"Who?" Rosamond asked, dreading Demi's answer.
"The Prince of Wales, silly. He is so dark and dangerous looking, he makes my knees feel weak as wet linen! How fortunate that I studied the Welsh language, as I am to sit up on the dais with him tonight at dinner!"
"You are infatuated with him because he is an older man, much as I was with Sir Rickard de Burgh." Rosamond said. "However, you mustn't forget that Llewelyn is England's enemy."
"I know, isn't it exciting? " Demi licked her lips, and Rosamond was thankful her friend was too young for a serious relationship with the older man.
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That night, Rosamond watched Llewelyn and Demi as they sat together on the dais. They appeared to be engrossed in each other as if they were alone in the universe. She glanced up at her husband and saw that he too watched Llewelyn of Wales. "Demi is infatuated with him," she said. "When he leaves, she will be brokenhearted."
"Not if they betroth her to him."
"Betroth? Demi has only just turned fifteen. Surely they would not wed their young daughter to the enemy!"
"Would they not? You don't know Simon de Montfort very well. Llewelyn is the self-styled Prince of Wales, king in all but name, as is Simon himself. A bond of marriage would ensure peace between England and Wales."
Rosamond studied Simon de Montfort, then she watched Lady Eleanor, who was every inch a royal princess that night. She saw them through Rodger's eyes and saw clearly that both were ambitious for power. If they could wed their daughter to a prince, would they do so, even if he were an enemy? Demi would be sacrificed to power!
Rosamond put her hand on Rodger's arm. "I don't want to stay at Kenilworth. Can we not go back to Windsor?"
Rodger held her gaze with his. "Not yet, love." He placed his hand over hers. "I will take you to Tewkesbury, and you can spend time at your own castle of Deerhurst, which lies so close."
"Oh, yes please, that would be wonderful."
He raised her fingers to his lips. "Let's go upstairs."
As Rosamond began to undress she felt her husband's eyes upon her and suddenly felt self-conscious. Since they had last made love, her pregnancy had become far more pronounced.
"Let me undress you," he said softly.
"I... my body is no longer attractive, my lord."
In a flash, he was before her. "You are wrong, Rosamond. You have never looked more lovely than you do tonight." He took the gown she was holding over her belly and tossed it to the foot of the bed. Then he sat down and pulled her between his thighs. "Your breasts and belly are lush." His hand stroked over the thin material of her shift, and he felt her quiver. As he lifted off the garment, she tried to turn from him, but he would not let her.
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His hands slid down her satin smooth back, drawing her close enough for his mouth to caress her luscious curves. "The way you look excites me, Rosamond. Come, kiss me."
She found her own arousal had begun and slid her arms about his neck to bring her lips close to his. After only one kiss, she felt insatiable and the tip of her tongue came out to lick and taste him. It was not enough for her; she felt ravenous for him and tore away his doublet.
Rodger finished disrobing swiftly and took her down to the bed with him. "Your naked skin feels like hot silk against mine; I love its scent and its taste," he murmured huskily.
"Rod, I want to taste you." At last she had dared to reveal her inner longing, and it gave her the courage to be daring and bold. She rose above him to gaze down at his hard, powerful body, allowing her eyes to feast where her lips ached to follow. Slowly she lowered her mouth to cover one of his nipples, and as her pale hair pooled upon his chest, Rod almost came out of his skin.
His dark magnetism was like black magic tonight, arousing in her a sensuality she had kept dammed up inside her. His body was so hard and strong and powerful, it evoked a wildness in Rosamond she had no intention of suppressing. Rodger was easily the handsomest man she had ever beheld, and his green eyes and jet hair attracted her like a lode-stone. That he found her beautiful and wanted to make love to her was like an aphrodisiac to Rosamond, and all her inhibitions melted away as hot passion flamed up, threatening to consume her.
Her palms stroked his flat belly, then she bent to dip her tongue into his navel and heard his groan of pleasure. Her glance lingered on his thick manroot that jutted so arrogantly, and the corners of her mouth rose in pleasure as she teased him with her eyes. "There is something I've wanted to do for a long time," she whispered. Then, without warning, her mouth was on his thigh scar, tracing its outline with the tip of her tongue, licking the silvery line that marred his flesh from knee to groin.
