The Marriage Prize (22 page)

lying upon her bed. Apparently, Hilda had finished it, without a

final fitting. It was a costly gown, designed to serve her at

Windsor's court functions. Rosamond touched the forget-me-

not blue silk with her fingertips, wishing it away, wishing Sir

Rodger de Leyburn had never come to Kenilworth. Because

of him, her thoughts were in disarray, her temper in chaos, her

poise shattered, and her tranquility vanished. De Leyburn was

a devil who had insinuated himself into her life and was

determined to bend her to his wil .

The things Lady Eleanor had said about this marriage

cementing the bonds between Lord Edward and Earl Simon

made her feel like a marionette. And she suspected that

someone had asked Sir Rickard de Burgh to seek her out

and persuade her to their cause. Rosamond decided that she

would not go to the hal to dine tonight, but remain in her

chamber. She would remain here al day tomorrow as wel ,

avoiding everyone. When she did not show up at the chapel at

the appointed time, al Kenilworth would know that the

wedding was off! Rosamond had a mind of her own; she

would show them that they could not pul her strings to make

her obey!

That evening both Demi and Nan left her to herself. Both

believed that Rosamond was pensive because she was

nervous and because very soon she would be leaving

Kenilworth, which had been her home for so many years. They

did not wish to intrude on Rosamond's last night as an

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unmarried lady. Before leaving Rosamond's bedchamber,

Nan, who had already packed most of her mistress's clothes,

linen, and other belongings for her move to London, glanced

over at her fondly. Chirk lay curled on Rosamond's lap, her

eyes closing in ecstasy as her ears were gently rubbed. /

hope this marriage is right for her, Nan thought silently as she

softly closed the door.

******************

activity. The chapel was decorated for the nuptials and for the

Holy Days of Christmas. The kitchens were fil ed with

tantalizing aromas; the loaves of bread had gone into the

ovens before dawn and then dark fruitcakes took their place.

Outside, a great pile of oysters was being shucked, traditional

fare for weddings, while stags and boar were spitted over fire

pits. Barrels of October ale were being brought from the

brewhouse, and red wine, imported from Gascony, was

hauled up from Kenilworth's cel ars.

In the Warwick Tower, the door was ajar between the adjoining

chambers of Edward Plantagenet and Rodger de Leyburn.

Their squires, Owen and Griffin, scurried back and forth as the

two nobles dressed for the wedding. Lord Edward was in high

good humor, shouting bawdy advice to his friend about the

best way to rid a virgin of her hymen. Rod gave as good as he

got, reminding Edward that soon his own virgin bride would

be brought to Windsor.

"You are a lucky devil, Rod. Not only do you gain a wealthy

heiress, you avoid saddling yourself with a mother-in-law.

What on earth she sees in an ugly fel ow like you, I have no

notion. She should leave you standing at the altar!"

Rod suddenly went cold with premonition. Since Rosamond

had told him to "rot in hel ," she had purposely avoided him.

Rod assured himself that she would come to the chapel, she

would not dare do otherwise. But an inner voice warned him

that Rosamond was not like other women. She had a reckless

wil of her own, and a flaming temper when she chose to

display it. A good deal of her appeal was the chal enge she

represented. To avoid the risk of public humiliation, Rod

decided he had better make sure of her.

He walked into Lord Edward's chamber. "Here is the ring, try

not

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to lose it." It was a wide band of twenty-two-carat gold

inscribed with their names: *Rosamond*Rodger*, the letters

forming an infinite circle. "Excuse me, there is something I

must do."

"Enjoy your last hour of freedom, your leg shackles await!"

Edward taunted as he slipped the ring into his doublet

emblazoned with the Plantagenet lions.

To avoid running into other people, Rod climbed to

Kenilworth's ramparts, then crossed to the Lady Tower. He

descended the stone steps that led to Rosamond's door.

******************

on her hands. Nan brought her breakfast and urged her to

hurry. "I'm not going through with it," Rosamond said quietly.

Knowing how stubborn her charge could be, Nan resorted to a

little manipulation of her own. "You wil ful girl, I am going to be sick!" Nan clapped her hand over her mouth and fled to the

garderobe.

The Demoisel e awoke, hugged her friend, and urged her to

hurry. This time Rosamond wisely remained silent. Before the

bathwater was cleared away, the visiting began. It seemed

every female at Kenilworth wished to visit the bride this

morning. They exclaimed over the elegant wedding dress and

gave Rosamond whispered advice regarding marriage, and

the wedding night in particular.

Rosamond knew pandemonium would ensue if she breathed

a word about her decision, so she said nothing. They would

know soon enough, when she did not show up at Kenilworth's

chapel. Her first pang of guilt came when Demi put on her

lovely gown of silver tissue. She was to be Rosamond's maid

of honor, and she was bubbling with excitement. The next

pang of guilt came when Lady Eleanor arrived, bringing Bette,

her own tiring-woman, to style Rosamond's honey-gold

tresses.

Nan returned with compressed lips and Rosamond suspected

that it was she who had summoned the countess.

"Since you are a royal ward, darling, Simon and I wil both give

the bride away," Lady Eleanor declared with regal pride.

Sacrifice the pawn, you mean! Rosamond tried to summon

anger, but al she felt was guilt. She sat obediendy in her linen

shift while Bette

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brushed her hair, then fastened on the circlet of silk

snowdrops. The females in the chamber chatted endlessly,

completely oblivious to Rosamond's inner turmoil. It was only

when Eleanor, Demi, Nan, and Bette col ectively reached for

the wedding gown that Rosamond broke her silence. "Oh,

please, no! Could I be alone?" she pleaded.

Everyone in the room except Nan put it down to bridal nerves.

