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"Father!" Harry of Almaine levered himself to a sitting position in the rumpled bed. Unfortunately, his hands pressed down on the flesh of
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a naked female on either side of him. It roused Fanny, but Fancy merely rolled to the floor.
"Fancy that!" her sister muttered between yawns.
Harry scrambled to his feet, blushing to the roots of his hair as his father strode into the chamber. "Richard!" Harry said hoarsely as his half-brother Gloucester appeared. For a fleeting moment, Richard of Gloucester looked impressed, but then he quickly set his features in a grim mask of disapproval.
Richard of Cornwall, however, was plainly enraged. "Faugh! This chamber stinks. Get your clothes on and come below," he ordered, turning on his heel.
Caught at a complete disadvantage, Harry obeyed. He descended the stairs and said, "Father, let me explain—"
"I don't want an explanation for the whores, I want an explanation for why you have turned traitor against your Plantagenet blood!"
"I am no traitor!" Harry retorted hotly.
"You have taken sides against your king, your father, and your entire family to support Simon de Montfort."
"Earl Simon speaks for all the barons as he attempts to hold King Henry to the Provisions. Richard, you were at Kenilworth, tell him we are not traitors!"
"Circumstances have changed, Harry. The king is absolved by the Pope from the Provisions, and is on his way back to England. He has called for one hundred loyal barons to be ready for armed action. Justiciar Bohun is already in London and has closed the city gates against Simon de Montfort and his adherents."
Harry stared at his brother Richard with disbelief. "You are a turncoat!" he said.
"Richard is England's leading peer," his father pointed out. "And now he heads a new inner council. You are the turncoat, Harry. You seem to have totally forgotten that you are a royal Plantagenet!"
Harry almost choked on his choler. The drink he had consumed the night before threatened to spew up from his stomach. "What about Edward? He is heir to the throne, but stands solidly with Earl Simon!"
"Edward is far shrewder than you, Harry," his father said quietly.
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"He has already repudiated de Montfort." He watched his son closely to see how he took the lie.
In disbelief, Harry turned to his brother Gloucester for confirmation. Richard did not lie, but lent weight to their father's words. "Blood is thicker than water—especially Plantagenet blood."
Harry glared at Gloucester with disgust in his eyes. "Your own son, Gilbert, will never take sides against Simon de Montfort. He is made of sterner stuff!"
"It matters little whose side Gilbert takes," his brother replied, "since he has no men-at-arms to lead into battle."
"Speaking of men-at-arms, I have brought coin to pay your men," Richard of Cornwall told Harry.
The defiance seemed to go out of Harry at the mention of coin. Then he straightened his shoulders and declared, "I shall go and tell Earl Simon that I cannot play traitor to my family, but assure him that I shall never take up arms against him!"
His father clapped him on the shoulder. "You were ever honorable and idealistic. I'm very proud of you, Harry. Now let's get these bawds out of the Tower. The Queen and Princess Eleanora are in residence up in the royal apartments."
Richard did not immediately follow his father. He needed to satisfy his curiosity. "Harry, about the whores—"
"They are sisters who work in tandem. I couldn't very well break up a matched set," he offered lamely.
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"Women!" Lord Edward declared with disgust as he and Rodger de Leyburn cantered from Westminster's stables. "A two-hour joust garnered scant information. Her lips were sealed tight as a clam; only her nether lips opened wide!"
"She gave you no news whatsoever?"
"Only bad news," Edward said grimly. "Gloucester accompanied Alyce; Richard of Cornwall summoned him."
"Christ, Gloucester has defected!"
"Exacdy! Simon de Montfort was right not to trust him. Gloucester weighed the odds and jumped to the Plantagenet side, as other barons will do," Edward concluded. 176
Rodger de Leyburn, a keen student of human nature, knew that Lord Edward himself was now carefully weighing the odds. "Had Alyce any notion where the queen had taken your wife?"
"Alyce swore she did not know, but we both know she can be a deceitful little bitch. Speculation is futile; we have so many royal residences, my mother could have hidden Eleanora anywhere in the country."