"Rosamond, don't!" he cried.
Her laugh was sultry. "It is part of you, and I find all your parts irresistible tonight... Rod." She cupped his balls gently and rolled them one against the other, then she took the head of his cock into her mouth
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and swirled her tongue about it. She sucked him softly, rhythmically, slowly taking not only the head, but also half of his thick shaft into her mouth.
Rod watched, mesmerized as she fellated him. Her golden hair whispered over his thighs, cloaking the intimate thing she did to him, and he thanked the gods for this woman with whom he had been gifted. If he could arouse this much passion in her, surely he could make her love him. He felt his seed start and tried to withdraw, but she stayed him with her hand, and he gave himself up to paradise.
When he came up over her, his lips touched her between her breasts. "I kiss your heart, Rosamond."
"I love it when you do that," she said breathlessly.
He took possession of her mouth and tasted himself on her lips. "I love you, Rosamond." It was the first time he had admitted it, and suddenly he didn't need to hear her say it back to him. He suspected that indeed she did love him, she was simply afraid to admit it, even to herself.
"Then show me!" She needed to feel him inside her, needed his strength and his driving passion. Tonight, his was the power, but hers was the glory!
******************
When Rosamond bade farewell to Demi, her friend confided that her father and Llewelyn of Wales were indeed discussing the possibility of a betrothal. The Demoiselle, her eyes filled with stars, was so joyously excited that Rosamond could not bring herself to spoil the young girl's happiness. "I was betrothed to Sir Rodger for many years before we were actually married. Do not be in too big a hurry to leave Kenilworth for Wales."
Rodger insisted they break their journey at Pershore, where Rosamond found her property flourishing under the direction of her new steward, and she knew in her heart she had her husband to thank for its prosperity. When they arrived at Tewkesbury, Rosamond was overjoyed to find Nan and Chirk awaiting her.
"Oh, my lamb, you are having a babe! Sir Rodger never breathed a
word about it. You must be exhausted after your long journey. You
shouldn't have been riding You must go up to bed and rest."
"Nan, stop. You are as bad as Rodger. It was only a long journey
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because he insisted we travel at a snail's pace. I would, however, like a bath in that outrageous Viking bathing tub!"
Nan eyed Rosamond as she undressed. "When is the babe due to arrive?"
"I'm not sure," Rosamond temporized, realizing Nan would try to curtail her every activity if she knew she was into her seventh month. "I believe I'm about five months."
Rodger came into the bedchamber and tried to dismiss the tiring-woman. "I will tend Rosamond if there's anything she desires, Nan."
"I must unpack all her lovely gowns, my lord; we don't want them to be ruined."
Rod flashed a wicked grin at Rosamond. "A gown has no value unless it makes a man want to take it off. I suppose I'll settle for a kiss, if Nan refuses to grant us privacy."
"The two of you've had enough privacy, by the look of things," Nan jested.
When he had received his reward and departed, Nan said, " 'T
is only natural he wants his son born at his own castle of Tewkesbury."
Rosamond lay back in the scented water, contemplating Nan's words. Someday this magnificent castle filled with treasures would belong to their child, as well as Pershore and Deerhurst, and for the first time she understood and approved of Rodger's acquisitive ambition. Landholdings meant wealth, power, and security, and she too was suddenly ambitious for her child.
She could still feel the imprint of Rod's mouth upon hers and between her breasts, where he had kissed her heart. She was amazed at how their relationship had progressed and how her feelings had mellowed toward him. His teasing words came back to her: Sweetheart, I intend to die on the upstroke or the downstroke, not in some reckless plot you imagine Edward and I are hatching. Then she recalled her own words: Rod, I wish I could believe you . . . I wish I could trust you. That is when he had given her his pledge: You can believe this: If you give me your trust, I will never betray it. She sighed with happiness and admired the dragonhead mast on the bathing tub. Perhaps a dragon could be tamed after all.
The very next day, Rosamond was disabused of such a notion. One young noble after another rode in, and Rodger spent long hours
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secluded with them. She asked Master Burke, the castellan, who they were, and he began to identify them for her.
