windsor. You will both love her. Her Parisian gowns put mine to shame. I haven't had the pleasure of any new clothes for a very long time. Alas, what beauty I had has faded. I have become pale and wan. When I could no longer bear to look at myself, I had my mirrors covered.”

“Dearest Isabelle, your beauty has not faded,” Brianna insisted. “You have an ethereal, delicate look that makes your face exquisite.”

“Do you really think so, Brianna?” Isabelle asked uncertainly.

“It is not any lack of beauty that is the problem here. It is your complete lack of confidence,” Jory insisted. “What the devil have those cruel swines done to you, Isabelle?”

The queen smiled tentatively. “Life will be good again, soon, I hope. Some of my musicians are back and I have just had my royal barge returned to me. We will be able to go out on the river again and perhaps my son Edward will join us. Please tell me you will stay here at Windsor with me for a little while so we can enjoy what is left of summer?” Isabelle pleaded.

“Thank you, Isabelle. I will be delighted to stay until the end of September, but Brianna's dearest wish is to stay a whole year and serve you as a lady in waiting.”

The petite queen's eyes lit with pleasure. “Brianna, would you really do that for me? I've been so alone…You have no idea what your company and your friendship would mean to me.”

“Your Grace, it is my great honor to serve you. You are the Queen of England, beloved by everyone.”

“Not everyone, I'm afraid.” Her small hand fluttered to her throat, and it tugged at Brianna's heartstrings to see how unsure of herself the young queen had become.

“I can't wait to see Prince Edward. I warrant he will easily outride me by now.” Brianna had ridden out regularly with the young prince when her mother had been part of the Queen's Court.

“Edward has grown so tall, you won't recognize him. I am told that he is the image of his grandfather, not just in looks, but in his personality also. Everyone remarks upon it.”

“Then you have good reason to be proud of him,” Jory said.

Isabelle summoned her steward. “I'd like you to plenish the same rooms that the Countess of Warwick previously occupied. When she leaves they will belong to Lady Brianna, who has graciously consented to serve as my new lady in waiting.”

Two hours later the de Beauchamp ladies had unpacked and their rooms, adjacent to the queen's chambers in the Upper Ward, looked as if they had never left. Brianna opened the windows that overlooked Isabelle's private garden. “I'm so glad these familiar rooms will be mine. Windsor is such a lovely castle.”

“You will have your work cut out for you,” Jory told her daughter. “The greatest service you can do for Isabelle is to restore her confidence. She is far too vulnerable and unsure of herself at the moment. It will do her a world of good to have a trusted friend in whom she can confide. You will serve as a perfect role model…You have an abundance of vitality and self-assurance, Lady Brianna de Beauchamp.”

“That is because you have always set such a glorious example for me, Mother.”

Jory smiled, pleased at the compliment. “Try to instill some of it in Isabelle. A queen should possess a regal confidence.”

“I will do my best,” Brianna promised.

“That's all any of us can do. Let's go and see the children. It's been so long, perhaps they won't remember us.”

When Brianna and her mother returned to Isabelle's apartment, they found her holding her last-born, Princess Joan.

The tiny one-year-old had a heart-shaped face like her mother. “Oh, she is so beautiful…She looks exactly like you.”

“Thank you, Brianna. She is such a happy baby. Ah, here come John and Eleanor. My son is now six.”

“And Eleanor is four.” Brianna swooped up the child, who immediately chortled and tangled her fingers in the tempting red-gold curls. “She remembers my hair!” Brianna was delighted.

Prince John of Eltham carried a wooden sword and thrust it into all the chair cushions. Isabelle smiled indulgently. “He wants to be just like his big brother, Edward.”

Jory pretended to be afraid of the fierce warrior, and the child laughed with glee. “You have beautiful children, Isabelle.”

“I love them so much. They have helped me keep my sanity during the dark times when I was in despair.”

