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Authors: Virginia Henley

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BOOK: The Marriage Prize
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Provisions."

"I wil use whatever influence I have, Earl Simon."

"You are a good man, Rod. Have you set that wedding date

yet?"

Rodger laughed rueful y. "There is a problem; my betrothed

has no interest in marrying me. Lady Eleanor advises me not

to take no for an answer, but it seems to be the only word

Rosamond wants to say to me."

Simon threw back his head and laughed. "You think that a

problem? Have you any idea of the obstacles I had to

overcome? Eleanor had taken a vow of chastity, so we wed in

secret. When the marriage was discovered, the church

declared it invalid. I had no choice but to go to Rome and

bribe the Pope! Al you need do is persuade one smal

female!" Simon clapped Rod on the back. "If al else fails,

surely you know the tried-and-true method of changing a lady's

answer from no to yes? Get her with child!"

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

Rosamond found the Demoisel e in the stil room, where she

was crushing some red berries to add to the wax of the

Yuletide candles she intended to mold. The air was redolent

with the piquant fragrance as Rosamond took a deep breath

and announced, "I have decided to journey to my property of

Pershore." She wanted to get away from Rodger de Leyburn,

and her conversation with Lady Eleanor about her own

properties had provided her with the perfect solution. It was

obvious that her guardian welcomed and approved of her

imminent marriage to Sir Rodger de Leyburn, which greatly

disappointed her. But Rosamond stubbornly refused to resign

herself to the arranged mar-

40

riage. A visit to Pershore would delay the nuptials and give her

time to find a way to put an end to the betrothal.

Demi lifted the pestle from the mortar and stared at her friend.

"Has Mother given her permission?"

"It was she who suggested it," Rosamond said airily, assuring herself it was only a tiny lie. "She reminded me that I am a

grown woman and should take a hand in running my own

properties."

"I suppose that is so. How exciting for you! Pershore must be

close to twenty miles away. Wil you also visit your castle of

Deerhurst?"

Rosamond lowered her lashes to hide the stab of pain she

felt. Deerhurst Casde had belonged to Giles, and she hadn't

been there since her brother's death. It was now hers, of

course, but she didn't think she could face going there. "I

doubt there wil be time if I am to return to Kenilworth in time

for the holy days of Christmastide."

"Oh, you must be back in time for the feasting and

celebrations, because I heard a whisper that we might be

going to London after the Yuletide!"

"Of course," Rosamond said thoughtful y as her mind darted

about like quicksilver, "there is to be a Parliament at

Candlemas." Lord Edward and his knights would soon depart

for London; perhaps they would be gone before she returned

from Pershore ... if she lingered there.

That night Rosamond wore a fetching gown of carnation red

velvet and sought out her cousin Richard de Clare in the Great

Hal . She had learned that when a woman wanted a favor from

a man, she was far more likely to get it if she looked her

prettiest. She spotted him quickly and made her way to his

table. "May I sit with you tonight, my lord?"

"It would be my pleasure, sweeting. You have grown unearthly

fair, Rosamond; what is it you want from me? No, no, don't

protest, when a woman seeks out a man, she always wants

something."

She gifted him with a dazzling smile. Though he was in his

mid-thirties and a good twelve years older than his half-

brother Harry, Richard had inherited the Marshal looks of his

mother, Isabel a, and was stil a handsome man. "I am

traveling to my property of Pershore and need an escort," she

said.

41

"Wel , that's an easy enough favor to grant. I have knights and

men-at-arms returning to Gloucester every day, who pass

close by Pershore."

"Thank you, Richard, I knew I could count on you. Please don't

tel Harry, he wil blab it to that devil de Leyburn."

"Oho, a lover's quarrel, eh?"

"Yes," Rosamond said faintly, "something like that."

At that particular moment, the devil's green eyes were upon

her. Though the Great Hal of Kenilworth held over two hundred

tonight, Sir Rodger had seen her the moment she arrived. Not

only was she the tal est female present, she was the only one

with a glorious mass of golden hair. When she walked a direct

path to Richard of Gloucester, Rod held his breath. She

wouldn't dare be so reckless, he told himself fiercely. He

leaned over to Lord Edward and spoke briefly. Edward

summoned the squire standing behind his carved chair and

sent the youth hotfoot with a message for Gloucester.

"Lord Edward begs the pleasure of the lady's company, my

lord."

Rosamond overheard and hissed, "Edward never begs, he

commands."

Richard grinned. "And a command from a prince cannot be

ignored; royalty has its privileges, you know."

Rosamond closed her eyes and felt the color drain from her

cheeks. Blood of God, Richard, you have no idea!

When she arrived at the head table, a place had been set for

her between Edward and his steward. As Rod gal antly rose

and held her chair, Lord Edward's blue eyes glittered with

amusement. "Sir Rodger craves the pleasure of your

company."

"The pleasure is al his." Rosamond darted a swift glance of annoyance at the dark face beside her, and suddenly she

realized why she had been summoned away from Gloucester.

"Give me credit for some intel igence, my lord."

"Beauty, intel igence, and a temper of fire are a combustible

combination."

"Aye, come too close and you'l get burned!"

Rod immediately took up her chal enge by covering her hand

with his. Rosamond wanted to jab the point of her dinner knife

into his hand,

42

but control ed the impulse and instead pinched him hard,

drawing blood with her fingernails. He didn't even wince at the

pain, but his green eyes narrowed dangerously. "You are too

impulsive for your own good. It is time you were tamed."

Desire flared in his eyes and his groin, and he made no effort

to conceal it.

"Would you like the job?" she taunted, tossing back her hair.

Lord Edward dipped his head to murmur in her ear.

