Read Online For My Lady's Heart by Laura Kinsale - Free Book Online Page B

“Share with me.”
    He drew in a light breath—and she felt the barely perceptible withdrawal
    in his muscles. “My lady,” he murmured, “I prefer the sweetness of your
    lips.”
    She tilted her head back, allowing him to trace his mouth down her
    throat. With a languid move she held out the cup of wine and lay full back
    on the pillows. Cara lifted it from her hand with a deep courtesy, smiling
    that soft smile of hers, serene as a painting of the Virgin Mary. Though
    Melanthe closed her eyes, she could hear the light rustling and whispers as
    her gentlewomen retreated, well-trained to recognize her inclinations.
    Allegreto put his mouth against her ear even before the ladies had quit
    the solar. “Donna Cara,” he said. “I told you to be rid of her. Send her
    away tonight.”
    Melanthe lay with her eyes closed. She bore his hands on her, her senses
    refined to catch the last instant that she must suffer his touch. The moment
    she could be certain they were alone, she flung his arm away and sat up.
    “And I told thee to kill no one. Tomorrow thy back will feel the worse
    for it.”
    He hiked himself up to sprawl against the heap of pillows, impudent.
    “Nay, lady, you know none of your men will touch me. They love my father too
    well.”
    “Will please the duke to lend me his guardsmen for the task, I vow.” She
    left the bed and stood by the chest, gazing down into the goblet of scented
    wine. The candle beside it shuddered, reflecting a sinuous half-moon in the
    dark liquid. “It is a warning.”
    “It can be aught else, Your Highness.” He rolled to his side and lay
    propped on his elbow, only daunted enough to give her a deferential address.
    “Bitter almond.” He drank a deep breath. “From here I can descry it.”
    She gave a humorless smile. “Thou art not so perceptive. I could not
    detect it myself but from within the cup.”
    “It must have been Donna Cara. She’s sold herself to Riata and betrayed
    you. Mayhap no warning was meant, but a bungle. Stupid Monteverde bitch, she
    would blunder such work. Send her away, I tell you.”
    “Cara!” Melanthe laughed, scorning that. “Thy mind is occupied past
    reason with the girl. By thy notion, one moment she is subtle as a viper and
    the next so stupid as to poison me with bane in my wine, as if I could not
    smell it there!”
    “An idiot, she is. Give her to me, and I will teach her to be sorry for
    her treachery, so that she will not forget the lesson. She’s not even worth
    the killing.”
    “Not worth killing? Why, Allegreto, thou must be feeling unwell.”
    He grinned. “Nay, only languishing in tedium. I should like to torment a
    Monteverde. It would make a change from these tiresome Riatas who die so
    easily.”
    “Thy malice masters thy wit. Recall that she is my cousin.”
    He turned onto his back and crossed his leg, looking up at the canopy.
    “My malice is bred in me. A Navona must hate anyone of Monteverde.” He
    glanced toward her with a wry smile. “Excepting you, my lady, of course.”
    Melanthe gazed again into the poisoned wine. She moved her head to bid
    him rise. “Take it to the garderobe. The cup will sink. I want no use of it
    again.”
    “Yea, my lady.” With youthful agility he rolled to his feet and made a
    flourishing bow. “A Riata to Hell and a few fish to Heaven—I call that a
    fine day’s work for one garderobe.”

    Amid the call of heralds’ trumpets echoing high in the clear cold air,
    the Black Prince in his litter took the head of the procession, too ill to
    ride—barely able to attend at all, Melanthe had heard. She held her place
    among the ladies, carrying Gryngolet in emerald hood and a new set of bells
    and jesses, watching the chaos in the courtyard become order as the parade
    formed.
    The duke had overcome his scowls: he held back, greeting Melanthe with
    every evidence of high good humor as he drew rein beside her palfrey. “Good
    morn, my lady.” He glittered in azure and scarlet, his shield