Lady Eleanor ushered them al out. "Rosamond, rub some

rose petals on your cheeks, you are far too pale. Nan, be sure

she isn't late." When the chamber door closed, leaving

Rosamond and Nan alone, an uncomfortable silence

stretched between them. Fil ed with guilt, Rosamond felt bad

about her decision to remain in her room. She would have

changed her mind if the alternative had not been worse.

Rosamond watched Nan busy herself, gathering together her

mistress's toilet articles, her new night rail and bedgown to

take to the bridal chamber that had been especial y prepared

in the Clinton Tower, so named for Geoffrey de Clinton, who

had built Kenilworth in the twelfth century. When another tap

came at the door, Rosamond's patience flew out the window.

"Please go away!" she admonished.

The door was opened with such force, it crashed against the

wal . Sir Rodger de Leyburn, clad in midnight blue, stepped

across the threshold. Rosamond gasped. "You cannot be in

the ladies' quarters, it is forbidden!"

"I revel in the forbidden." He gave Nan a tel ing look, then nodded toward the door. The tiring-woman, relieved to turn the

problem over to him, quickly departed.

De Leyburn's dominant male presence sparked Rosamond's

temper and doused her guilt. "How dare you enter my

bedchamber when I am in my shift?" she demanded hody.

"Let me help you into your wedding gown," he said silkily.

"No!" she spat.

He gave her a level look. "Put on your wedding gown, or I shal

put it on for you."

"Don't you dare touch me!"

"I wil touch you, by God, any time and any place I choose!"

Rod grabbed her by the shoulders and pul ed her to her feet

most ungently. She reached for his face to scratch it, but

Rodger saw her intent and

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quickly imprisoned her wrists and lifted them above her head,

forcing her struggling body closer to his. He dipped his head,

intending to master her with a possessive kiss, but Rosamond

deliberately bit his lip. With a foul curse, he picked her up and

tossed her onto Demi's empty bed, then threw himself on top

of her to prevent her escape.

In her struggle to free herself from the dark devil, Rosamond's

breasts spil ed from the low-cut linen shift. She lay panting

beneath him, shocked beyond belief that she was becoming

aroused. She gasped as his warm breath swept over her

naked breasts, then moaned as his hot mouth covered her

nipple, sucking greedily. Rosamond knew both his anger and

his lust had been fiercely aroused. He whispered hot words,

dark words against the sensitive peak of her breast.

"Stop, stop!" she begged breathlessly, fearing that soon it

would be too late for either of them to stop.

He lifted his dark head and raked her with his fiery green

gaze. "Wil you put on your wedding gown?" he demanded.

She stared at him a moment, taken aback by the fierce

expression in his eyes. When she nodded her assent, he slid

from the bed and offered her his hand.

"Rot in hel !" she cried, rol ing from the bed and pul ing her shift up to cover her naked breasts. Rosamond tossed back

her wildly disheveled hair and lifted her chin defiantly.

Rodger's eyes narrowed. "Either you put on the gown or I

carry you to the chapel in your shift; the choice is yours."

An icy shiver ran down her spine. Rosamond knew he meant

it. "If the choice were mine, sir, I would remain a spinster! But the choice is not mine. I am being forced into this marriage by

the de Montforts, by the prince, and by you!"

Rod decided to reason with her. "Rosamond, you are a

beautiful, aristocratic woman, just like Eleanor de Montfort.

You need a powerful man beside you, in order to take your

rightful place in society. Did I not put Pershore back in good

running order? This marriage is exactly right for you." Rod

looked directly into her eyes and said quietly, "What you feel is not anger, Rosamond, it is fear."

She glared at him fiercely, but could not deny his accusation.

He reached for her hand and held it tightly. "Tel me what you

fear, my sweet."

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"Nothing!" She felt his warmth seep into her fingers. It was a barefaced lie, of course. "Least of al , you!"

His green eyes lit with amusement. "Then prove it, Rosamond.

Put on your wedding dress and come down to the chapel."

She knew she real y had no choice in the matter. She told

herself that she had only agreed to marry him because he had

saved her life, and now the powers that be would not al ow her

to change her mind. She was being forced to marry against

her wil . Rosamond didn't trust herself to speak as she stood

before him in angry defiance.

"You wil ful, stubborn little witch! I wil make you obey me if it's the last thing I do." He snatched up the wedding gown from the

bed and began to put it on her. Rodger was so determined

that her struggles to elude him were al in vain.

When she final y stood before him dressed in her wedding

gown, she was panting with fury. "You devil, de Leyburn! I wil

give you more trouble than you have ever dreamed of! You

have made it plain the marriage is inevitable, but it shal be a

marriage in name only. You may take my castles, but I shal

never yield myself to you!"

Sir Rodger threw open the door and spoke softly to Nan.

"Please see to her hair." He turned to Rosamond. "I'l wait right outside. If you give us any more trouble, I shal take you

across my knee and tan your arse!"

In a remarkably short time, the door opened and the bride

joined him. Rosamond had never looked more beautiful. The

blue silk gown with flowing sleeves and train was a perfect foil

for her golden hair that fel to her hips. She offered him her

hand and he took it to his lips before he placed it on his

sleeve. Behind them Nan gathered up the bridal train, and

they set off for the chapel. Rosamond's eyes glittered like

amethyst ice. "It is bad luck for the groom to see the bride

before the wedding."

Rod glanced down at her, amused. "I make my own luck."

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TWE LVE

Nearly mesmerized by the flames of the tal candles on the

altar, Rosamond suddenly heard the priest solemnly intone,

"Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, at bed and at board; love,

honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking

al others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shal

live?"

Rosamond hesitated. Obey? Love? She wanted to pledge

neither, but final y yielded to the pressure. "I wil ," she