"The swarthy one is Lord Mortimer. He has castles along the Welsh border at Wigmore and Chirk. The stocky lord who frowns is Hay, and the handsome one is Montgomery—"
"You need go no farther, Master Burke. They are all Marcher barons who have strategic castles along the border."
"That is correct, my lady, except for the young man who has the coloring of a lynx. He is Lincoln de Warenne, whose family has castles in Lewes and throughout Surrey. If you will excuse me, my lady, I must check on the meat for the evening meal. Sir Rodger ordered venison, rather than mutton."
When Rodger came to their chamber to change out of his leathers for the evening meal, Rosamond took the offensive immediately.
"What secret plots are you hatching?" she demanded angrily.
"I would tell you, chérie, if they were not secret," he teased.
"Do not patronize me, sir! You deliberately lied to me, telling me I was being fanciful about plots involving Prince Edward!" She flew at him and pummeled his chest. "You gave me your pledge!"
Rod covered her clenched fists with his large hands. "I pledged that if you gave me your trust, I would never betray it. Clearly, you have not given me your trust, Rosamond."
"Dear God, you fought the war and you lost! Can you not accept it? Can we not live in peace?"
"We did not lose the war, Rosamond, we lost a battle."
"You must be mad! Is war all you can think of? Simon de Montfort is a man of high principle. He is enforcing the Provisions of Oxford, he has called a Parliament, he is negotiating for peace with Wales. Surely this is best for the country."
"Let me enlighten you, Rosamond. The country is a seething hotbed of rebellion. Simon de Montfort is using an aging, weak king as a puppet to cram his policies down the barons' throats. He is fast becoming a dictator and a fanatic. After the Battle of Lewes, he promised that prisoners would be exchanged, but now he demands ransom from every noble. The Marcher lords have Welsh informants who tell us he has agreed to ridiculous concessions to Llewelyn. He has agreed to the
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independence of Wales, and there is talk that he will allow Llewelyn to retain all he has conquered in the Marches. You saw for yourself that Simon wants Llewelyn for his son-in-law!
"Does Simon insist upon including the commoners in Parliament because he realizes he must depend on them for money and support in the struggles ahead? All the barons in the North are holding themselves aloof from him. Most of the nobles are now suspicious that a brewer will have the same vote as a belted earl. He is taking into his own hands the possessions of Prince Edward: Bristol, Chester, Newcastle, Nottingham. He has given one son Dover and the other Hereford Castle. He is excluding the proud nobles such as Gilbert of Gloucester who aided him in the struggle, while he consolidates his personal power."
"I don't believe you!" Rosamond cried. "You are taking the side of Edward because he is your friend!"
"I am taking the side of Edward because he is our future king. The throne of England is his divine right. His must be the power, his the glory, not an earl of the realm."
Rosamond stubbornly placed her hands over her ears and turned her back upon him. Rodger took her arm and swung her about to face him. His voice was deceptively low, but his eyes burned with green fire. "I shall allow you your own opinion in this matter, Rosamond, and we shall agree to disagree. However, you will put on your prettiest gown, your sweetest smile, and come down to the hall to entertain our guests this evening. You are Lady Rosamond de Leyburn, chatelaine of Tewkesbury, and you will behave accordingly."
She tossed back her hair and raised her chin defiantly. Her cheeks blazed with fury, but she did not dare to defy him.
Twenty-four
Alyce de Clare could no longer bear being confined in the queen's household. Before the beauteous Princess Eleanora arrived, Alyce had found a receptive listener in the queen when she voiced her complaints against Sir Rodger de Leyburn. The queen already hated Lord Edward's steward, whom she believed had been a terrible influence on her son, and she blamed de Leyburn for the theft of her jewels from the New Temple. When Alyce suggested that the royal steward had made himself wealthy by dipping into the royal coffers, the queen launched an inquiry of the accounts and vowed to confiscate de Leyburn's landholdings at Tewkesbury.
