His Fair Lady (44 page)

Was Friston Juliana’s kinsman? Royce held
his suspicions. At the moment, the Frenchman stood near the
fireplace, waiting for the outcome of the examination. Though he
did not pace, he fidgeted constantly — flicking his thumb against
his forefinger, pulling on his earlobe, crossing and re-crossing
his arms. ‘Twas clear he was impatient to gain charge of Juliana
and depart England. He’d voiced that desire with irritating
frequency.

It struck Royce as odd that Friston’s
interest lay solely with the heiress and not with her land or the
wealth it might bring him. Not once had Friston asked of Penhurst
or of its dependencies. Royce narrowed his eyes over the man. What
were his true intentions toward Juliana?

The creaking of the door on the opposite
wall drew Royce’s attention. There, three physicians, garbed in
flowing black robes and little square hats, filed out of the
queen’s chambers — these reserved for her ladies-in-waiting and
where, this morning, Juliana’s examination took place. Coming
before the king, they bowed with a flourish and rose.

“Majesty,” the senior physick among them
began importantly. “We’ve completed our directives and have
determined the following concerning the lady’s—”

The king’s hand shot up. “A simple yea or
nay will suffice. I’ve no need of an analysis of the lady’s
intimate parts. Is Lady Juliana a virgin or not?”

“We only thought you would wish to
know—”

“Yea or nay?” the king barked, quelling the
man’s tongue with his glare.

“Nay, Majesty. Lady Juliana is not a virgin.
And recently bedded too,” the physick added quickly.

“Of course
recently
. She’s only just married,” the king
spewed as though the man was dense.

Allowing the physicians no quarter to
divulge more, he signaled for them to withdraw. Royce expelled a
breath of relief as the king’s gaze traveled between himself and
Friston.

“We must now wait on Friar Tupper’s arrival
to confirm or disclaim any marriage. Until such time, Lady Juliana
will continue to remain under my protection. One exception I will
make, however.” The king’s gaze fixed on Royce.

“Since ‘twas Lord Gilbert’s own wish that
you hold guardianship of his granddaughter, and since your claims
to being her husband are thus far borne out, you may publicly
escort Lady Juliana to all services and holiday festivities at
Guildford. In private, however, she will remain in my queen’s
chambers and under guard. I trust you both find that agreeable.”
The king’s eyes shifted to the Frenchman.

Friston bowed stiffly to King John,
his features hard, tense. “As you will, Majesty.” He started to
leave then turned to Royce. “Be assured,
chevalier
, unless a valid marriage can be
proven, I will claim my rights to my cousin by all means necessary.
Meanwhile, as I said before, I’ll be near and watching.”

As the Frenchman quit the chamber, the king
moved to Royce’s side. “When first I sent you on your quest to find
Lady Juliana, I said I’d no intention of losing any of the realm’s
fair maidens. I meant that. I’ll especially not lose any to the
French Court or to its king — the wolf who nips at my heels and
hungers after my lands.” He cocked a brow at Royce, a twinkle in
his eyes. “Of course, Lady Juliana is no longer a maiden, is
she?”

John grinned wide and clapped Royce on the
back as if to congratulate him. He then looked to the queen’s
chambers where the door stood closed once more.

“Your lady will need time to dress and
compose herself. No doubt, Isabella will wish to keep company with
her for a time. My young queen is none too happy about all this, be
assured,” John confided. “Come. Let us see if Marshal has arrived.
He promised to bring wine from Pembroke.”

Royce glanced to the door, chafing to be
with Juliana and assure she was well. Having no recourse, however,
he followed the king from the chamber.

»«

Two hours later, Juliana emerged from
seclusion in the queen’s chambers to accompany Royce to the feast,
about to commence in the hall below. She kept her lashes lowered as
she joined him, too embarrassed to meet his eyes after their
passionate lovemaking last night, followed by the morning’s events.
Royce would have none of it, however. Gently, he framed her face in
his hands and urged her to look at him.

“Are you all right, Juliana?”

Heat flooded her at his touch, her senses
stirring as she remembered how his hands had moved over her, how
she’d surrendered to him totally.

“Juliana?” he asked again, concern filling
his voice.

“I-I’m all right.” She nodded. Still she
could not bring herself to meet his gaze.