"Where to now, Windsor or back to Durham House?"
"Durham House," Edward said decisively.
Simon de Montfort was not at home. He had gone to the city gates to see for himself how well London was sealed. As they waited for his return Demoiselle de Montfort gave Sir Rodger a letter for Rosamond. "I would love it if she would visit and we could see London together."
Rodger knew instantly that Demi was ignorant of their situation, with no notion the gates of London were closed to her. Rod smiled gallantly as he tucked the note into his doublet. "Rosamond will be overjoyed to receive your letter."
Within the hour, Simon de Montfort returned to Durham House. He could not contain the fury he felt, and Rodger noted he had the wild look of a fanatic about him. De Montfort was wearing black riding leathers. His eyes burned like black coals in a face that looked both grim and gaunt.
"Gloucester was summoned to Westminster," Edward said tersely.
"Aye," Simon sneered, "I had a visit from Harry of Almaine, his sniveling brother, telling me his duty was to his father and King Henry, but that he would never bear arms against me." Simon laughed derisively. "I told him I feared his disloyalty far more than I feared his arms!"
"So, they got to Harry, damn them to hellfire!"
Simon de Montfort stared into Edward's eyes as if he were confronting the Devil. "At least your cousin had enough honor to tell me to my face that his loyalty lay with the Plantagenets; you would betray me behind my back!"
"That is a lie!" Edward roared.
"Today's lie is tomorrow's truth! Your father landed at Dover and his mercenaries are beating all the seaports along the Channel into submission. Since London is closed to me, I will hold my council of war in
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Oxford. You, Lord Edward, will not be welcome! I need no fucking Plantagenets to stab me in the back!"
Edward gave him a level stare. "You had my full backing, but suddenly you don't want me. You hope to win the war against my father so that you can rule through a weak king. You realize you could never do that with me on the throne."
De Leyburn closed his eyes in dismay. The two shrewdest and most powerful men in the country had just severed their relationship. Part of him wanted to cross over to Earl Simon's side, because de Mont-fort was a man of integrity who intended to right the wrongs done to England by a weak king. But his duty lay with Edward, and Rodger knew that de Montfort would have no respect for a man who did not honor his duty and remain loyal.
On the ride back to Windsor, Edward Plantagenet and Rodger de Leyburn remained silent, each submerged in his own private thoughts. The prince was making plans for his future, while his steward's thoughts were more immediate. He knew Rosamond would be devastated when she learned that they were no longer allied with the de Montforts, who had been her beloved guardians. After waging an inner battle, Rodger knew it would be in his best interests to keep his wife in ignorance for as long as possible.
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Rosamond returned to the stillroom at Windsor Castle for some dragonwort to keep her from conceiving. She hid it from Nan, because her servant, like most women, thought that preventing conception was wicked. It was not that Rosamond didn't want a child, it was simply that she could not bear to have a baby, love it with all her heart, then lose it. Far better to avoid the risk completely.
Rosamond took an early bath, then donned a pale green u
nder-dress. It looked so feminine that she decided not to put the dark green tunic over it. When she opened her jewel coffer, her eyes fell upon the beautiful Celtic torque Rodger had given her the morning after they were wed. She had never worn it, because torques were reputed to be slave collars, but tonight the magnificent emerald tempted her, and she knew it would please her husband if she wore it.
From the long, arched windows, she saw Lord Edward and her
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husband canter up the Lower Ward. As grooms came forward for their horses, she watched their squires, Owen and Griffin, hurry out to meet them. All four were talking at once as they disappeared inside. Rosamond summoned a servant and asked him to fetch dinner upstairs for Sir Rodger and herself, then she lit the scented candles and waited.
It was an hour before she heard footsteps, but when she eagerly opened the door, it was only the manservant with the food. She schooled herself to be patient and wondered if aught was amiss.
