Read Online Emma Campion - A Triple Knot by Emma Campion - Free Book Online

down, taken in—ruined—on the queen’s orders. Her Grace has given her my lady’s maid as well. I am lady bountiful.”
    “Surely you will be rewarded for your largesse, Lucienne,” he said with an affectionate smile.
    She laughed, regretting having sounded so shrewish, and made him promise to dance with her. They were preparing to leave for a feast at the Duke of Brabant’s, and he was said to have the best musicians in the city.
    “I shall fight to claim your first dance, my lady.” Thomaskissed her hand and moved forward to bow to the pretty Plantagenet.
    J OAN WATCHED WITH ENVY AS L ADY L UCIENNE GREETED SIR Thomas. How gracefully she moved, how easy she was with him. She hated that, with every move, her own body heat stirred the ghost of Lucienne’s perfume in her gown. Perhaps if she stood very still. But what about at the feast? What if they danced?
    “Lady Joan.” With a flourish, Sir Thomas bowed to her, then kissed her hand. “How you tricked me with your earlier disguise. I thought you a mortal child, but you are an enchantress come to steal my heart.”
    Oh, those dimples. “I promise to keep your heart safe, my lord.” She smiled and hoped she sounded lighthearted even as her heart broke.
    “By all that is holy, is this little Joan?” Earl William’s voice boomed, and Thomas was gone. Montagu turned his head to study Joan out of his good eye. “Cursed Scots. A man wants two eyes to admire such beauty.” He’d been blind in his left eye for more than a year, since a war hammer bashed in his helmet. Even so, he was a commanding presence. “Such a gown! I fear Her Grace is pushing you from the nest before you have the strength to fly. I’d not thought our situation so desperate that our children were put on such display.” He sighed. “But then you are a marriageable Plantagenet. Such a pity His Grace refused my brother as your husband.” He tucked her hand round his arm. “Let me escort you to the litters.”
    “My lord, I am comforted by your presence.”
    “Are you, now? Fretting about feasting at the ducal palace? Do not worry. You are not intended for Brabant’s son and heir, you can be thankful for that.”
    “It must rankle, playing at courtesy with Duke Jan, the man who has held you hostage for the king’s promises,” she said.
    “He has treated me with great courtesy. I’ve lived here comfortably, albeit not freely, and all in the service of my king.” Montagu handed her into the waiting litter, bowing and kissing her hand, then backing away so that the curtains might be drawn. Nothing in his behavior suggested that he meant to rescue her.
    By the time the litter stopped and a servant opened the curtains to proffer an arm for her support in stepping out, Joan felt hot and disheveled. Felice and Lady Lucienne took her in hand, straightening her gown and repinning her hair, even retucking the silk padding in her shoes, finishing just as Bella came rushing over.
    “Come, let me introduce you to Henri of Brabant.” Taking Joan’s arm, she led her over to where the duke, his daughter, and a young man with a too large nose and knobby knees were greeting King Edward and Queen Philippa.
    The queen looked Joan up and down, then nodded to the king and the duke with a satisfied sniff.
    “My dear cousin.” King Edward bowed over Joan’s hand. “I cannot imagine the man who would not fall in love with you on sight. Am I right, Lord Henri?”
    The young man smiled uncertainly.
    “Will you take us to see the peacocks in the garden, Lord Henri?” Bella asked.
    Looking relieved, he offered Joan one arm, Bella the other. “It will be my pleasure, Princess Isabella, Lady Joan.”
    “Now lift your chin and carry yourself with pride,” the queen whispered as Joan brushed past her. “You are a Plantagenet.”
    Wending their way through the hall, Joan felt the prickle of eyes following her. But once in the garden young Lord Henriput her at ease. Hearing that Joan enjoyed hawking,