“What is it? I caused you pain last night,
perhaps more than I realized.” His concern turned to worry. “Or is
it the physicians? Did they harm you in any way?”

“Nay, Royce. I am fine, truly.”

“What then?” His hands slid to her
shoulders.

“It’s just that . . . what we did together .
. . in the dark . . . I even scratched your back.”

“Ah, sweet Juliana, do not be embarrassed by
what we shared. I am not. I shall treasure those moments always, as
I hope you will.”

Royce enfolded her in his arms, kissing her
tenderly, giving her no chance to reply. Juliana’s heart raced as
she melted into him, his clean, manly scent surrounding her. Sweet
Jesus, how she wished to remain in his embrace always. If only that
could be.

“Come now, my lady. ‘Tis Christmas Eve, and
you’ll not want to miss the spectacles planned for today’s
feast.”

Juliana smiled up at Royce, meeting his eyes
finally, her heart full of love for her gallant knight. Placing her
hand atop his forearm, she accompanied him downstairs, assured no
one else would know of what had transpired between them. But as
they joined the bright assemblage of lords and ladies in the fore
chamber of the great Hall, many knowing glances turned their
way.

“Congratulations to you both!” one man
called out while another gave a friendly clout to Royce’s back,
echoing the greeting. More crowded round them.

“Secret nuptials? Shame on you, sir, for
depriving us the merry ceremonials of a wedding and a bedding!”

“Can’t say I blame you,” interjected a
long-bearded knight. “Your bride is a delectable creature. If you
find you need help fulfilling your duties, I am near.”

Many good-natured jests and winks were
tossed Royce’s way, while the ladies fluttered about Juliana giving
her hugs and kisses on her cheeks, the entire Court seemingly abuzz
with news of their supposed marriage. A few men sent disgruntled
looks Royce’s way. Juliana recognized them to be suitors who’d
offered unsuccessfully for her hand.

As the flow of wishes continued, Juliana
tugged on Royce’s sleeve. “Royce, everyone knows about last
night!”

“About last night? Nay, my heart,” he
replied for her hearing alone. “But, they do assume we’ve lain
together. ‘Tis what newly wedded couples do, after all — make love,
every day, many times over.”

“What?” she squeaked. “You mean, they think
. . ?” “Aye, many times over.” He beamed, unabashed, as he accepted
another couple’s well-wishes.

“Royce de Warrene, you are not the least
embarrassed. You even look pleased by their assumptions.”

“Enormously, I’ll not deny it. I’m proud for
others to know I’ve claimed you as my own.” He dropped a kiss below
her ear. “My only regret is that I’ve not enjoyed your sweet favors
as ofttimes as everyone seems to think I have. Mayhap we should
seek to remedy that.”

“Royce!” Her gaze flew to his, his
admittance sending a secret thrill spiraling through her.

“Ohhhh, Lady Juliana, I am so happy for
you!” gushed Lady Blythe, appearing beside her and clasping her
hands.

For a moment, Juliana caught sight of
Friston’s black-clad figure across the room. She quickly turned
back to Lady Blythe. At the same time, Royce slipped his hand to
the small of Juliana’s back, a possessive but reassuring gesture.
Had he spied the Frenchman as well?

Juliana began to relax and enjoy the
attentions showered on her and Royce. Just as she warmed to her
role as a new bride, Lady Sibylla swept grandly into view. Without
hesitation, the countess walked straight up to Royce and slapped
him hard across the face. Her nostrils flared as she flayed him
with dark, furious eyes, her features brittle with anger. She cast
a withering gaze over Juliana, then hoisted her chin high and,
giving them both her back, stalked away.

Royce rubbed his jaw. “‘Twould seem our
happy news did not set well with Countess Linford.”

“Indeed.” Juliana glanced after Sibylla, the
magic of the moment gone, reality crashing down on her like a wave
of frigid water. Juliana knew she must speak with the countess,
explain what had happened, and set things aright between her and
Royce. Juliana had promised she would. ‘Twas one promise she
loathed to keep.

