Once Upon A Time (Historical Romance) (20 page)

Jilliana was seated beside Sir James and she soon found herself being drawn into conversation with him and Cassandra.

"What do you think of our island, Your Majesty," Sir James asked.

"I... find it beautiful."

"Do not be fooled by its beauty. We have many obstacles that must be overcome before it can be a paradise."

Jilliana was interested in his ideas. "What obstacles, Sir James?"

"You would think that being an island, we would be blessed with rain, but that is not so. We have three great rivers, but they reach only the center of the island, leaving the farmers on the outer regions without water to grow their crops."

Jilliana took a sip of wine and then frowned in thoughtfulness. "I believe the answer to your problems would be aqueducts. The Castilians have mastered the technique quite well, and I am surprised Queen Melesant has not implemented this type of irrigation."

"I had not heard of this. As you might have been told, we are isolated from the rest of the world. Because of the dangerous crosswinds, few ships come to our shores—" He lowered his voice. "Besides, the Castilians that guard the castle are not a learned lot."

"As it was explained to me," Jilliana said, "the river headwaters are harnessed and diverted through a rock base. Since the outlet is much lower than the water source, gravity carries the water to its destination."

Sir James smiled widely. "Simple, yet I wonder that we have not thought of it. I must discuss your ideas with Prince Ruyen after dinner. Perhaps we can get more information and implement the aqueducts on our island."

Jilliana raised her eyes and found Ruyen glaring at her. Did he detest her so much that he would shame her for all to see?

She felt suddenly weary. The only people she liked on this island were Cassandra and Sir James. She wanted more than ever to leave, and perhaps she would soon.

Melesant was at her most charming with Humphrey. She offered him special tidbits from her own plate and flirted with him outrageously.

"Tell me about your queen," she said slyly. "Is she popular in Talshamar?"

"I know of no one there who would not gladly die for her," Humphrey said. "We only await the day when she returns home to rule her people."

"I had worried when I heard about this marriage that Ruyen had been yoked to some poverty-stricken monarch who would be a drain on our treasury. If her jewels are any indication, Talshamar must be prosperous."

"My queen has no need of anything from Falcon Bruine," he said, choosing his words carefully.

"That is not quite true, Lord Baldridge, she wants an heir from my son." She placed her claw-like hand on his arm. "Is it true that the Talshamarians actually prefer a female ruler to a male?"

Again he chose his words carefully. He had a feeling that this woman never asked meaningless questions. He would not be drawn into her game, however, and would tell her as little as possible. "Our strongest rulers have been women. Queen Jilliana's mother was a great example of that."

"Ah, yes, but she died, did she not? Foolish for her not to cooperate with Henry."

"Foolish, Your Majesty? We in Talshamar think of her rather as a queen who placed the good of the people above all else."

"Yes, but she is still dead. What good can that do for Talshamar?"

"I wonder," Humphrey said, gauging his words carefully so that they would not appear to be an insult, "how many queens could be so revered after death as Queen Phelisiana."

Melesant became silent as she pondered his words. When one was dead, one would not care whether they were hated or adored.

"Is it true," she said at last, "that Talshamar is a wealthy realm?"

"Our children play happily and our people go to bed at night with a full belly," Humphrey told her.

"How can this be when Talshamar has been without a ruling sovereign since the death of Queen Phelisiana? I know not who was the steward in your young queen's absence."

"Before her death, Queen Phelisiana appointed a man of the Holy Church, whom she trusted above all others to oversee Talshamar until Queen Jilliana returned."

"Rome has been known to dip its hands indiscriminately into many treasure houses," Melesant said cynically.

"Queen Phelisiana chose her man well, and thanks be to God, under his stewardship, Talshamar has prospered."

Melesant's eyes glazed over with greed. She must find a way to control Jilliana. She glanced down the table at the diamond crown that sat atop the head of her son's wife, its brilliance sending prisms of light flashing across the walls.

Melesant's hand tightened on her wine glass. She would not be happy until that crown sat atop her own head.

22

After dinner, Jilliana watched Katharine hang on to Ruyen's arm, and she felt humiliated by his disregard of her feelings. She could not blame Lady Katharine for the poisonous looks she cast her way, but she did blame Ruyen.