 

The following day, Isabelle introduced her French cousin. “It gives me great pleasure to present Marie de Chatillon, the new Countess of Pembroke. Marie, this is my dear friend Jory de Beauchamp, Countess of Warwick. She is the wonderful lady who befriended me and took me under her wing when I first came to England…and this is her beautiful daughter, Lady Brianna.”

Though Marie was not a great beauty, her clothes lent her an enviable elegance. Jory greeted her warmly. “Lady Pembroke, we are distantly related through marriage. Your husband is a cousin of my late uncle, John de Warenne. I am delighted that you have joined the Queen's Court.”

“Lady Pembroke, it is apparent by the lovely gown you are wearing that you will be a font of information about the latest French fashions,” Brianna declared. “You put us all in the shade.”

“Please call me Marie. In Paris the latest style for gowns is fitted sleeves, tight bodices that are nipped in at the waist, and full billowing skirts.”

“It looks elegant on you, Marie, but I'm afraid the new fashion would do little for me,” Isabelle said wistfully.

“Your Grace, you are wrong!” Brianna insisted. “The fashion was designed for a lady with a petite figure like yours. On you it would look extremely graceful and feminine. I urge you to be fitted for such a gown. I wager you will set the fashion and other ladies will be so envious they will copy you.”

Encouraged by Brianna and Jory, Isabelle was fitted for some new gowns, and Marie instructed the queen's sewing women in the latest Parisian styles.

The September weather was glorious. Brianna enjoyed every day at Windsor as Queen Isabelle began to exercise her newfound freedom. One by one, the noble ladies who had been dismissed from the Queen's Court returned. Lady Marguerite, the twenty-year-old daughter of Lord John Wake, recently restored to the queen's household, arrived and Arbella Beaumont, daughter of Isabella de Vesci, one of the queen's original ladies, eagerly took her mother's place. Maude FitzAlan, the sister of Richard, Earl of Arundel, also returned to Queen Isabelle's service. Once again, the lovely chambers of Windsor Castle began to ring with laughter and merriment.

At the urging of Brianna and her other ladies, Isabelle agreed to an outing on the river. The royal barge was outfitted with bright new cushions and a gold-fringed purple canopy to shade them from the sun. Hampers of food and wine were taken aboard and the queen's musicians were brought along to provide music. Isabelle spoke with Prince Edward's tutors and arranged for her son to join her on the river excursion.

As the royal barge moved out into the river, Brianna sat down beside Isabelle. She had brought the queen's cloak in case Isabelle became chilled. “Was Prince Edward able to join us?”

“Yes, but the moment he came aboard he went belowdecks to watch the men who man the oars. He loves ships and he is at an age where strength and physical skills impress him.”

“If he is anything like my brother, he would much prefer a lesson in rowing to one in Latin.”

The young prince came up on deck and joined his mother. “You look happy today. The fresh air has put roses in your cheeks.” His eyes lit up as he recognized the young beauty who curtsied to him. “Brianna, I heard a rumor that you were visiting Windsor. I demand that you come and ride with me before you leave.”

“I'm not leaving. The queen has invited me to be a lady in waiting.” Brianna smiled at Prince Edward, amazed at how much he had grown since she had last seen him. Though he was younger than her brother, his tall athletic build belied his age. He had the striking Plantagenet features of his magnificent grandfather, and resembled a young golden god.
He was born to be King of England, and what a splendid king he will be!

“That's wonderful news. You are the only lady of my acquaintance who is knowledgeable about horse breeding. One of these days I intend to visit your castle of Flamstead and see for myself the famous Warwick horses.”

“We would be honored by your visit, Edward.”

“Oh, look.” Isabelle pointed to the fields where the men were cutting the grain with long, curved scythes and the women followed gathering, binding, and stacking the golden crop. “It's harvest time. Autumn is such a lovely season. Listen, they are singing!” The queen moved to the rail for a better view and the people in the meadows stopped what they were doing to gaze at the royal barge. Suddenly, they realized that it was the Queen of England who was sailing down the Thames from Windsor to London and they began to wave and cheer.