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Authors: Emma Campion

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“Master Thorne is most kind, but overstates my ability,” I said. “I do enjoy riding, and Serenity is a most beloved companion.”

Janyn’s high forehead creased in thought. “You have named your mare Serenity? You are a delight.” His eyes lit up and his tanned face crinkled into a teasing grin. “But you will not ride her for long.
She is slow and wanting in refinement. I chose her only while you learned.”

In that moment the maturity the gorgeous clothing had loaned me collapsed and I felt young and silly. I could not bear to think of parting with Serenity. I loved her. I felt foolish for not having understood that she was not a grand horse. I turned away from him and prayed that I might regain my composure.

“Shall we be seated?” Dame Agnes said, motioning to Janyn to join Grandfather at the beautifully decorated table. With her hand beneath my elbow, she held me back. “He meant no harm by his smile, Alice,” she whispered, “and I am certain that he will allow you to keep the mare at your country house. Take a deep breath and be of good cheer. You look beautiful and he adores you.”

I had not thought about how difficult it would be to sustain the behavior now expected of me. But I reminded myself there was no returning to my parents’ house, and I was most fortunate to be betrothed to a man so much to my taste. Securing this marriage was worth every effort on my part.

I took the deep breath Grandmother prescribed and followed her to the table. With each step I tried to grow a little taller and more graceful, and although I was not smiling by the time I took my seat, I was composed.

Dame Agnes gave me a smile that expressed her relief that I had not made a fuss.

“You have the nutty color of a man who has been at sea,” Grandfather said to Janyn, who bowed his elegant head in response.

“The sun shone down on me as I crossed the Channel, it is true. Trade took me to France and Lombardy.”

“Do you often cross the Channel, Master Janyn, or do your factors do more of the travel for you?” asked Dame Agnes.

“As a widower I had little to hold me here, so I often made the journey. But now”—he glanced at me—“I hope to make much greater use of my factors.”

I blushed. “I am glad of that,” I murmured, managing a tremulous smile.

It seemed to please all at the table. Conversation continued along pleasant avenues with stories of the journey and Grandfather’s anecdotes about my riding lessons.

Janyn invited me and my grandparents to dine at his London home the following day.

“As we are to wed in less than a month, I am eager to show Alice her new home so that she may advise me on what I must do to ensure her comfort. I would be delighted if you would escort her to our home tomorrow, Master Edmund, Dame Agnes, so that we might confer and then discuss our plans over supper.”

Our
home. Janyn had taken my hand and squeezed it while he said that, and when he was finished he kissed it and looked into my eyes with such an affectionate expression that my heart fluttered.

Grandfather regretted that he must attend a guild event on the morrow. “But Dame Agnes and Alice are the ones you need there, and they will surely attend you.”

M
Y FUTURE
home was much like Janyn’s parents’ house, the street façade matching that of its neighbors except that it was slightly larger, with more chimneys. And, like that of his parents, Janyn’s hall door opened onto a fantastic world of color and light. Breathless I stood, letting my eyes feast on the wall hangings; the cushions; the delicately painted wood and embroidered cloth; statues; shelves and cabinets displaying pewter, wood, and silver dishes, and Italian glass goblets, pitchers, and flasks.

I could not imagine what I might add or change. A fit of shyness overtook me a few steps into the hall.

“Sweet Alice, this is to be your home,” said Janyn. “I hoped you would be curious.”

I needed little more coaxing, for I did so wish to explore. I found the cushions wondrously thick and comfortable and the fabrics more than pleasing to the touch. The pewter was as fine as I’d seen in churches.

“That is York pewter,” said Janyn. “The finest.”

“Everything is not only beautiful, but well cared for,” I said. “My compliments to the housekeeper. Will I meet her today?”

The question apparently reminded Janyn of something troubling. “Gertrude is away at our country house today. And therein lies a difficulty. Angelo, the cook, encountered a problem earlier and became so intent on solving it that he is now very late in getting the food to the table.”

Dame Agnes assured Janyn that she would find a way to save the day, and taking Gwen with her she retired to the kitchen.

