Read Online Thy Name Is Love (The Yorkist Saga) by Diana Rubino - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diana Rubino
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overweening ambition. After all, Anne's father had not
been known as 'the Kingmaker' for nothing.
Richard still hadn't returned, but since she was returning to her
own castle, with a promise to return on the morrow, she did not
trouble to wait for him. She had come to see Anne, after all, and
Valentine's duties brought him into Richard's company so
frequently, she felt as connected with him as always.
So she took her leave with a promise to return soon, and mounted
Chera with a new sense of determination to make her marriage work
at last. If only Valentine were home when she returned…
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
As luck would have it, Denys did not have to seek her husband out,
for he came to her.
"So how fares Anne?" Valentine asked as Denys arrived back at
Lilleshal and her lady-in-waiting Mary removed her cloak.
"She looks painfully gaunt, but her spirits are good. If you have
a few moments of leisure, I would love to tell you all about my
visit."
He looked surprised, but nodded.
They headed for the solar, where she rushed up to the blazing
hearth, rubbing her hands, lifting her skirts slightly above her
ankles to let the heat warm her legs.
She handed him the parchment she had been carrying. "She gave me
her family table to trace."
"Impressive."
"She also told me to dig deep in my memory and mayhap some name or
place will surface."
Valentine stared at the unrolled scroll for a moment. "That was
very kind of her."
"Aye, it was." She slipped out of her shoes and sat on the
tapestried rug, stretching her legs straight out to let the fire
warm her feet.
"Did you see Richard?"
She shook her head. "He was not in residence."
"Where was the kingdom's greatest warrior? Engaged in a duel with
God, perhaps?"
His remark took her by surprise, and she turned to look at him,
but his back was to her.
He was staring out the window, leaning on the frame, drumming his
fingers restlessly.
"Valentine, is something amiss between you and Richard?"
He shook his head. "Nay, nothing at all. I have been practicing my
fencing skills, so much so that I can barely move my arm, and my
hand is frozen into position around an imaginary sword."
He turned and approached her, standing between her and the fire.
"I am going to duel with him again, and this time I shall beat
him." His voice took on such a vehemence; her heart took a
cautious leap.
"That is really not necessary, Valentine. He wouldn't have won you
so easily hadn't you already been injured."
"But he bested me nonetheless."
"What of it? He could never win his subjects' hearts here the way
you could. That is your forte, and military skills are his. You
have nothing to prove to him."
"I'm not trying to prove aught to him. I must prove it to you!"
Her eyes flew wide. "Me?"
"Then mayhap you will give me a peek into that little rock of a
heart of a heart of yours. Then perhaps I can convince you at last
that it was not merely due to losing a bet that I pursued you, but
that from the moment we met in the palace rose garden, we were
fated to be together."
Her cheeks heated. "There is no need to prove aught to me either.
Save your arm. You need it to wave to the ladies in the stands at
tournaments."
He cocked a brow. "A smile is quite sufficient for them. But it
takes more than diplomacy and statesmanship to be a man in the
true sense. It takes the courage to put your life on the line."
"You are in every sense a man, Valentine," she said sincerely. "I
never questioned that. And of what life are you speaking? Surely
it is not a matter of life and death."
"It is for me!" he said angrily. "I want a good life for us, not
this coldness that passes for civility."
"Aye, cold indeed, Valentine, for you are all man, as I have said,
enough so to completely block my heat," she complained, shifting
over to the side.
He rose and paced in front of her. "‘Tis not the fact that I lost
a duel that bothers
been known as 'the Kingmaker' for nothing.
Richard still hadn't returned, but since she was returning to her
own castle, with a promise to return on the morrow, she did not
trouble to wait for him. She had come to see Anne, after all, and
Valentine's duties brought him into Richard's company so
frequently, she felt as connected with him as always.
So she took her leave with a promise to return soon, and mounted
Chera with a new sense of determination to make her marriage work
at last. If only Valentine were home when she returned…
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
As luck would have it, Denys did not have to seek her husband out,
for he came to her.
"So how fares Anne?" Valentine asked as Denys arrived back at
Lilleshal and her lady-in-waiting Mary removed her cloak.
"She looks painfully gaunt, but her spirits are good. If you have
a few moments of leisure, I would love to tell you all about my
visit."
He looked surprised, but nodded.
They headed for the solar, where she rushed up to the blazing
hearth, rubbing her hands, lifting her skirts slightly above her
ankles to let the heat warm her legs.
She handed him the parchment she had been carrying. "She gave me
her family table to trace."
"Impressive."
"She also told me to dig deep in my memory and mayhap some name or
place will surface."
Valentine stared at the unrolled scroll for a moment. "That was
very kind of her."
"Aye, it was." She slipped out of her shoes and sat on the
tapestried rug, stretching her legs straight out to let the fire
warm her feet.
"Did you see Richard?"
She shook her head. "He was not in residence."
"Where was the kingdom's greatest warrior? Engaged in a duel with
God, perhaps?"
His remark took her by surprise, and she turned to look at him,
but his back was to her.
He was staring out the window, leaning on the frame, drumming his
fingers restlessly.
"Valentine, is something amiss between you and Richard?"
He shook his head. "Nay, nothing at all. I have been practicing my
fencing skills, so much so that I can barely move my arm, and my
hand is frozen into position around an imaginary sword."
He turned and approached her, standing between her and the fire.
"I am going to duel with him again, and this time I shall beat
him." His voice took on such a vehemence; her heart took a
cautious leap.
"That is really not necessary, Valentine. He wouldn't have won you
so easily hadn't you already been injured."
"But he bested me nonetheless."
"What of it? He could never win his subjects' hearts here the way
you could. That is your forte, and military skills are his. You
have nothing to prove to him."
"I'm not trying to prove aught to him. I must prove it to you!"
Her eyes flew wide. "Me?"
"Then mayhap you will give me a peek into that little rock of a
heart of a heart of yours. Then perhaps I can convince you at last
that it was not merely due to losing a bet that I pursued you, but
that from the moment we met in the palace rose garden, we were
fated to be together."
Her cheeks heated. "There is no need to prove aught to me either.
Save your arm. You need it to wave to the ladies in the stands at
tournaments."
He cocked a brow. "A smile is quite sufficient for them. But it
takes more than diplomacy and statesmanship to be a man in the
true sense. It takes the courage to put your life on the line."
"You are in every sense a man, Valentine," she said sincerely. "I
never questioned that. And of what life are you speaking? Surely
it is not a matter of life and death."
"It is for me!" he said angrily. "I want a good life for us, not
this coldness that passes for civility."
"Aye, cold indeed, Valentine, for you are all man, as I have said,
enough so to completely block my heat," she complained, shifting
over to the side.
He rose and paced in front of her. "‘Tis not the fact that I lost
a duel that bothers
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