Trumpets blared as the king and queen
appeared and led the noble crowd into the hall, calling for the
celebrations to begin. Noon stretched toward eve amid extravagant
feasting on peacock and swan. Marvels of entertainment punctuated
the courses — presentations of wind and stringed instruments, and
singing ensembles that danced the carols. Mummers in fanciful
costumes flooded into the hall, reciting verse and tossing dice
with guests, rewarding the winners with rings of gold.

While the festivities swirled around them,
Juliana was ever aware of Friston. His eyes seldom left her and he
appeared seemingly at every turn. On the other hand, she remained
painfully conscious of the countess, who held a place befitting her
station, far above that of the minor barons where she and Royce
sat. The distinction served only to fortify Juliana’s resolve for
what she must do.

When the day’s dinner and entertainments
concluded, the nobles retired to their chambers to refresh
themselves and prepare for the evening supper and diversions yet to
come. Juliana took the opportunity to send Luvena to Lady Sibylla,
requesting an audience. Luvena soon returned, however, having been
recognized as Juliana’s maid and rebuffed.

Juliana next sent for Guy of Lisors, knowing
him to be trained in letters. When he arrived, she asked him to
record and deliver a missive to Countess Linford as a personal
favor. Tears rimmed Juliana’s eyes as she dictated the words, her
sorrow not lost on the minstrel.

“Write that Royce de Warrene is the most
chivalrous of men — the most brave and wonderful and most
self-sacrificing of all. He seeks only to protect me from the
Frenchman, Rennart de Friston, whose intentions toward me are
questionable at best.”

She swiped at the tears that had begun to
fall. “Write that naught is as it seems, and that I urge her
patience. When the matter with Friston is resolved, all will be
explained. She will find Royce’s honor untarnished. She will also
find him free and able to marry her.” Juliana bowed her head, tears
spilling hotly over her cheeks.

“My lady are you certain you wish me to
deliver this? Perhaps Sir Royce should see it.”

“Nay, he’ll seek to change my mind. He is
too noble for his own good. He is a great man, with a great destiny
to fulfill. I know it in my heart. I also know I am a stone about
his neck, an anchor that will weigh him down. I can bring him only
a baronial lordship, while Sibylla can bring him an earldom and the
power such destiny requires.”

“But my lady, you love him. Is this not
so?”

Juliana nodded sadly. “With all my heart,
which is why you must deliver the letter, that he may become the
man he must, for the good of all, not just one — not just me.”

“But what of you, Lady Juliana? Will you
seek another match? Another man to become Lord of Penhurst?”

“Nay.” She shook her head firmly. “Royce
alone holds my heart. There is no other, nor shall there ever be. I
shall seek cloister. Go now, friend.” Her voice broke as tears
blurred her vision. “Deliver the missive. Help me give my love the
future he deserves.”

“As you will, my lady.” The minstrel
withdrew on silent feet, leaving her to her private misery.

»«

Guy of Lisors closed the door quietly
behind him and started down the corridor, his mood heavy. He’d
almost completed his
lai
of
the couple, with all its surprising twists and turns. Their story
needed only a proper resolution — or rather, a satisfying
one.

He considered the missive in his hand,
thought of Lady Juliana’s heart-wringing words, of the sacrifice
she was prepared to make. Again he considered the message and the
outcome it would likely bring. He didn’t care for that particular
ending to the couple’s story. Not at all.

Folding the parchment in fours, he slipped
it into his tunic. Guy’s thoughts ran ahead of him as he changed
his direction and took another passageway. There was one thing he
could do. One thing that might make a difference.

»«

The revels and feasting lasted deep into the
night, many of the nobles disguising themselves in elaborate
costumes to perform stories in dance and song. They posed as
dragons and wildmen, elephants and angels. Juliana might have been
able to set aside her unhappiness for a time and enjoy the fun had
it not been for Lady Sibylla’s vivid presence and Rennart de
Friston, ever shadowing her about the hall.

Royce occupied her every moment, however,
engaging her as they dined and leading her into dance after dance,
keeping her wholly to himself. He grew pensive at times, his gaze
settling intensely upon her. Juliana wondered if he brooded over
what Friar Tupper would say once he arrived at Guildford, and what
would come of their dilemma. Royce confided that he’d sent ahead
two of Penhurst’s men-at-arms to apprise the friar of what had
taken place. Hopefully, they’d reach the monk before the king’s
men.