She looked at Ruyen, his dark head bent to hear something Lady Katharine was saying to him. How had he explained their marriage to his ladylove? Whatever he had said seemed to have appeased Katharine.

After conversing for a time with Sir James and Cassandra, Jilliana took leave of Ruyen's mother and left the room as quickly as she could.

Katharine watched her departure enviously. "Her gowns are quite nice, Ruyen. When a woman has a large nose, she must dress grandly to draw attention away from that defect. I believe her eyes are uncommonly dull, too, do you not think so?"

Ruyen looked down at Katharine, wondering what she was talking about. Jilliana's nose large? He had never thought so. He saw expectancy in Katharine's eyes and knew he was expected to make a comment.

"She dresses as a queen." He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Now if you will excuse me, I have something that requires my attention."

Katharine's voice was hard. "You have not missed me at all. You are going to her?"

He had not seen Katharine jealous before, and he blamed himself for bringing out such an emotion in her. His voice was kind when he spoke to her. "No, Katharine, I am not. I am going into the village."

On his way out, Ruyen encountered his mother.

"Your little queen is quite lovely. I would like to know her better, yet it has not escaped my notice that she seems distrustful of me."

His words were cynical. "Why ever can that be, Mother? Perhaps she has felt my distrust for you and taken it as her own."

"Do not be bitter, Ruyen, it does no one any good. I know how you are feeling."

"You know nothing about me, Mother."

Melesant decided she must win her son's trust. She laid her hand on his. "Would you like me to dismiss the guests so we can have our talk now?"

He moved his hand away from hers. "Now is not a good time for me."

She stared after him as he moved out the door. He truly disliked her, and she wondered why she cared—but she did.

While Netta was helping her undress, Jilliana was becoming more annoyed by the moment. Ruyen had not spoken to her all evening, and the others must have noticed. Perhaps he had ignored her to placate Katharine, but whatever the reason, she felt the insult to the core of her heart.

"What kind of people are these, Netta, that they speak in riddles and hidden innuendos, never saying what they mean, and leaving one to puzzle on their purpose?"

"I have found the servants nervous and watchful of every word they speak. I have heard enough to know that they are fearful of being overheard by the spies who have been planted among them by that man called Escobar."

"We must be very careful, Netta. I trust no one here save Princess Cassandra. That child is like a rose growing on a thorn bush, an innocent living among vipers."

They both lapsed into silence while Netta brushed Jilliana's hair.

Jilliana could not keep her mind from straying to Ruyen. That he did not like his mother was easy to see, but was he so different from her?

At that moment, in another part of the castle, Humphrey followed a maidservant up a second flight of stairs, and down a long, dimly lit corridor. The servant had come to his chamber with a message that Queen Melesant desired his presence. He had somehow expected her to send for him, but he did not think it would be so soon.

The servant pushed open a door, bobbed a curtsy and hastily left. He entered the room with caution. Queen Melesant came forward with a glowing smile on her face. Her formal gown had been replaced by a dressing robe, and her dark hair hung loosely about her shoulders.

"I am glad you came, Lord Baldridge. I have many questions to ask of you, and we will not be interrupted here."

The chamber was unlike the rest of the castle. There was a rug on the floor and tapestries graced the walls. There was a huge bed with purple hangings and bed covering. "If this is your bedchamber, Madame, it would be best if I left. I would not like to cause gossip."

She sauntered up to him, her eyes like those of a feline, and she almost purred. "This is not my bedchamber. Only a few are allowed in this room. It is where I can be alone from prying eyes and no one ever comes here without invitation. If you are concerned about the servant who brought you to me, she is very discreet."

"It is late, Madame, and I am weary. Perhaps we can have this conversation on the morrow."

Melesant gave a throaty laugh. "I believe you are afraid of me, Humphrey. I have wondered all day what it would feel like to be crushed in those powerful arms of yours. You are a striking man."

She reached out and touched his cheek, and he took several steps backward.

"Why, my dear sir, you
are
frightened of me."

"Not frightened, Madame. I know you are just recently widowed, and as for myself, I have a wife."

"Your wife will never know, and if my husband were alive, I doubt he would care."

Humphrey stared into her eyes. "You are assuming, Madame, that I would want what you offer. I don't."

