Read Online Revenge of the Rose by Nicole Galland - Free Book Online

name— he’s let it slip that she is a blonde from Burgundy, so I assume it must be you.”
    Lienor was somewhat appeased. “The only one?” she said, with fetchingly wounded dignity.
    “The only one. And now that I’ve seen you I am convinced his heart is entirely devoted.”
    She smiled. “As long as I have his heart, I don’t much care what he does with the rest of himself. His Majesty’s court must be an excellent assemblage of personalities, judging by the two whom we have now had the honor to know.”
    Nicholas smiled at the flattery, so obvious yet so benign. Jouglet had good, if predictable, taste— Konrad would like this one. She would make pleasant company and never bother anyone with willfulness, Nicholas thought.
    Until the time came for them to leave.

    * * *
    Maria, her chaplain, and the family’s aging steward had come into the hall for a final interview with an anxious Willem. He assured them Erec had assigned men to guard the property. He advised the steward to remember to air and turn the stored grains and feed his falcon and close the house securely before retiring each night; he advised his mother to air the furs and linens when it was dry outside; he advised the chaplain to deliver alms each morning to the village after mass. He advised them each to do exactly what they had been doing anyhow since before he had been born, and they promised him, smiling, that they would try to remember his instructions.
    While waiting for the official leave-taking, Lienor went out the back gate, to the flat and fertile river plain mown low by livestock, to breathe in the green smells of the field and throw sticks for the dogs. She had the rare sort of translucent skin that looked as if it would burn at once under such summer sun, or at least mottle with freckles. Her mother, concerned about that, went to the back gate to call her inside.
    “Give her a few moments more,” Willem called out from near the river, where he and his servants were greeting Erec. “It may be awhile before she has the liberty again.”
    Lienor froze, stick in hand. A young pup danced about her feet impatiently waiting for her to throw it. After a moment, stunned, she simply gave the stick to the dog, who accepted it with disappointment.
    “Brother dear,” she said, using a tone that hinted there was trouble coming. “One might almost think you meant for me to be sequestered in the house the entire time that you are gone.”
    Without speaking, Willem handed Atlas’s reins to Erec and took a few steps toward her, holding his arms out in a conciliatory way. She backed away, a horrified expression on her face.
    “No,” she said, quiet but ferocious. “You cannot mean that, Willem. You absolutely cannot think to keep me penned in the house for what could easily be months. I spend enough time in there, with you out at your accursed tourneys all spring.”
    “Those tourneys are our only hope of advancement, sister.” Willem continued approaching her slowly; she continued backing up toward the gate. “Lienor, there is no other way for me to know that I am looking out for your safety.”
    “You could trust me!” she cried. “You could trust me to sequester myself when a man comes here. How many male visitors are we likely to have while you’re away? How much of my life would you have slip away inside the house?”
    “You make it sound like prison,” Willem said and stopped following her, because he was afraid she would trip on the ludicrous long sleeves of her gown walking backward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw to his dismay that Nicholas had come out to the back gate and was watching curiously. “You have the run of nearly the entire house, and the whole courtyard as well.”
    “The whole courtyard, ” she mimicked with bitter sarcasm, then suddenly lurched sideways so that she could, moving forward, get past him. “The yard is not thirty paces across and all summer it reeks of manure! I will not do it. Send me to a