The Marriage Prize (21 page)

Demi's bedchamber.

Rosamond did not have a minute to waste. A wedding gown

and new garments were being made by Lady Eleanor's

sewing women, and she spent much time in the solar helping

with the preparations for both the wedding and the Yule. Nan

helped her into her peacock velvet gown with the smal train.

Tonight she and Sir Rodger would sit on the dais with Lord

Edward, Lady Eleanor, and Earl Simon, to be feted for their

upcoming marriage by al of Kenilworth.

"Rickard de Burgh is back from Ireland; have you seen him

yet?" Demi asked, as her maid threaded pearls through her

dark curls.

"Rickard de Burgh . . . did he bring his bride back with him?"

Rosamond asked breathlessly, crushing down her emotions at

the mere mention of his name.

"Sir Rickard isn't married, Rosamond."

"But... but I thought he returned to Ireland to wed—"

"No, no, you have it mixed up. It was his twin brother, Michael.

It was Mick de Burgh who took a wife."

Rosamond sank down on the edge of her bed in shock as the

blood slowly drained from her face. Then shock gradual y

turned to anger. Rodger de Leyburn had deceived her. Her

temper simmered and then sizzled as she realized he had

done it deliberately. He had no doubt figured that if she

believed that Sir Rickard de Burgh had pledged his troth to

another, she would stop mooning over Sir Rickard and be

more receptive to his own seduction of her. When her fury

reached the point of explosion, she acted upon it.

116

Eleven

You bastard!" Rosamond stood on the threshold of Rodger de

Leyburn's chamber in the Warwick lower. With her hands on

her hips and her chin held high, she added more invective.

"You manipulating swine! You deliberately misled me to

believe that Sir Rickard de Burgh had returned to Ireland to be

married. Wel , sir, he is back at Ke-nilworth with no bride in

evidence!"

"Rosamond, I do not appreciate foul language and insolence

in a lady, and certainly not a wife." His face was grim, his

words forbidding, but she heeded not the warning.

"Rot in hel !" Rosamond turned on her heel and kicked the

train of her peacock gown with the hauteur of a countess.

He clamped a powerful hand on her arm and whirled her to

face him. "Never turn your back on me again, lady. If you want

a knockdown fight with me, be woman enough to stand your

ground. What possible difference does it make to you whether

Sir Rickard de Burgh is wed or not?"

Rosamond's cheeks tinted pink. He was trying to goad an

admission from her. "Remove your hand from me, sir. Such

possessive gestures are inappropriate from you, for you wil

never own one smal part ofme."

Rather than removing his hand, Rod clamped the other one to

her, cupping both shoulders. "I shal , Rosamond," he vowed. "I shal !"

De Leyburn was far stronger than she, and the only way

Rosamond could hurt him was with words. She laughed in his

face. "You wil never have my heart; I lost it long ago to Sir

Rickard, as you wel know, or you would not have found it

necessary to lie about him!"

Rod's green eyes narrowed, masking his jealousy. "He can

keep your heart. I'l settle for your body... and your castles."

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"You devil, de Leyburn! You are mad if you think I would marry

you now; the wedding is off!"

"Do not delude yourself, Rosamond, you wil be my wife!"

******************

parchment of the Provisions of Oxford on the black oak table

and held it steady for the prince. Lord Edward dipped the quil

and with a bold flourish signed Edward Plantagenet.

Rodger de Leyburn's speculative gaze traveled from Lord

Edward to Earl Simon. Which of the two would emerge as top

dog? Each would use the other to achieve his goal. But in any

encounter between two men, one dominated, the other

acquiesced; one led, the other fol owed. In the short term, Earl

Simon would be the leader, but de Leyburn knew Edward

Plantagenet better than any man breathing, and he had no

doubt who the ultimate victor would be. But for the present, the

spirited warhorse and the young stal ion, in harness together,

would make a formidable team. Rod knew that neither of them

acted for personal glory alone, but for a better government, a

better England. Both men believed that the end justified the

means, and to a point, so did he.

"If it suits your plans, Edward, I would like to depart for London the day after Christmas," Simon declared.

"We would have celebrated Christmas at Windsor if Sir

Rodger's wedding were not imminent. We wil hold the New

Year's celebrations there instead. I wil bil et my Gascons at

the Tower of London."

"It is good strategy to keep your fighting men close by you,"

the earl said. "In London, trouble can flare up at any time."

Rod did not mention that Rosamond Marshal was again

refusing to marry him. He stil had two days to change her

mind. As he and Edward left the earl's private quarters in the

Caesar Tower, the prince said, "I am more convinced than

ever that de Montfort intends to make me king. I would like to

do something to reward him. Not merely a costly gift for

Christmas, but rather something that would honor him. Any

suggestions?"

Rod's mind worked quickly. "Why don't you knight one of his

sons? It would honor him above al things."

"Splendor of God, you always know exactly the right thing to

do.

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Which son? Simon is his namesake, but it had best be Henry,

his heir. I wil knight him at your wedding celebration!"

Rod knew there might be no wedding celebration if he did not

act decisively. He excused himself from Lord Edward and with

firm resolve sought out Sir Rickard de Burgh. The Irish warrior

was the barrier that stood between himself and Rosamond,

and Rod was determined to remove that barrier. He already

felt envy for the Irish knight, and now he had to add jealousy, if

he was being honest.

******************

You are to be wed on the morrow—what on earth is going on,

Rosamond?" Lady Eleanor could not hide her annoyance.

She had a hundred things to see to for the Yule celebration

and another hundred for her household's removal to Durham

House at Charing Cross, just outside the city of London.

"I have cal ed off the wedding, Lady Eleanor. I cannot marry

Rodger de Leyburn."