Finally, he came. For a moment he looked as if he had all the troubles in the world on his shoulders, but his expression changed the moment he saw her. Rosamond stood by the fire and waited until he came to her. He reached out to touch her hair, gilded by the firelight, then his fingers touched the green jewel at the base of her throat. "You are so lovely, you take my breath away."
"I'm sorry about last night. Griffin told me you did not stay for the celebration with your men." She looked up into his eyes. "Rodger, I will try to give you my trust."
He flinched inwardly. It was a day for breaking trusts. Do not start thinking me a saint, Rosamond, for in truth I am a devil!
"I ordered supper for us up here."
At last he smiled. "You are a good wife . . . you satisfy all my appetites." He brushed his lips against hers, then, when she did not pull away, he kissed her deeply.
They sat before the fire with the huge tray between them. He lifted the silver covers and took a hearty helping of pigeon pie, roast venison, and Yorkshire pudding. As he reached for the artichokes Rosamond laughed. "I thought something might be amiss, but I see by your healthy appetite, that cannot be."
You are far too perceptive, my love, he thought. I only eat because I've had no food since yesterday. "Artichokes are aphrodisiacs," he teased. "Won't you try some?"
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. "What about wine?"
Already aroused, he hardened instantly, remembering the wine and what she'd done with it. "Wine is not an aphrodisiac; it simply steals your senses, heats your blood, and takes away inhibitions."
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"I did not realize it was the wine that did that I thought it was
you."
"Flattery, be God! Are you trying to seduce me again?"
Rosamond shook her head and said softly, "Nay, I like it when you do the wooing."
He began the wooing with his eyes, allowing his smoldering gaze to fix upon her mouth, allowing her to see the desire, the hunger, the raw need, and the intent he had to taste, her and possess her. Then his glance dipped to her breasts, and she saw the green fire blaze up in his eyes and saw his mouth harden.
When Rod licked his fingers, Rosamond felt her yearning begin. When he wiped his hands on a linen napkin and came around the table, she shivered, knowing that at any second he would touch her. He lifted her and slid beneath her so that she was sitting in his lap. She could feel his hard thighs beneath her soft bottom. She thought fleetingly of the scar, then the heat of his body began to seep into hers through the finespun material of her underdress.
His questing hand slipped up inside the diaphanous skirt and he feathered his fingertips along her satiny skin. "Who has the longest, prettiest legs in the world?" he whispered.
"I do," Rosamond said shyly.
"And who has a golden treasure between those pretty legs?"
"I do," she said breathlessly as he fondled it.
"And who will plunder that treasure?" he teased.
" 'Tis buried deep," she teased back. "It will take a bold man indeed, methinks." She slipped eager hands inside his doublet to feel the hard muscles in his chest. She felt a paper and drew it out. "No wonder you found it so unerringly, you had a treasure map, you devil."
Rod cursed himself for a fool. He hadn't meant for Rosamond to read the letter from Demi. She unfolded the note and read it by the firelight, and he watched her face light up with pleasure.
"You were at Durham House!" Rosamond touched her lips to his. "Thank you, Rod, for being so thoughtful!"
His thoughts were full, all right, full of deceit, duplicity, and cunning; it was a good thing he was a master of guile. He whisked the note
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from her fingers and dropped it on the tray. "Don't try to divert me from my wicked intent."
"I'll fight you," she whispered.
"Such promises only spur me on!" He laughed deep in his throat, ready to play the titillating game of love all night. Tomorrow would arrive all too soon. He set Rosamond on her feet, put the food tray on the floor, then removed his doublet and shirt with great deliberation. Then he lifted off her underdress, sat her upon the table, and moved between her silken thighs.
"Rod!"
He unfastened his codpiece, and his swollen sex rose up in rampant splendor. "Rod, indeed!" He fastened his fingers in her pale hair that excited him so much, and lifted her face for his kiss. "You smell so good."
"And you smell of sandalwood and ... stallion, which is far more of an aphrodisiac than artichokes."
"I've been in the saddle most of the day."
"Poor Rod, can you manage one last ride?"
He flashed her a grin. "If I help you to mount, you can ride me, Rosamond ... at least this first time."
