Read Online The Passionate Enemies by Jean Plaidy - Free Book Online Page B

husband of his beloved mistress?
    So when the King called Gerald must play the generous host to his sovereign and not only relinquish the place of honour to his lord but his bed also.
    â€˜Also,’ said the King, ‘I become young again with you.’
    She lay back on her bed smiling at him.
    â€˜We were meant for each other, Henry. You know that.’
    â€˜If I had not been a King . . . Were the best times before I became King?’
    â€˜The best time is always now,’ she said. ‘That is the secret.’
    She became philosophical. ‘My dearest King,’ she went on, ‘you should regret nothing. Our love has always been removed from dull domesticity. Would it have been the same if we had been together every day and night?’
    â€˜I am taken away so often. Each time I should have returned to you with the utmost eagerness. I should have thought of you while I was fighting.’
    â€˜And lost your wars because of it.’
    â€˜Nay, fought the harder that I might the sooner return to you.’
    â€˜You must learn, my beloved, that fate does not give us all we ask. Our love has been a joy to us both and neither ever had a lover like the other. But how should we have known this perfection of each other if we had not had so many others to set it against?’ She laughed at him. ‘Come, be gay. Soon you will have ridden away. Tell me of your new wife. She is a beauty, I hear.’
    â€˜She is a pretty creature.’
    â€˜Then because I love you, I rejoice for you.’
    â€˜There is no rejoicing save when I am with you. Yours is the only bed in which I long to be.’
    â€˜You always spoke so gallantly to me, Henry, but I did not always believe you. Come, be truthful. Is it not an enjoyable task getting this fair creature with the heir of England?’
    â€˜â€™Tis no easy one.’
    â€˜Virgins they say do not conceive as easily as those who have borne children before. You must curb your impatience. Ere long a messenger will come riding to Wales with the news that the seed is sown.’
    â€˜Why do we talk of other children when you and I have our fine sons to warm our hearts?’
    â€˜Because, my lord, these children cannot be the heirs to the throne. But I beg of you, cast aside your cares. This night you are here and I am here so let us not waste the precious hours with regrets. Rather let us rejoice because tonight at least we are together.’
    And there she was, as beautiful as ever, the most desirable woman in his life. He forgot all else – there was nothing, nothing but Nesta, his beloved.
    If he could but stay in Wales how joyous he would be. But of course he must remember always that he was a King with a kingdom to protect.
    He rode through the valley with his men behind them, his standards fluttering in the wind, his mind full of memories of Nesta, and he was promising himself that before he left her native land he would have another night with her.
    The fighting was over. He had done that for which he had come. There was no reason why he should not mingle some pleasure with the serious business of subduing the Welsh. Hewould rest here awhile; he would feign to be occupying himself with state business, which he would in a measure, and at night he would be a guest at Carew Castle, and his bed would be that of the custodian’s wife.
    It was while he was riding through English territory that he felt the arrow strike his chest. It was well aimed; but for the fact that he was wearing heavy armour it would have pierced his heart.
    â€˜By God’s death,’ he cried, ‘it was no Welsh hand that shot that arrow.’
    He ordered that the arrow be picked up and given to him. He held it for some time looking steadily at it. It could have happened so easily. If he had not been wearing steel, if the arrow had found a chink, he could be lying on the ground now, as Rufus had lain. He had a vision of his brother when they had