The queen also was outraged that Alyce's husband, Gilbert de Clare, had supported the traitorous Simon de Montfort, and she urged Alyce to return to Gloucester and lure Gilbert back into the royal fold. Alyce began to reason that since she was now the Countess of Gloucester, her rightful place was beside her wealthy, powerful husband. The youthful Gilbert would be like putty in her hands! Alyce gathered together her servants and departed London.
******************
During the summer, Rodger de Leyburn was seldom at Tewkesbury. He was overjoyed when he learned that before Simon de Montfort had returned to London for Parliament, he had moved Prince Edward from Kenilworth to Hereford Castle, putting his son Henry in charge of the royal prisoner.
Edward's Gascons, who had fled to France after the battle at Lewes, sailed back, landing at Pembroke in Wales. Harry of Almaine's forces, who had escaped to Ireland, returned as well, and Rodger de Leyburn, in league with the rebel Marcher lords, gathered the fighting
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men at squat Ludlow Castle, seven miles from Mortimer's castle of Wigmore.
Rodger de Leyburn decided it was time to recruit Gilbert de Clare. As England's leading peer, the youthful Earl of Gloucester had more men under his command than any other noble, and Rodger knew his fiery pride was smoldering because he had been relegated to the background of the political struggle. Rodger spent a week at Gloucester, flattering, persuading, and urging Gilbert to change his allegiance, as his father had done. "Surely you will not place Gloucester Castle in Simon de Montfort's hands as he has directed?" Rod questioned.
"That I will not do! De Montfort is Earl of Leicester, a much lower rank than Gloucester! If he appoints new castellans for my landholdings, I shall hang them!"
Rodger suspected that Gilbert held back from joining them because of the rumors and gossip about his relationship with his wife, Alyce de Clare, but when Rod broached the subject, Gilbert waved a hand dismissively and declared, "We will not speak of the woman." Referring to her as "the woman" did not bode well for Alyce de Clare, Rodger decided.
Gilbert was incensed when he learned that Earl Simon had betrothed Demoiselle de Montfort to Llewelyn of Wales. Rod recalled the hunger he'd seen in Gilbert's eyes when he had looked at Demi during his visit to Kenilworth last year. He suspected that Gilbert fancied himself in love with Simon's daughter.
Before Rodger left Glo
ucester, he hinted to Gilbert that Edward Plantagenet might honor the Provisions of Oxford when he came to power, and that is what finally tipped the scales and made Gilbert agree to meet secretly with Edward, if and when the prince could be freed.
Rodger returned to Tewkesbury for one day only before he was off to London to attend Simon de Montfort's Parliament. Rosamond remained cool toward him, maintaining a polite distance, and though Rodger wished it were otherwise, he did not have the time to devote to win her over to a loving mood. He was thankful that Rosamond was no longer riven with fear about the baby she carried, and promised that he would be back at Tewkesbury before their child was born.
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Rosamond divided her time between their castles of Tewkesbury and Deerhurst. As head steward of both households, Master Burke always accompanied her and consulted her about every improvement at Deerhurst. The property now rivaled Tewkesbury with its herds of cattle and its prosperous tenant farms. Rosamond was particularly proud of its stillroom, in which there now hung both kitchen herbs and medicinal herbs. As she looked around, she knew Rod had been right in suggesting the union of the two properties. In fact, she admitted he was right about most things, including their own union. She could not, however, approve of his plotting with the Marcher barons. Simon de Mont-fort had won the war and now ruled England. Why couldn't they live in peace? Why did Rodger have to oppose her guardian? Rosamond's loyalties were hopelessly divided.
Her days were busy, but in the evening, when she sat with Nan, sewing tiny garments for the baby, her thoughts were filled with her dark, compelling husband. She missed him sorely and longed for his return. She regretted the cool way she had treated him, before he left for London and acknowledged that his loyalty to Lord Edward was admirable. She ran her hand over her belly, wishing she could caress the child growing beneath her heart, and knew it was the fear of war that had prompted her anger toward Rodger. Though she loved Simon and Eleanor, deep down in her heart she knew her first loyalty should be to her husband, the father of her child. Moreover, she could not deny that Edward was the rightful heir to the throne, and he would indeed make a magnificent king.