Read Online The Bride Tournament by Ruth Kaufman - Free Book Online Page A

it overmuch, mayhap the life of a nun is not for you.”
    “It’s what Mother wanted.”
    Their footsteps echoed on the stone floor of the chapel. Sun filtered through a round stained glass window of Mary and child, enhancing the quiet reverence.
    “But is it what you want? What harm can a few more weeks do?”
    “None, I suppose.”
    “You say marrying Richard is my duty. To whom do you owe yours?”
    “God?”
    “Ha. If you have to ask, mayhap you need to think on it a bit more.”
    Alyce tapped her fingers against her chin, which meant she was tempted.
    “I can’t do this without you,” Eleanor admitted.
    Her sister tilted her head back and closed her eyes, as if asking God to help her choose. “Since you need me, I will go.”
    Minutes later, she reached her—and now Richard’s—room to change into her workaday gown to spend the afternoon tallying supplies. Eleanor paused in the doorway. Daylight poured through open windows on the wall opposite the bed, revealing Blanche on her knees beside one of Richard’s chests.
    “Blanche. What are you doing in here?” Eleanor was glad that her trunk filled with intimate goods had already been removed.
    Blanche closed the lid and stood. “Richard borrowed something of mine long ago. I sought to learn if he still had it.”
    A weak response. Mistrust seeped through the walls of her new friendship. Had Blanche slipped anything up her wide sleeves? Eleanor caught of whiff of her perfume, sickly sweet as an overripe pear.
    “Did he give you permission to enter our chamber?” A sudden streak of possessiveness made her emphasize “our.”
    “I didn’t want to trouble him with a trivial matter.”
    “Let’s ask Richard whether he has this item, instead of you prowling through his belongings.”
    “That won’t be necessary. He’s been busy, with the wedding and preparing to go to court,” Blanche hedged.
    She was hiding something.
    Richard and Blanche’s shared looks and subtle undertones and the way she constantly watched Richard had made Eleanor wonder what they’d been to each other. Not that she cared. ’Twas but natural curiosity as his present wife.
    “I gather you’ve known Richard for some time,” she began.
    “Yes. ’Twas years ago,” Blanche replied. “But he was very much in love with me.” Her smug smile grated on Eleanor’s nerves. “We were betrothed.”
    The remnants of her morning meal curdled in her stomach. Yet Richard hadn’t seemed pleased when Eleanor invited her to stay on at Middleworth. Last night, their wedding night, he’d let her talk about Arthur, about wanting to end the marriage, without saying a word about Blanche. What if both bride and groom wanted to be with other people?
    He’d remain married to her for the sole purpose of discharging his duty. To Eleanor, no obligation was worth a lifetime of suffering. Not after what had happened to her mother, Maud, and most other women she knew, forced through the sacrament of marriage to live with and bed a man they didn’t want.
    Why did women have to accept their fate so blindly? She would be different. She’d choose the man she spent the rest of her life with.
    Thank goodness she’d taken matters into her own hands and thought of her bridal tournament. ’Twas the only way for both of them to be free.
    “Yet you wed Lord Latimer,” Eleanor said. The key protruded from the chest’s lock. She turned it with a satisfying click, then put it in her pocket. “Why?”
    “Why do most women marry? Because they must. As you did.” Blanche took a breath as if she was about to say something else, then worried her lip between dainty teeth.
    Eleanor’s curiosity had taken on a life of its own. “And after your husband died? Did you and Richard still love each other?”
    “By then Richard was too engrossed with the Duke of York’s death and Edward’s struggles to gain the throne to consider marriage. As you’ll learn, he lives to carry out his duty. After Edward became