She could hardly believe that he was uninterested in her. No man had ever turned away from her when she wanted him—no man until now.

Perhaps he misunderstood her. She walked to him, allowing the sleeve of her dressing gown to fall off her shoulder and reveal her breasts. Her arms slid around his neck, and she pressed her cheek to his.

"It could be so good between us. I know it could."

He took her wrists and held them in a strong grip. "You will excuse me if I decline your offer, Madame. I have not to this day been faithless to my wife, and I will not start with you."

She hissed and jerked her hands free. Now that she was angry, she lapsed into a heavy Castilian accent. "Run away like a frightened little rabbit. I thought you were a man, but you're not! You'll be sorry for this."

"Good night, Madame." Humphrey left, closing the door behind him, but he could hear the obscenities she hurled at him as he moved down the corridor. This woman was dangerous, and he must warn Jilliana.

Melesant lay beneath Escobar, her anger at being rejected by Humphrey driving her into a fervid frenzy. She rolled on top, straddled him and rode the wave of passion.

She smiled in satisfaction as Escobar groaned, pressing her tighter against him.

"Say no other woman can satisfy you as I," she demanded, running her tongue along the lobe of his ear.

"No one can!" he cried.

"You will never leave me," she said, biting his lip until she drew blood.

"Never."

When the act was completed, she felt strangely empty and unfulfilled. Escobar could no longer give her what she wanted. She would have to look elsewhere for a lover.

"I am weary tonight. Seek your rest in your own bed," she said, rolling to her side.

"Will you not want me again during the night?"

"I told you to go! Leave me in peace."

He moved off the bed and quietly dressed, all the while watching her rigid back.

"Are you angry about the food I distributed to the villagers?"

She turned over and sat up, her eyes piercing pinpoints. "You did what!"

"I tried to tell you earlier. I... thought... you knew— your son bade me take food and livestock to the villagers. He threatened to kill me if I went to you or if I did not do as he asked."

Melesant stared at him, but she was thinking of her son. There was so much anger eating away at Ruyen that it might become difficult for her to control him.

"Who are you more afraid of, my son or me?"

Escobar shivered. "This afternoon, I knew I faced death."

Melesant surprised him with her laughter. "So it begins. I had thought it would take longer."

He looked puzzled. "What begins?"

"My son's defiance. He is like me, afraid of nothing," she said with pride. "He will test my limits, but he will not win."

"You are not angry with me?"

She looked at him as if he were nothing. "I should be, but I'm not. You were merely the instrument my son used to strike the first blow at me."

"The villagers knew the food came from him. He is buying their loyalty."

She arched her brow at him. "And you helped him. You who have professed your lasting loyalty to me."

He backed toward the door. "I .. . had not thought of that. I will always stand beside you. Had I known—"

"This is not about you, Escobar. It is a battle that has been building between my son and myself for many years. You see, my son does not admire his mother, and he does not approve of you. He will bring me down if he is able." She gave Escobar a sly look. "And if I were you, I would avoid him whenever possible."

"I heard many rumblings among the people. It seems that food in their bellies makes them bold. They say Prince Ruyen is the rightful ruler. You must be careful, for they have no love for you."

Melesant arched her breasts toward him and pulled the covers aside incitingly. "And you will protect me from all my enemies, will you not, my brave champion? You will sacrifice your life for me?"

He came to her eagerly. "Yes, I shall. I would die in your stead, but I would rather live for you."

She ran her hand down her naked body, toying with him as a cat would toy with a mouse. "You still want me."

Escobar moved toward her eagerly. To him she had always been beautiful. He did not see the wrinkles or the sagging skin or even the gray in her dark hair. She was a queen, and when he was with her, he was touched by her magnificence.

Melesant threw back her head and laughed, pointing toward the door. "Well, I do not want you. After this night, you will never come to my bed again."

He shook his head, backing to the door. He had always feared the day she would tire of him, and that day had come at last.

"Leave!" she cried. "I cannot abide the sight of you. Go at once!"

He did not remember going through the door, nor did he recall going down the steps and out the side door to stand beneath the stars.

"No." He moaned, "No. I have waited too long for you to be free so we can always be together. No one can have you save me ... no one."