Janyn’s air of unease dissolved as soon as they disappeared. I wondered whether he had arranged for just such a crisis so that we might be alone.

“At last,” he said with a conspiratorial grin. “We will be more comfortable discussing the decorations for the bedchamber without an audience, do you not agree?”

I liked that I had guessed correctly. He seemed more approachable now, less a cipher. It was the sort of thing Geoffrey and I might plot.

“What I have seen so far is beautiful, Janyn.” I smiled up at him and put my hand in the crook of his arm. “I should like to see the bedchamber.” My own boldness surprised me.

As we climbed the outer staircase to the upper story he said, “Before returning to London I spent a day at Castle Rising, the home of Isabella, the Queen Mother. She is eager to meet you, Alice.”

I noticed a hint of concern in his voice. I had debated with myself whether or not to inform him that I already knew of his friendship with her, and had decided that I would act surprised, protecting my relationship with Gwen. I took his slight unease as a sign that I had judged correctly, that this relationship demanded discretion.

As we reached the upper landing, I turned to him. He touched my cheek with the back of his hand, a gentle, loving gesture that seemed effortless. I was learning that he was not a man who must needs struggle to express affection and I loved him all the more for that. I lightly pressed my face into his hand. Just a subtle gesture. I did not linger, staying just long enough to sense that he’d felt my response. I was discovering I enjoyed the repartee of touch.

“The king’s dam, Janyn? In truth? How come you to be acquainted with her?” I had no need to feign breathlessness though it had little to do with Isabella.

“I know her by a long connection through my mother’s family, who have negotiated Her Grace’s purchases of fine artwork and jewelry from northern Italy. Her Grace has a keen appreciation for Italian design.”

“I can imagine Dame Tommasa in her beautiful new surcoat with the celestial bodies, bowing to the dowager queen. You were teasing me, saying that she might wear such elegant clothing in Italy. She might wear it to entertain the queen mother!”

I could see in his eyes that my excitement delighted him. But there was still a hint of something as he said, “No, I was not teasing. She
might wear such a robe in Milan.” He smiled and pulled me close. But we were interrupted by a servant opening the outside door to us. We exchanged rueful glances and then stepped into a passageway. It seemed like a screens passage, off which doors opened. I’d never seen one in an upper story. The house was larger than I had guessed. The servant opened another door farther down the passage and stepped aside.

“Mistress, Master,” she said with a little bow and a gesture toward the room.

The bedchamber was at least twice the size of Dame Agnes’s and filled with light from several glazed windows on the south wall. Glazed windows in a bedchamber seemed an indulgence only the very wealthy might even consider. It was more simply furnished than the hall below, but everything was beautifully made and costly. I immediately moved about, touching surfaces, feeling fabrics.

When the servant had stepped back into the screens passage and closed the door behind her, Janyn spoke. “You will never guess who I found to be Her Grace’s guests.”

At last we came to the news that Geoffrey had first brought me. I had wondered how long it would take for Janyn to confide in me. “The king and queen?” I played at guessing. Fortunately my activity made it easy for me to hide my face.

“Your parents.”

I was standing by the great bed, running my hands over the silken bed curtains. “What wonder is this? The dowager Queen Isabella and my parents?” Now I turned, and my expression must have been sufficiently amazed. “Janyn, you tease me.”

He broke into a glorious smile and laughed, a deep-throated laugh. “I speak the truth. Your father did think it a wonder when he was first invited. You see, I bring him opportunities by our marriage.”

“And great honor,” I said.

Janyn nodded. “Honor and preference. Your family will want for nothing.”

I swept around, looking at the glorious furnishings, the spacious chamber. “Nor shall I! Oh, Janyn, I am happy for all of us.” And I was, especially for myself, Mary, Will, and John.

Janyn sat down on the edge of the bed and took both my hands as I stood before him. “But this connection is not to be discussed in public.” His voice was suddenly quiet and he studied my face until I looked him in the eye. He was now grimly serious.

“I shall obey you in this, of course, Janyn,” I said. “But might I ask why it is to be a secret?”

“You know the dowager queen’s history?”

I nodded.

