he not a wondrous man?”
Melite sighed, for she saw several hours ahead of hearing of Lord Ranulf’s charms.
They spent the afternoon in the great bedchamber of William and Melite, which also acted as a solar. Lyonene could not concentrate on her sewing. She constantly held the ring to the light to catch the sparkle of the emeralds and too often ran to the window to look toward the lists.
“Lyonene,” Melite said casually, “this year’s apple crop was especially good. Go to the kitchen and have Cook give you a few.”
“I am not hungry.”
“Nay, but I thought mayhaps that black horse of Lord Ranulf’s would be.”
Lyonene jumped from her chair and ran to her mother to give her a quick hug and kiss her cheek. She had almost reached the door when a thought came to her and she looked back. “Someday, I shall ask you what message my father sent that was so urgent that I was left alone to bathe my Lord Ranulf.”
There was only a flicker across Melite’s face, but it was enough to answer her daughter. Laughing, Lyonene went to the kitchen.
The stables were warm and sweet-smelling as she carried a small basket of apples toward the enormous horse in the end stall.
She stroked his head and opened the door. The horse daintily ate the apples from her hand as she ran her hands over the powerful neck.
“Lyonene! What do you do? You should not be in Tighe’s stall. It is dangerous!” Geoffrey called to her.
She smiled at him over the low wooden wall. “He is as gentle 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 hair 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. My 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 Malvoisin, an island south of England.”
“Malvoisin 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 Maularde.”
Ranulf chuckled as his brother left.
“What is so amusing?”
“Maularde 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 Malvoisin 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
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