Lady Thief
Page 24
My mug went hot and red but I didn’t say nothing to him.
He leaned even closer so his lips touched my ear. “Lack of consummation.”
Stepping back a pace, his eyes went over me in a different way, a way that made me hold my breath because breathing made my chest move too much. Though my heart were hammering hard enough that it might have been a fair exchange, the cloth beating with the pulse of what lay beneath.
“You’ll be a good girl tonight, won’t you?” he told me with a sneer.
He moved away. I looked at the window, at the sliver of dark night I could see, and I turned and followed my husband.
I weren’t full aware of how many nobles had come to Nottingham. The Great Hall were filled to bursting, with huge long tables running the length of it. There were one larger table up on the dais, with fewer seats than the rest.
Gisbourne led me to the royal table and a breath fluttered within me. Were my husband so favored that we would have to eat with these people? Gisbourne did the dutiful bit and pulled out the chair till I swept into it, and pushed it forward for me. I reckoned that the tradition were for the damn weight of the things—I were strong as girls came, but I couldn’t have lifted such a chair.
Seated in the wooden trap that kept me at the table, I stared at the spectacle. There were huge plates of animals in garish display, giant turkeys sitting golden and steaming, platters heaped with cuts of meat the like I’d never seen. Antlers of the stag they had killed were draped with jewels and pearls above the meat from his body. There were a whole table of falsely colored sweets.
Flour. Sugar. Eggs. Game. All this belonged to the people of Nottingham, who were starving while these people fatted themselves.
Horns blared out into the hall while the men stood, welcoming the prince and princess to the table. The prince were meant to look handsome—with his fine clothes, and the certain bearing and surety that handsome men had—but he weren’t. He were more than ten years my elder but he looked like a spoiled, milk-faced boy.
“Welcome, lords and ladies, to the humble supper I have been able to give to you. Please enjoy, and let us first drink to the health and safe return of my brother abroad. To King Richard!” he bellowed.
“King Richard!” we all answered. That I was fair fine with drinking to.
A cup touched mine to my right. I looked and nodded to Winchester. “Your Grace,” I greeted.
“My lady,” he said. A servant stepped between us with an offering of venison stew, and Winchester ladled a bowl for me and then himself. “I am grateful to see you much improved from last night.”
“Last night?” I asked.
“Your lord husband informed me that you weren’t well.”
I looked down. Gisbourne hadn’t cared, but it were close to truth. “No, I wasn’t.”
“My lady,” he said quiet, so much so that I had to lean toward him. “I’m more than aware of your husband’s ungallantries. Should you ever wish for my assistance, you shall have it upon a moment.”
My eyes lifted. “Thank you, your Grace.”
“Now, I believe you know another dear friend of mine.”
“I do?”
“The former earl of Huntingdon?” he whispered to me.
My blood ran fast. “You know Rob?”
He smiled, tasting his soup. “So I imagine the stories are true, then. It’s him that truly has your heart.”
Allan had said as much before. “Who the hell is telling these stories?” I asked.
He chuckled. “More than likely, Eleanor of Aquitaine and her minstrels,” he told me, nodding down the table. I could see past Gisbourne and the princess to the prince; he leaned back and gave glimpse of an elegant grayed lady.
“That’s the dowager queen?” I asked.
He nodded. “There is no fairer personage to serve in the royal court,” he whispered to me. “Her youngest son may know little of what honor and grace truly represent, but trust me, she is the font of such qualities.”
Like a cloud, the prince blocked my view of her again.
“And she loves nothing more than a well-told story. She encourages such amongst the royal court. Courtly loves are always her favorites.”
“The love me and Rob have ain’t so courtly,” I told him.
He laughed. “God will judge you, not I,” he said. “But I would love to see him again. We knew each other well when we were boys.”
Perhaps he were true, and he loved Rob, but it were equal as likely that he weren’t, and this were some trick to find Rob—another wolf in the royal court. “I’ll speak of it when I see him, your Grace, but as he’s a bit of an outlaw he ain’t so easy to find,” I told him.
“Thank you,” he said, patting my hand.
“What are you two whispering about?” Gisbourne asked, but his eyes were on our touching hands.
Winchester released me. “The lady was assuring me her bruises didn’t hurt overmuch,” he said. “I had inquired after her welfare.”
“Your gallantry is misplaced,” the prince fair shouted round a mouthful of food. “The lady isn’t some delicate flower in need of chivalry, but rather the firmness of her husband’s hand, Winchester.”
“Surely no woman should lack for chivalry, my son.”
The prince looked to his side and I reckoned it must have been Eleanor that had spoken.
“Hardly a woman at all, is she, though?” he said, and a bit of food spat out. Even the princess made a stuck-up little face at that. “She’s a thief. A criminal. An outlaw—hardly falls into the same category.”