“There are those who still see her as a traitor, who believe she wanted the throne for herself, not her son.”

“But that was long ago. And her son King Edward is so loved by his people.”

“It was, and he is. But there are those with long memories who hold their anger and resentment close to them, nursing their pain, eager to strike out.”

I did not want to know these things. I wanted to explore what was to be my new home. I wanted to kiss Janyn. But he obviously wished to discuss this now. I was disappointed that this was why he’d brought me to the bedchamber.

“I understand, my love,” I said, working to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “But how came my parents to Castle Rising?”

“By Her Grace’s invitation. She wished to meet the parents of my betrothed.”

If he’d meant to cool my ardor he had succeeded. I remembered Geoffrey’s suggestion that Isabella might feel she owned Janyn in some way. “Why would she care about my parents? What could they possibly be to her?”

“Are you not pleased by this attention from the king’s mother?”

“Of course I am,” I said quickly. “It is beyond anything I ever dreamed.”

“It is an honor, and she is a noble and gracious woman. But I see that you are troubled, Alice. What is it?”

“This summons to Castle Rising, was it to appease Mother? To show her that she will share in some of my good fortune?”

“I had confided in Her Grace my suspicion about why our betrothal was delayed, and it would be her way of helping, to flatter Dame Margery with her attention.”

“That was kind of Her Grace.”

“She is a kind and loving woman. A great lady.”

“She must value your friendship.”

Janyn nodded. “Even the powerful have need of trusted companions.”

He chose his words with great care when he spoke of Isabella of France, pausing longer before responding then than at any other time.

I had expected a simpler life than the one he was painting for me. This was overwhelming. Yet it
was
thrilling to be marrying a man who walked with royals, to imagine entertaining them, dining with them.

“You still look troubled,” he said.

“I pray that my parents can be trusted to be silent.”

“Is that all?” He looked relieved. “Then I can assure you, be at ease, my love. Her Grace will have made it clear to them that they must be discreet if they wish to remain in her favor. You need not worry.”

“But surely in the very need for secrecy you have suggested a certain danger to us all?” I did not intend to play the fool.

He nodded. “I meant that you need not worry about your parents’ discretion. Yes, the secrecy is for our protection.”

“I am glad that you do not seek to protect me from the truth.”

Janyn crossed his hands over his heart. “Never, my love.” Then he gestured toward the curtains, the other furnishings of the room, the great bed on which he sat. “Does it please you?”

“I am delighted by all I have seen, Janyn. Glazing on the windows of our bedchamber? I would never have dared suggest it. And the silk hangings, the immense bed. I never thought to live in such comfort. It is as I’ve imagined palaces in Paris or Venice.”

“It is perhaps more the fashion for wealthy merchants in those great cities. But my mother has always believed that God does not begrudge us comfort and beauty as long as we give Him thanks and make certain that all in our households share it.”

“I shall learn to be at ease with it, then,” I said.

“You need to learn?”

“It does seem sinful.” I fought a smile.

“And yet bishops and popes live in far greater splendor.”

I laughed. “Oh, Janyn, I have no experience of such exalted men of the Church. I spoke but in jest.” I moved away from him as I heard footsteps on the stairway.

Janyn reached for me and pulled me back. His smile was teasing, but in his eyes there was something more. Suddenly I feared him.

“Why do you move away from me when you hear a servant on the stairway?” he asked, his voice soft, coaxing. “We are betrothed. We might do what we will in our bedchamber.” Slipping his arms around me he pulled me so close that my chest was pressed against his.

“But, Janyn—”

He silenced me with a kiss. More than a kiss. His tongue searched
my lips. I had begun to fight him, but thought suddenly what a fool I was being. This is what I wanted and there was no one, not even God Himself, who would condemn me for giving in to Janyn, my betrothed. I melted into his arms and as I opened my lips to his he pressed me to him so tightly that I could feel his excitement.

I boldly touched him there. He moaned, and then released me from his embrace.

“My sweet Alice. I think we will be more than fond of this bed.” His eyes were strange, darker and softer than I’d seen them before. “But let us save our passion for our wedding night.”

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