The Marriage Prize (6 page)

application of kohl, imported at great expense from Egypt.

She had mastered the art of flirtation and behaved in a

provocative manner to al men save her husband.

Alyce was now a sensual and sophisticated woman of twenty-

one, but even at sixteen, when she had first come from

Angouleme, she had been able to wrap her uncle, King Henry,

about her finger and easily manipulate him. In a magnanimous

gesture, the king had married her into the wealthy de Clare

family. Wisely, Alyce had made no protest that Gilbert the Red

was only ten years old, for one day he would inherit the

powerful earldom of Gloucester. Gilbert's father, Richard de

Clare, the Earl of Gloucester, had been flattered at the al iance

with the royal family, but the marriage had raised many

eyebrows and the barons had been angry that another foreign

favorite had been al owed to dip her fingers into English

coffers.

At this moment, Alyce dipped her finger into a wine goblet,

then sucked it provocatively. "Mmm, delicious."

Rodger de Leyburn lifted a dark brow. "You do know that's my

wine, Alyce?"

"Of course I know. Where's the pleasure in dipping my finger

into my own... chalice?"

"You are a born tease, and greedy too," Rod murmured.

"And I am impatient!" She stuck out the tip of her tongue.

He eyed her with amused tolerance. "Keep that in your

mouth."

"Oooh, I bet you say that to every female you bed!"

"I don't need to persuade them." He grinned.-

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"Rod, Rod ... there is something about your name I adore. It is

so very wicked and suggestive."

"You are the one who is being wicked and suggestive, Alyce."

"Yes, we 'ave so much in common."

"We do, chérie." He raised his goblet and winked at her over its rim. "You must behave yourself for just a little while longer."

She gestured for Sir Rodger's squire, Griffin, to clear the

table, then tapped long nails in an impatient staccato.

"Anticipation is said to harden the pleasure, no?"

"Heighten the pleasure," Rod corrected, "though there is likely more truth in the way you say it."

Alyce dragged her attention from Rodger's handsome face to

eye Harry. She slapped his wrist and hissed, "Stop eating, or

we'l never be able to leave."

Rod winked at him. "Some of us have other appetites to

slake."

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

would get no dinner tonight. She snatched off the ugly head-

cloth and paced her chamber, venting the anger she felt

toward those who had ruined her tranquility. Her mind was

fil ed with the picture of Alyce de Clare up on the dais, with her

beautiful black hair, her exquisite clothes, and her potent

al ure. Rosamond spoke to the empty room. "Why does she

have to be so bloody attractive? And why did she have to

come to Kenilworth?" Rosamond answered her own

questions. "Because al the men are here, and it is

disgustingly obvious that Alyce loves men!" Wel , she could

have them. Rosamond had been content enough at Kenilworth

until Lord Edward and his lecherous steward had arrived to

swagger about, remind her of her betrothal, and destroy her

peace of mind.

The image of Rodger de Leyburn rose up, darkly compel ing

and undeniably attractive, and suddenly it was crystal clear

why the maddening Alyce de Clare had come rushing to

Kenilworth. "Oh my God," she whispered, "the green-eyed devil is dal ying with a married woman while he is pledged to

me!"

Slowly, Rosamond realized that here was her opportunity to

rid herself of the odious de Leyburn. She would go to him and

ask him

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straight out to release her. Under the circumstances, he could

hardly refuse, especial y if she caught him and Alyce together!

Rosamond wasn't even sure which chambers had been

assigned to Lord Edward and his companions, but

unquestionably they would be staying in one of Kenilworth's

five great towers. The impregnable Caesar Tower was the

private domain of Eleanor and Simon, while the chamber she

shared with Demi was in the Lady Tower. Most likely the young

nobles had been accommodated in the Warwick Tower, which

was larger than the others and close to the bathhouse.

Rosamond opened the wardrobe to find a cloak with a hood

that would cover her pale hair. The passageways of the castle

late at night were dim, some even unlit, but she didn't want to

be recognized prowling about the knights' quarters, and her

golden hair would identify her immediately.

Rosamond slipped on a dark purple cloak and took great

pains to tuck every last strand of her long hair inside the hood.

When she opened the chamber door, she could hear music

from the Great Hal and knew she would have time to climb to

the castle ramparts before the evening's entertainment ended.

By avoiding the gatehouse that looked out over the causeway,

and by keeping to the shadows, Rosamond evaded the

soldiers on night patrol. When she came to the Warwick

Tower, she stationed herself on the parapet, where she could

keep watch through an arrow slit. Then she wrapped her cloak

tightly about her and leaned against a stone merlon to wait.

It was a long time before Lord Edward climbed the tower

stairs, but within a few minutes, she watched the rest of his

gentlemen arrive, including Rodger de Leyburn. She noted

that he occupied the chamber next to Edward's, and schooled

herself to patience while their own squires and a few of

Kenilworth's servants took care of the young nobles' needs.

When the tower fel silent, Rosamond began to doubt her vigil

would bear fruit. Surely no lady would venture forth to this al -

male bastion at this ungodly hour? Rosamond gauged that it

was close to midnight, and she certainly had never before

been abroad so late.

Then she saw her. The lady was cloaked, but hadn't bothered

to cover her hair, so there was no mistaking Alyce de Clare.

Rosamond

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heard her rap twice on Rodger de Leyburn's door. It swung

open immediately and the black-haired vixen disappeared

inside.

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

"Alyce, I thought you had changed your mind."

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "You know me better than

that, darling. In fact, I warrant you know everything about me. I

am more eager tonight than I was five years ago."