"Rosamond, I can hear every word of your byplay."

She flashed him a defiant look. "We have no secrets to hide."

The moment it was out of her mouth, she could have bitten off

her tongue. She felt Rod squeeze her fingers until they hurt,

but knew she deserved the warning to watch her impulsive

tongue.

He smoothly changed the subject to save her. "Tomorrow

should prove entertaining if you watch from the castle

ramparts. Earl Simon has proposed our men-at-arms swim

the mere in ful armor."

"Wil you be joining them?"

"Of course."

"Good! A plunge in freezing water might be just the cure for

that swel ing." She laughed wickedly, then added, "On your

hand."

Rodger de Leyburn was damned if he'd let her have the last

word. He had made inquiries about a knight cal ed Rickard

and learned it could be none other than Sir Rickard de Burgh,

whose wealthy Irish family owned everything west of the River

Shannon. When his squire, Griffin, had brought him the

information, a burning streak of envy had ripped through him.

Envy for such a father and such vast estates. Rosamond

Marshal had been breathless just speaking the man's name,

and he burned with jealousy.

"Your knight-errant, Sir Rickard de Burgh, has returned to

Ireland, I understand."

She drew in a swift breath. "Ireland?"

As he watched her his eyes burned with green fire.

"Something about a wedding. The bride is Irish, of course. I

suppose it's only natural to marry in one's homeland."

No, no, it cannot be! It cannot be! Rosamond felt as if a cruel

hand were squeezing her heart, and she feared it would not

stop until it burst. She sat there drowning in misery, oblivious

to everything about her,

43

aware only of the pain within. Her throat closed tightly so that

she could not speak, could not even breathe. Tears scalded

the back of her eyelids, and the roar inside her ears was

deafening.

Rodger watched Rosamond closely and saw her emotional

turmoil. He had relished giving her the news, but now felt a

prick of guilt for upsetting her. He contemplated offering a

word of comfort, then crushed down the impulse. He'd be

damned if he would encourage his future bride to harbor

feelings for another man, especial y the redoubtable Rickard

de Burgh.

Rosamond did not know how long she sat there before she

regained her senses, but she saw with relief that the tables

were being cleared. She fought the compulsion to flee as long

as she could, but she knew she must get away or go mad. As

if she were in a trance, she arose from the table, curtsied to

Lord Edward, and glided from the Great Hal .

Even when she was safely back in her bedchamber, the

compulsion to flee remained. Rosamond decided on the spot

that she would leave for Pershore at dawn. Tomorrow would

be a perfect time to escape Kenilworth, because everyone's

attention would be riveted on the mere. She final y told Nan

about the visit to Pershore, and they stayed up late packing.

She would put off asking Lady Eleanor's permission until

dawn, for Rosamond knew she could face no one else tonight.

When at last the packing was done, she crawled into bed,

emotional y spent, and fel into a dreamless sleep.

Rosamond's agony was stil ful blown at first light, when she

sought out the countess to reveal her plans. She knew that

Eleanor was pleased at her initiative. She also seemed

secretly amused. She knows I'm running away, Rosamond

thought. She thinks I'm running away from Rodger de Leyburn,

and she’s right... but I'm also running away from myself and the

anguish I feel! I cannot bear the fact that Sir Rickard is to

marry, yet I cannot stay at Kenilworth, drowning in self-pity. I

must get away! If only I could be someone else for a while,

until the pain in my heart stops.

"Be sure to take a groom, dearest, and any other servants you

need. I'm sure your bedding and a supply of fresh linen wil not

come amiss."

Because the men returning to Gloucester set off at an early

hour, the travelers expected to reach Pershore just before

noon. During the

44

entire ride, Rosamond was lost in deep, pensive thought. How

could she have been foolish enough to fal in love with Sir

Rickard de Burgh? Granted, he was the ideal knight, one any

maiden would sigh over, but how ridiculous she had been to

form more than a passing infatuation for the handsome Irish

warrior.

To love someone was to lose them; it had ever been thus!

When would she learn her lesson? She had guarded her heart

so wel , whatever had possessed her to let down her

defenses? Had Demi been right? Did she secretly long for

love? If so, she must put an end to such fancy immediately, for

love's only reward was heartbreak! And Rosamond knew wel

that a woman could die from heartbreak. It had happened to

her mother, when her father was kil ed in battle. As she rode

along, Rosamond resolved to build an iron carapace around

her heart, but it did not lessen the pain she felt over Sir

Rickard de Burgh's marriage. She knew only time could do

that.

The travelers arrived at their destination at the hour of noon.

Rosamond offered the knight in charge of the men-at-arms

Pershore's hospitality, but he declined, explaining that they

wanted to reach Gloucester before dark. She thanked the

knight warmly for his escort, then she and Nan, along with a

young groom leading a pair of pack-horses, rode through the

gates of Pershore.

In the bailey, hens and geese flapped and squawked as two

mangy-looking dogs chased them. Four men sat about a cask

of ale with tankards in their hands. They stared at Rosamond

openmouthed, but none rose to his feet to aid the travelers,

nor showed the least respect for the mistress of Pershore.

Rosamond was furious. "Who is in charge here?"

After a moment, one of the men got to his feet, but when he

staggered, Rosamond realized with horror that he was drunk .

. . they were al drunk! "You filthy, idle sots, I am Rosamond

Marshal! Where is my steward?" When there was no reply,

she dismounted and handed the reins of her beloved white

palfrey, Nimbus, to the groom. "Ned, take the horses to the

stables and feed and water them while I rout out my bloody

steward!"

She found him gorging himself in the dining hal along with the

entire household of inside servants. Both the quality and the

quantity of

45

the food and wine on the tables astounded her. These people

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