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Authors: Anne O'Brien
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warm within her cloak, enough to hide her un doubted attractions.’
Which made Elizabeth smile. ‘I’ll not have it, Jane,’ she repeated, despite the appeal.
‘Very well, my lady.’ On which note of reproach, Mistress Bringsty exited with disapproval in her portly step, only lingering in the doorway to state once again, ‘You’ll regret it. Never say I didn’t warn you.’ The door swung shut behind her.
The cat stayed to curl on Elizabeth’s lap in comfort. Yawned widely, but fixed her mistress with narrow eyes. Not unlike, Elizabeth realised, the sharp green gaze of Lady Anne.
‘I know. We are surrounded by influences, generous and malign.’ She smoothed her hand over the dense black fur of the cat’s head and back, rousing an instant rumble of pleasure. ‘I like him,’ she whispered. ‘Richard Malinder is dark as a crow’s wing, without doubt, but he’s not the one of Jane’s predictions. I saw him in the scrying bowl at Llanwardine. I felt the bond with him even though I denied it.’ Her fingers dug into the black fur, causing the cat to arch in protest. ‘He is not my enemy. I can’t ever believe that,’ she murmured. ‘But what does he think of me?’
Against all common sense, Elizabeth de Lacy allowed herself to dream.
Chapter Five
T hroughout the days before her marriage, Elizabeth found herself fractious, and beleaguered.
The problem was, as Elizabeth freely admitted to herself, she was feeling lonely. Lewis had taken himself off to Talgarth to report her safe arrival to Sir John. David too had abandoned her to join Richard on his visit to Hereford. Even her betrothed had left her, and in the end with such a leave-taking as to shock her to her bones, giving her more than a hint of the Black Malinder beneath the surface charm.
His farewell, in full public gaze in the court yard, had been formal, hurried and unsettling.
‘God keep you, lady. I’ll be back for the ceremony.’
A brief inclination of his head, an even briefer squeeze of her hand and he had gone to mount the bay stallion. Was that all he would say? Perhaps it was in the circumstances, surrounded as they were by men-at-arms and baggage wagons, or perhaps the anticipation of seeing his mistress again was strong. But Elizabeth, with narrowed eyes on his splendid shoulders as he gathered up his reins, was reluctant to give him the benefit of any doubt. He was brushing her off as if she was less than important to him. Her stare was less than friendly.
By chance Richard caught the condemnation. For a long moment he looked at her, then tossed the reins to his squire, handed over his gaunt lets and strode back.
‘That’s no suitable leave-taking of a bride groom to his sweet betrothed.’
Elizabeth coloured at the sardonic words. He must have read every thought in her head. But then he cupped her face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over her cheek bones, and when she would have stepped back in quick retreat with a murmur of self-consciousness, he took her mouth with his, despite their audience.
Heat and power. A lingering and most thorough possession. Elizabeth could think of nothing at all as the breath left her body, until he lifted his head and, still unsmiling, raised his brows in wry enquiry. Nor could she find a word to say. Was this a wooing? More like a binding to his will. There was a ruthlessness in him, as instantly proved when he took her wrist and pulled her with him towards his mount.
From the saddle he leaned down. ‘Smile at me, Elizabeth.’
She kept her face stern, chin tilted.
His own smile was edged. ‘Perhaps you will smile when I return.’ And then he was gone, leaving her standing alone in the court yard.
So she felt bereft. And Elizabeth watched for his return, although would have admitted it to no one. Her ears were tuned to the sound of approaching hoof beats, of raised voices in the court yard, of warnings from the guards on the gate-house battlements and the raising of the
Which made Elizabeth smile. ‘I’ll not have it, Jane,’ she repeated, despite the appeal.
‘Very well, my lady.’ On which note of reproach, Mistress Bringsty exited with disapproval in her portly step, only lingering in the doorway to state once again, ‘You’ll regret it. Never say I didn’t warn you.’ The door swung shut behind her.
The cat stayed to curl on Elizabeth’s lap in comfort. Yawned widely, but fixed her mistress with narrow eyes. Not unlike, Elizabeth realised, the sharp green gaze of Lady Anne.
‘I know. We are surrounded by influences, generous and malign.’ She smoothed her hand over the dense black fur of the cat’s head and back, rousing an instant rumble of pleasure. ‘I like him,’ she whispered. ‘Richard Malinder is dark as a crow’s wing, without doubt, but he’s not the one of Jane’s predictions. I saw him in the scrying bowl at Llanwardine. I felt the bond with him even though I denied it.’ Her fingers dug into the black fur, causing the cat to arch in protest. ‘He is not my enemy. I can’t ever believe that,’ she murmured. ‘But what does he think of me?’
Against all common sense, Elizabeth de Lacy allowed herself to dream.
Chapter Five
T hroughout the days before her marriage, Elizabeth found herself fractious, and beleaguered.
The problem was, as Elizabeth freely admitted to herself, she was feeling lonely. Lewis had taken himself off to Talgarth to report her safe arrival to Sir John. David too had abandoned her to join Richard on his visit to Hereford. Even her betrothed had left her, and in the end with such a leave-taking as to shock her to her bones, giving her more than a hint of the Black Malinder beneath the surface charm.
His farewell, in full public gaze in the court yard, had been formal, hurried and unsettling.
‘God keep you, lady. I’ll be back for the ceremony.’
A brief inclination of his head, an even briefer squeeze of her hand and he had gone to mount the bay stallion. Was that all he would say? Perhaps it was in the circumstances, surrounded as they were by men-at-arms and baggage wagons, or perhaps the anticipation of seeing his mistress again was strong. But Elizabeth, with narrowed eyes on his splendid shoulders as he gathered up his reins, was reluctant to give him the benefit of any doubt. He was brushing her off as if she was less than important to him. Her stare was less than friendly.
By chance Richard caught the condemnation. For a long moment he looked at her, then tossed the reins to his squire, handed over his gaunt lets and strode back.
‘That’s no suitable leave-taking of a bride groom to his sweet betrothed.’
Elizabeth coloured at the sardonic words. He must have read every thought in her head. But then he cupped her face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over her cheek bones, and when she would have stepped back in quick retreat with a murmur of self-consciousness, he took her mouth with his, despite their audience.
Heat and power. A lingering and most thorough possession. Elizabeth could think of nothing at all as the breath left her body, until he lifted his head and, still unsmiling, raised his brows in wry enquiry. Nor could she find a word to say. Was this a wooing? More like a binding to his will. There was a ruthlessness in him, as instantly proved when he took her wrist and pulled her with him towards his mount.
From the saddle he leaned down. ‘Smile at me, Elizabeth.’
She kept her face stern, chin tilted.
His own smile was edged. ‘Perhaps you will smile when I return.’ And then he was gone, leaving her standing alone in the court yard.
So she felt bereft. And Elizabeth watched for his return, although would have admitted it to no one. Her ears were tuned to the sound of approaching hoof beats, of raised voices in the court yard, of warnings from the guards on the gate-house battlements and the raising of the
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