“Lyonene, I have never seen a girl such as you. My brother is most fortunate.”
She stood and fed Tighe more apples. “Something I do not understand is why he is not married. I know he was married before, but that was long ago. How the women of King Edward’s court have let such a gentle, kind man escape is beyond me.”
“Oh, but they have tried. But always there is something in their eyes and manner that shows too well, and that is their greed.”
Lyonene felt the blood rush to her cheeks and looked away. “But I, too, am greedy for him.”
Geoffrey laughed. “The women of the court are greedy for his wealth as much as for him. It is this that is easy to see. They appraise his clothes, the sable lining of his mantle, the jewels on his hem, even the accounts of his estates.”
“Estates? But there is only Malvoisin, an island south of England.”
“Malvoisin is only one of many. There is…”
“Do not tell me! I do not like to think of my Ranulf as one of the king’s earls. It frightens me more than a little. I almost wish he were a farmer like my father; then he would stay at home and play with our children.”
“What is this I hear of children?” Ranulf came toward them. “I have yet to touch the girl and already she believes herself to be a mother.”
Geoffrey looked from one to the other. “I will go and talk to Maularde.”
Ranulf chuckled as his brother left.
“What is so amusing?”
“Maularde rarely talks to anyone.” He turned back to her, the stall gate separating them. “I think you marry me for my horse.” He watched her comb the long mane. “When we are at Malvoisin I will find a suitable mare and mayhaps Tighe can produce a daughter for you.” The big stallion hit Ranulf’s shoulder with his head. “See, even the idea pleases him. Now, come out here to me. I will have to sell him if you spoil him more.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and stared at her intensely. “I wish to remember you well, for I leave in the morn.”
“You cannot! Not so soon.” She swayed toward him. “Could you not stay until the banns are read, until the marriage? Then we may leave together for my new home.”
“I cannot. I have told my steward I will be there, but I could not stay near you for so long. I will return on the day of the marriage and you will be mine. Now you must return to your mother.”
She backed away from him. “You ever send me to my mother. I would stay with you.”
“You cannot stay with me until you are my wife—I could not bear it. Now go or I will carry you.”
She grinned at him wickedly and did not move an inch.
He unceremoniously tossed her over his shoulder, a most unladylike position. She screamed for him to release her, which he did before they reached the stable door.
“I am sure I am the most abused bride in all of England and sure the only one who was not kissed properly at her betrothal.”
“You do not know… I cannot kiss you every moment and naught else. I leave early on the morrow. If you meet me then, I will kiss you before I go. Now do not tempt me further.”
She walked slowly back to the old stone donjon and up the wooden stairs.
At supper the betrothal was announced and a cheer given. The Black Guard stood and lifted their cups to her, and each man said a sentence to Lyonene’s beauty and charm.
“They are pleasant men,” Lyonene said, laughing. She did not notice Ranulf’s whitened knuckles or the deep scowl on his face.
After the meal, Lyonene played her psaltery, a harp-like instrument, and sang. Her voice was clear and pretty and she looked only at Ranulf as she sang the old love songs.
He kissed her hand as he bade her good sleep, and they parted for the night, both very aware of the one thin wall separating them. Ranulf was glad Lucy had returned from the village so he would not be tempted to enter her room as he’d done the night before.
For a brief instant, before he slept, questions came to his brain, questions as to the wisdom of marriage with this unknown girl. It was true that she looked at him as no other woman ever had, but did she also look at other men so? Was she a better mummer than the women at court, to make him believe she cared for him and not the wealth of Malvoisin? He dismissed the thoughts, but they were to haunt him later.
* * *
Lyonene stretched luxuriously—a tawny cat. She felt that something good was to happen today, an excitement she could not name. Then, eyes fully open, she sprang nude from the bed, careful not to wake Lucy, and hastily dressed. Lion would leave this morn and she must see him.