"What nonsense, you cannot cal it off—the plans are set. You

are just having the jitters; al brides suffer such misgivings."

"Sir Rodger lied to me—he manipulated me so that I would

agree to the marriage."

"Rosamond, al men manipulate to get their way, aye and

women too for that matter. 'Tis human nature. The betrothal

has stood for years. You cannot play fast and loose with the

man, saying yea one minute, nay the next. The two of you have

traveled together—in the eyes of the world you are lovers. If

you create a scandal now, no other man wil have you."

Rosamond flushed rosily. How could she deny they were

lovers when they had slept in the same bed? "He wants only

my castles," she protested lamely.

"That shows he is ambitious, a quality to be admired.

Rosamond, you are thinking only of yourself. Earl Simon wants

this marriage; Lord Edward wants this marriage. The nuptials

wil help cement the bond that grows between them, and that

bond is of paramount importance to the future of England. I

want you to go up to the solar and let Hilda give you the final

fitting for your gown."

119

Rosamond lowered her lashes to mask the defiance she felt. /

am just a pawn in their political power struggle! she told

herself. She curtsied and headed for the stairs. Rosamond

did not go to the solar, however. She went up to Kenilworth's

battlements, into the cold fresh air where she could think. She

fil ed her lungs with the invigorating winter air and gazed out

over the sere landscape that showed pockets of snow lying

beneath leafless trees.

Rodger de Leyburn dominated her thoughts. Why had he lied

to her? Could it possibly have been because he was jealous

of her feelings for Sir Rickard de Burgh? Her heart skipped a

beat. If Rodger was jealous, did it mean his feelings for her

ran deep? Nay, he had lied to get his own way!

"Rosamond . . . my lady." The beautiful voice with its Irish lilt brought her from her reverie.

She turned from the crenel ated wal , and her eyes widened

when she saw who spoke to her. "Sir Rickard," she breathed,

unable to finish her sentence or even her thought. Had she

conjured him? Rumor had it that he was a warlock with special

powers. His resemblance to de Ley-burn was quite strong.

They had the same green eyes and jet black hair, the same

lithe and powerful build. Rosamond shivered.

"Permit me, lady." Sir Rickard drew off his cloak and gently laid it across her shoulders. Rosamond saw the weathered

lines about his eyes and mouth, the silver threads in his ebony

hair. "Would you walk with me, Rosamond?"

His manner was so chivalrous, she felt almost mesmerized.

She placed her fingers on his outstretched arm and walked

beside him. "You... you are newly returned from Ireland, Sir

Rickard?"

"Yes, I carried messages to my father from Earl Simon."

"Is it true that your brother was married while you were there?"

she asked in a rush.

"Yes, Mick was married," he said reflectively. "I understand you are to be wed tomorrow?"

"No! That is, I was to be married, but I have changed my

mind."

"Sadly, that seems to be a lady's prerogative. I hope you have

good reason, Rosamond. I hope it has naught to do with me."

Rosamond was aghast. Who had told him she fancied herself

in

120

love with him? Demi? Lady Eleanor? "I... I did have a

tendresse for you, Sir Rickard . . . you are such a chivalrous

knight... it was only a girlish fancy," she confessed. "Then my betrothed deliberately lied to me, tel ing me you had returned

to Ireland to be wed." She laughed nervously. "I imagined

myself to be heartbroken."

He placed a comforting hand over her fingers. "Sir Rodger did

not lie to you, my dear. I did return to Ireland to be wed."

Rosamond stopped walking and searched his dark face.

"When I returned to Connaught, the lady told me she could not

live with the special powers I have, and that in my absence

she had fal en in love with my twin brother. Mick is far less

complicated than I am."

"Oh, my lord, I am so very sorry! I know what it is to lose

someone you love," she said passionately.

"Nay, Rosamond, 'twas no great tragedy. I lost my heart years

ago to another. One I could never have."

She gazed up into his eyes and suddenly she knew. "It was

Lady Eleanor, wasn't it?"

He smiled, remembering. "Princess Eleanor, already wed to

the marshal of England. When he died, she swore a vow of

chastity and almost became a nun."

"Earl Simon married the woman you loved," she said wistful y.

"I rejoiced that he did so. She needed a man strong enough to

stand up to the king, and the bishops, even the Pope."

"But you loved her, Sir Rickard!"

His lips curved into a smile. His mouth was beautiful. "When

you truly love someone, you want what is best for them. Earl

Simon was best for Eleanor." He lifted her fingers to his lips.

"Rodger de Leyburn is best for you, Rosamond."

She took in a swift breath. It seemed she was the only one in

the world unsure of this marriage. "How do you know that?"

she demanded. "Is it your gift of second sight?"

Rickard de Burgh laughed softly. "Some consider it a curse,

not a gift. I don't want to frighten you, my dear, but the future

brings a great conflict. Rodger de Leyburn's strength and

position wil give you the protection you need. It wil be a rough

road for al , but in the end you wil not just survive, you wil

flourish."

121

As she looked up into his eyes, she saw that they were not

real y like de Leyburn's at al . Though Rickard de Burgh

looked at her, he did not real y see her—he saw some vision.

When de Leyburn's bold green gaze was upon her, he not only

saw her, he undressed her! Lady Eleanor's words came back

to her: Sir Rickard is a most chivalrous knight, and devas-

tatingly attractive, hut far too old for you, darling. You lost your

heart to him because he was like a father to you, much as

Wil iam Marshal was to me. I didn't realize it, of course, until

after I fel passionately in love with Simon de Montfort. And it

wil be so with you and Rod.

"Thank you for sharing this confidence with me, Sir Rickard. I

wil think hard on what you have told me." Rosamond handed

his cloak back to him and descended from Kenilworth's

battlements.

When she entered her chamber, she found her wedding dress