Rod grinned. "Anticipation hardens the pleasure." He snuffed the candles, and heard the tempting rustle of her garments in

the darkness. As he moved toward the bed, his memory

winged back to that unforgettable night five long years ago.

The wedding of Alyce of Angouleme and Gilbert de Clare was

solemnized at Westminster Palace, where the bride's father

lived in luxury. The marriage of the king's niece was a glittering

occasion, with celebrations lasting for an entire week, al at

the expense of Henry, who was eager to impress and earn the

admiration of his half-brothers from the Continent.

The dark-eyed bride received the name of de Clare, the

noblest in the land, which brought her untold riches and wealth,

not only in money, but in land and castles. Gilbert, the ten-year-

old bridegroom, received only a hunting dog as his reward.

Yet Rod clearly remembered thinking that they had both been

shortchanged. Al week, Alyce had flirted outrageously with

him. She was sixteen and overripe for her first sexual

encounter. It was obvious that she could not be expected to

wait for Gilbert to grow up and satisfy her, so Rod took it upon

himself to solve her dilemma and, at the same time, reap his

own reward.

He fondly recal ed the details of that first encounter. Alyce

wore a cream-colored gown of rich lace. They fed each other

wine and sweetmeats and wedding cake, laughing together

as the guests became more and more intoxicated. When

Alyce could no longer keep her hands off him, he pul ed her to

her feet and led her through the labyrinth of Westminster until

they reached his bedchamber.

Rod could stil remember unfastening the lace gown—exactly

twenty-four buttons—then opening the adjoining door to

fifteen-year-old Prince Edward's suite of rooms. "My lord, here

is a bride who has

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been sorely neglected. She is desperately in need of royal

succor. As a prince and a gentleman, I know you wil not

ignore her plight." Rod kissed her hand with gal antry. "Alyce, I promise you a knight you wil never forget."

Now, as he lay on the bed with his arms folded behind his

head, Rod smiled into the darkness with satisfaction. The day

after the two half-cousins had spent the night together, Lord

Edward had appointed Rod steward of his royal household.

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

enough time to compromise themselves. She would not

knock; there was nothing polite about her intent. She would

simply throw open the door and surprise them in each other's

arms. She gathered her courage for what she was about to do

and took a deep breath. Her fingers closed about the iron

ring, and she firmly turned it until the bar lifted. To her complete

chagrin, the heavy oak door swung open to reveal nothing but

total darkness and complete silence.

She let out her breath and took a tentative step inside the

chamber. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw light

coming from beneath another door across the room. Realizing

the couple were in the adjoining chamber, she moved silently

across the floor, then paused to listen. Rosamond heard a

woman's sensual laugh, and there was no mistaking to whom

it belonged.

Without warning, she felt a powerful hand cover her mouth.

Rosamond almost came out of her skin and would certainly

have screamed if the hand had not prevented her. Her breath

caught in her throat and her heart hammered with fright.

"Do not open it, Rosamond."

The fierce whisper was so low, she wondered if she had

imagined it, until she felt his mouth touching her ear. She knew

who it was immediately, and struggled to remove his hand.

Then his arm came around her like a steel band to hold her

motionless.

"Hush!"

It was a command she could not disobey, and as she stil ed,

Rosamond heard a rustle and a laugh that told her Alyce was

directly on the other side of the closed door.

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"Edward, you real y do have the longest shank in the realm!"

"Shank? It is a royal scepter, my little wanton."

"It is a formidable weapon; sheath it before I faint."

"I’l make you faint, by God" he growled fiercely, thrusting himself inside her.

Rosamond heard Alyce cry out, then she heard a steady,

rhythmic thumping against the door. It seemed to go on

forever, accompanied by the couple's moans and gasps.

"Oooh I love to be taken against the door, it shows your

towering impatience for me."

Even in the darkness, Rosamond knew she was blushing. She

felt the warmth from her cheeks spread to the tips of her

breasts. She had always been sheltered from carnal

knowledge, but the pair's amorous coupling against the door

was so graphic, it left little to the imagination. Rosamond felt

hot threads spiral inside her bel y, and she became acutely

aware of her undergarments brushing against her skin,

arousing sensations that were new and strange.

"Now, now, oh please, Edward, now!"

"You beg so prettily, Alyce, how can I resist? "

The thumping came faster and louder until a half-scream

began and was quickly muffled. A long silence was fol owed

by a heartfelt sigh. "Your mouth ravages me like no other

—carry me to bed." The laughter of the playful couple

gradual y faded as they moved away from the door, until al

was quiet. Rosamond could hear her own pulse beating

against her eardrums. She closed her eyes and felt the blood

drain from her face. She had just heard Alyce de Clare

commit adultery with Prince Edward.

Rodger de Leyburn removed his hand from Rosamond's

mouth and led her silently to the far side of his chamber. He lit

a torch in the wal bracket, then pushed back her hood until her

golden hair spil ed about her. One glance at her pale face and

trembling lips told its own story. Without a word, he poured her

some wine and lifted it to her lips.

"How did you know it was me?" she whispered.

"Your fragrance is unique. Drink," he ordered softly, pushing her down into a chair.

She obeyed him and felt a blood-red rose bloom in her

breast.

"Rosamond, you are privy to a secret that none save you and I

knows about."

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"I... I thought she was with you."

"That is the whole idea. Everyone has thought that for five

years. Al are wil ing to look the other way at a little dal iance. It is another matter entirely for Lord Edward to be bedding the

wife of Gilbert de Clare. You must not breathe a word of this