The Black Lyon

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Authors: Jude Deveraux
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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 or the deep scowl on his face.
    After the meal, Lyonene played her psaltery, a harp-like instrument, and sang. Her voice was clear and pretty and she looked only at Ranulf as she sang the old love songs.
    He kissed her hand as he bade her good sleep, and they parted for the night, both very aware of the one thin wall separating them. Ranulf was glad Lucy had returned from the village so he would not be tempted to enter her room as he’d done the night before.
    For a brief instant, before he slept, questions came to his brain, questions as to the wisdom of marriage with this unknown girl. It was true that she looked at him as no other woman ever had, but did she also look at other men so? Was she a better mummer than the women at court, to make him believe she cared for him and not the wealth of Malvoisin? He dismissed the thoughts, but they were to haunt him later.
    *  *  *
    Lyonene stretched luxuriously—a tawny cat. She felt that something good was to happen today, an excitement she could not name. Then, eyes fully open, she sprang nude from the bed, careful not to wake Lucy, and hastily dressed. Lion would leave this morn and she must see him.
    In the Great Hall below in the dim light she saw that her father’s men yet slept soundly, but the Black Guard were not present. Silently, she made her way to the door and toward the stables. The sun did not even show pink yet, it was so early.
    She stood at the stable door, her eyes focusing in the dark building.
    “My Lioness awakes early.” His voice was low, his breath soft as he sent shivers of pleasure through her body.
    She whirled and sent him a brilliant smile. “And so does my Lion, it seems.”
    “Careful with those smiles, Lioness, or I may find a den for us.” He rolled his eyes in meaning.
    She covered her mouth over the giggles that trilled out. It was then that she saw Geoffrey standing so close. Over his shoulder was a horse’s bridle. “You go also?”
    Geoffrey was very aware of the scowl that grew on his brother’s face, but it scared him not. This new jealousy of Ranulf’s deserved some teasing.
    Lyonene looked into the blue eyes of her brother-in-law. He was more handsome at close range, with lashes that shadowed his cheeks. She watched with interest as he lifted her limp hand and kissed the back of it. His eyes sparkled into hers. “I may kiss you before

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