The Black Lyon
as his master." She rubbed the velvet nose, then took an iron comb from the wall and began to comb the long, profuse mane.
    Geoffrey stood before the gate, an expression of awe on his face. "The horse is a stallion and not at all gentle. I have never seen him behave so with anyone besides Ranulf. Did you not know he nipped your father's stable master?"
    "The man, I am sure, deserved the punishment. See how sweet he is?" She stooped before one of Tighe's legs and stroked the long hah- that grew from knee to the floor. "I have never seen a horse with hair like this. Of course Tighe is very vain; a horse so beautiful would have to be."
    "Lyonene, I have never seen a girl such as you. M y brother is most fortunate."
    She stood and fed Tighe more apples. "Something I do not understand is why he is not married. I know he was married before, but that was long ago. How the women of King Edward's court have let such a gentle, kind man escape is beyond me."
    "Oh, but they have tried. But always there is something in their eyes and manner that shows too well, and that is their greed."
    Lyonene felt the blood rush to her cheeks and looked away. "But I, too, am greedy for him."
    Geoffrey laughed. "The women of the court are greedy for his wealth as much as for him. It is this that is easy to see. They appraise his clothes, the sable lining of his mantle, the jewels on his hem, even the accounts of his estates."
    "Estates? But there is only M alvoisin, an island south of England."
    47
    "M alvoisin is only one of many. There is . . ."
    "Do not tell me! I do not like to think of my Ranulf as one of the king's earls. It frightens me more than a little. I almost wish he were a farmer like my father; then he would stay at home and play with our children."
    "What is this I hear of children?" Ranulf came toward them. "I have yet to touch the girl and already she believes herself to be a mother."
    Geoffrey looked from one to the other. "I will go and talk to M aularde."
    Ranulf chuckled as his brother left.
    "What is so amusing?"
    "M aularde rarely talks to anyone." He turned back to her, the stall gate separating them. "I think you marry me for my horse."
    He watched her comb the long mane. "When we are at M alvoisin I will find a suitable mare and mayhaps Tighe can produce a daughter for you." The big stallion hit Ranulf's shoulder with his head. "See, even the idea pleases him. Now, come out here to me. I will have to sell him if you spoil him more."
    He put his hands on her shoulders and stared at her intensely. "I wish to remember you well, for I leave in the morn."
    "You cannot! Not so soon." She swayed toward him. "Could you not stay until the banns are read, until the marriage? Then we may leave together for my new home."
    "I cannot. I have told my steward I will be there, but I could not stay near you for so long. I will return on the day of the marriage and you will be mine. Now you must return to your mother."
    She backed away from him. "You ever send me to my mother. I would stay with you."
    "You cannot stay with me until you are my wife—I could not bear it. Now go or I will carry you."
    She grinned at him wickedly and did not move an inch.
    He unceremoniously tossed her over his shoulder, a most unladylike position. She screamed for him to release her, which he did before they reached the stable door.
    "I am sure I am the most abused bride in all of England and sure the only one who was not kissed properly at her betrothal."
    "You do not know ... I cannot kiss you every moment and naught else. I leave early on the morrow. If you meet me then, I will kiss you before I go. Now do not tempt me further."
    She walked slowly back to the old stone donjon and up the wooden stairs.
    At supper the betrothal was announced and a cheer given. The Black Guard stood and lifted their cups to her, and each man said a sentence to Lyonene's beauty and charm.
    "They are pleasant men," Lyonene said, laughing. She did not notice Ranulf s whitened knuckles

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