"I once declared that unruly young stallions needed a horse whip. Do you not fear me, m'lord?"
"Aye, I fear losing my senses, fear losing my heart and soul to your witchery."
"It is your strength and power for which I lust, never your heart, m'lord."
Don't ever make the mistake of underestimating me, Rosamond.
Her fingertips stroked the blue-black shadow of his day-old beard, and Rosamond was surprised that even though he was unshaved and un-bathed, she found Sir Rodger de Leyburn mightily attractive.
He slipped his hands beneath the soft curve of her bottom and lifted her onto his erection. "Hang on, beauty," he murmured, and felt her grip his shoulders as he slowly impaled her tight, scalding sheath, until he was seated to the hilt. Then he held himself still, as fire flamed through his groin, waiting for her to take her pleasure.
When Rosamond began to move, Rod could not help himself, but 181
moved with her in the wild, savage ride. They were both so highly aroused, their kisses so fierce, their plunging thrusts so deep and hot with passion, they peaked long before they wanted it to end. She collapsed against him, her arms sliding about his neck, her cheek resting against his heart.
Rodger's arms closed about her possessively as he lifted her and carried her to their bed. He laid her back against the pillows and spread her beautiful golden hair all about her. He removed his chausses, then gazed at her for a long time, seeing her beauty, her passion, and her vulnerability. He knew that she was going to be deeply hurt by Edward's decision today to break with Simon de Montfort, and he also knew there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Tenderly he gathered her in his arms and began to make gentle, sweet love to her.
Later, after her husband had fallen asleep with his arm wrapped possessively around her, Rosamond lay still as her thoughts drifted back over the days since she had been married. On the whole, it was much better than she had expected. She was beginning to adjust to the separation from the secure de Montfort household at Kenilworth. She felt somewhat stronger and certainly more self-confident, and she wondered if she had Sir Rodger de Leyburn to thank for it. She smiled into the darkness, knowing Rod was definitely responsible for making her feel beautiful and making her aware of her female power. Perhaps power was more exciting th
an love!
She knew she had been terribly wary about giving him her trust, but now she felt he was doing his best to earn that trust. It was a new year, a new life, and for the first time, Rosamond was optimistic that their union held the promise of happiness.
SEVENTEEN
Rosamond slept late, and when she awakened and found herself alone, she assumed Rodger was long gone. Deciding that today she would ride out and explore Windsor Castle's great park and forests, she bathed quickly and opened up her wardrobe. The first thing to catch her eye were her brother's garments that she had brought from Deerhurst. She thought how practical men's clothes were for riding, and no sooner had she thought it than she found herself slipping into Giles's chausses and doublet.
"Griffin, where the devil is Sir Rodger?"
Rosamond, hearing Lord Edward's voice behind her, swung around to face him.
"Splendor of God, Rosamond, I thought you were your husband's squire! Your long legs make you Griffin's height, and I didn't expect to find a lady dressed in male garb."
"Forgive me, Lord Edward, these clothes belonged to Giles." When he gave her a tight-lipped look of disapproval, she blushed and quickly added, "Rodger isn't here, is there anything I can do? "
"Yes, my dear. I intend to bring my wife, Eleanora, back to Windsor where she belongs, and I hope you will befriend her."
"We are already friends, Lord Edward. Did you find out where the queen and your wife went?"
"Aye, Owen told me the royal barge was moored at Tower Wharfe, so apparently they are in residence at London's Tower. An impregnable fortress, but my mother has reckoned without taking into account my determination." He suddenly gave Rosamond a look of speculation. "God's feet, I have an idea. Don't remove those clothes until I find your husband!"
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Edward's powers of persuasion were put to the test when he explained his idea to Rodger de Leyburn. At first his steward refused point-blank to allow his wife to be part of what he thought was a ridiculous scheme, but when he saw with his own eyes that Rosamond might be able to pass herself off as Griffin, he hesitated. When Edward explained the daring scheme to Rosamond, she was eager to take part in the charade.