He leaned even closer so his lips touched my ear. “Lack of consummation.”
Stepping back a pace, his eyes went over me in a different way, a way that made me hold my breath because breathing made my chest move too much. Though my heart were hammering hard enough that it might have been a fair exchange, the cloth beating with the pulse of what lay beneath.
“You’ll be a good girl tonight, won’t you?” he told me with a sneer.
He moved away. I looked at the window, at the sliver of dark night I could see, and I turned and followed my husband.
I weren’t full aware of how many nobles had come to Nottingham. The Great Hall were filled to bursting, with huge long tables running the length of it. There were one larger table up on the dais, with fewer seats than the rest.
Gisbourne led me to the royal table and a breath fluttered within me. Were my husband so favored that we would have to eat with these people? Gisbourne did the dutiful bit and pulled out the chair till I swept into it, and pushed it forward for me. I reckoned that the tradition were for the damn weight of the things—I were strong as girls came, but I couldn’t have lifted such a chair.
Seated in the wooden trap that kept me at the table, I stared at the spectacle. There were huge plates of animals in garish display, giant turkeys sitting golden and steaming, platters heaped with cuts of meat the like I’d never seen. Antlers of the stag they had killed were draped with jewels and pearls above the meat from his body. There were a whole table of falsely colored sweets.
Flour. Sugar. Eggs. Game. All this belonged to the people of Nottingham, who were starving while these people fatted themselves.
Horns blared out into the hall while the men stood, welcoming the prince and princess to the table. The prince were meant to look handsome—with his fine clothes, and the certain bearing and surety that handsome men had—but he weren’t. He were more than ten years my elder but he looked like a spoiled, milk-faced boy.
“Welcome, lords and ladies, to the humble supper I have been able to give to you. Please enjoy, and let us first drink to the health and safe return of my brother abroad. To King Richard!” he bellowed.
“King Richard!” we all answered. That I was fair fine with drinking to.
A cup touched mine to my right. I looked and nodded to Winchester. “Your Grace,” I greeted.
“My lady,” he said. A servant stepped between us with an offering of venison stew, and Winchester ladled a bowl for me and then himself. “I am grateful to see you much improved from last night.”
“Last night?” I asked.
“Your lord husband informed me that you weren’t well.”
I looked down. Gisbourne hadn’t cared, but it were close to truth. “No, I wasn’t.”
“My lady,” he said quiet, so much so that I had to lean toward him. “I’m more than aware of your husband’s ungallantries. Should you ever wish for my assistance, you shall have it upon a moment.”
My eyes lifted. “Thank you, your Grace.”
“Now, I believe you know another dear friend of mine.”
“I do?”
“The former earl of Huntingdon?” he whispered to me.
My blood ran fast. “You know Rob?”
He smiled, tasting his soup. “So I imagine the stories are true, then. It’s him that truly has your heart.”
Allan had said as much before. “Who the hell is telling these stories?” I asked.
He chuckled. “More than likely, Eleanor of Aquitaine and her minstrels,” he told me, nodding down the table. I could see past Gisbourne and the princess to the prince; he leaned back and gave glimpse of an elegant grayed lady.
“That’s the dowager queen?” I asked.
He nodded. “There is no fairer personage to serve in the royal court,” he whispered to me. “Her youngest son may know little of what honor and grace truly represent, but trust me, she is the font of such qualities.”
Like a cloud, the prince blocked my view of her again.
“And she loves nothing more than a well-told story. She encourages such amongst the royal court. Courtly loves are always her favorites.”
“The love me and Rob have ain’t so courtly,” I told him.
He laughed. “God will judge you, not I,” he said. “But I would love to see him again. We knew each other well when we were boys.”
Perhaps he were true, and he loved Rob, but it were equal as likely that he weren’t, and this were some trick to find Rob—another wolf in the royal court. “I’ll speak of it when I see him, your Grace, but as he’s a bit of an outlaw he ain’t so easy to find,” I told him.
“Thank you,” he said, patting my hand.
“What are you two whispering about?” Gisbourne asked, but his eyes were on our touching hands.
Winchester released me. “The lady was assuring me her bruises didn’t hurt overmuch,” he said. “I had inquired after her welfare.”
“Your gallantry is misplaced,” the prince fair shouted round a mouthful of food. “The lady isn’t some delicate flower in need of chivalry, but rather the firmness of her husband’s hand, Winchester.”
“Surely no woman should lack for chivalry, my son.”
The prince looked to his side and I reckoned it must have been Eleanor that had spoken.
“Hardly a woman at all, is she, though?” he said, and a bit of food spat out. Even the princess made a stuck-up little face at that. “She’s a thief. A criminal. An outlaw—hardly falls into the same category.”
