Once Upon A Time (Historical Romance) (10 page)

"Sometimes He speaks and we are so immersed in our own needs that we do not hear His voice."

Ruyen's eyes were stabbing as he looked at the queen's man. "Are you then His voice?"

"Not I. But today you married a young woman who is pure of heart and deed, and I believe God speaks through her. If you will allow it, she can help restore your faith."

"I have had all the help from her I want. Who asked her to interfere in my life?"

Sir Humphrey smiled. "Perhaps God did."

There was a loud rapping on the outer door and Netta came from the bedchamber to open it. One of King Henry's knights stood there, his eyes sweeping past the maid to the room beyond. He had hoped to get a glimpse of the beautiful young queen everyone was talking about.

"You want something?" Netta asked coldly.

"I have a message for your queen."

"Then tell it to me."

He looked disappointed, but complied. "His Majesty, King Henry, is holding a banquet in honor of the wedding of Queen Jilliana and Prince Ruyen. Someone will come at seven o'clock to escort them to the Great Hall, where they shall be his honored guests."

"I will tell Her Majesty." So saying, she closed the door in the man's face—Netta had no liking for the English.

Ruyen had watched the whole encounter with a cynical twist to his lips. "The women from Talshamar, whether they be servant or queen, seem to hold men in contempt," he observed.

"Was it contempt that allowed my queen to save your life?" Humphrey asked. "Make no mistake about it—if she had not interfered today, you would be dead. I suggest you remember that and be thankful that she stood up to King Henry on your behalf."

"So you keep reminding me."

"As I perceive it, you do not deserve her."

Ruyen glared at the insolent Talshamarian knight. "I know that Richard is the instrument of my rescue. It is he who deserves my gratitude."

Sir Humphrey threw back his head and laughed. "Richard had nothing to do with your rescue."

"Who then?" Ruyen insisted.

"Mostly you owe your foolish head to my queen. I did not want to see her wed you today, nor did any of her subjects. I have heard nothing good of you, and she deserves a noble husband who will cherish her. I think that man is not you."

For some reason this man made Ruyen feel ashamed. He had not acted nobly and had only shown resentfulness toward Queen Jilliana. He looked into the clear eyes of her knight and found himself wishing he had this man's respect, although he could not have said why.

"Have no fear for your queen on my account."

"I made no empty threat when I told you that if you did harm her, you would not see another sunset."

Ruyen lowered his head. "You might be doing me a favor."

9

Ruyen was sitting beside his sister's bed, watching her slow but steady intake of breath. There was only a single candle flickering on a narrow table, its light falling on her face. She appeared to be resting easier and her color was not so pale. He swore that if he ever got her away from this cursed land neither one of them would set foot on English soil again.

There was a knock on the door and he bid whoever it was to enter. Netta stuck her head around the corner.

"The king's man has arrived to escort you to the banquet, Your Highness."

Ruyen would have preferred to remain with his sister, but he was in no position to refuse. "When in the den of the lion, walk the lion's path, hmm, Netta?"

She smiled. "I believe that is what my queen is doing."

"Is your lady ready?"

"She awaits you."

Ruyen gently touched Cassandra's cheek. "You will remain with my sister?"

"I shall not leave her bedside, Your Highness."

Ruyen was weary and this had seemed the longest day of his life. He did not relish spending the evening being entertained by Henry—but what choice had he?

He moved out of the chamber to find Jilliana with her back to him, gazing out the window. She was dressed all in crimson velvet, but for the golden headdress and golden crown set atop her head. She must have heard him, for she turned in his direction.

Ruyen was stunned by her beauty. Never had he seen such a perfect face, not even his Katharine could compare with her. He wondered how she could dress in scarlet and still appear so young and innocent.

"Shall we go?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Jilliana stared at him for a long moment. With his broad chest and wide shoulders, she found him extremely handsome. She had already seen his prominent dark eyes become piercing or flash like fire when he was angered. He was such a powerful presence that even as a prisoner he seemed in command of the situation. His gaze drew and held hers, and she wondered what he was thinking.

After a moment, she placed the tips of her fingers on his sleeve. "I like not the thought of dining at Henry Plantagenet's table. But, if we are to gain our freedom, we will have to allow him to play the bountiful host. By now he has probably convinced himself and others that the entire situation was his own idea."

Ruyen glanced down into clear blue eyes. "Do you know him so well?"

"I know him but little, but I know much of him. We shall attend his banquet so he can show his subjects how generous he is to his enemies."

"You will forgive me if I do not so readily accept that he is your enemy. I am still not convinced that you are not in league with that devil."

She lowered her silken lashes. "Your opinion of me matters but little. I have helped you and I will soon ask help of you. Beyond that, we are nothing to each other."

"What can I give you that you do not already have?"

"I will tell you when the time is right. We must not keep our host waiting."

The banquet hall was crowded with nobles and their ladies. Long trestle tables were covered with white linen cloths, and magnificent tapestries hung on the wall. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, all speculating on the young queen and her husband, the Golden Falcon.

When Jilliana and Ruyen entered the room a hush fell over the hall. A servant bowed before them and led them to the high table, where the king waited.

"Welcome, welcome, my little lovebirds," Henry said, boisterously. "At last you are tied to one another. Come Queen Jilliana, sit to my right—you, Prince Ruyen, on my left. Eat, laugh, be joyful. This is your wedding feast."

The moment they were seated, meats and other delicacies were brought to the table. There was a continual progression of turnovers filled with chicken, cheese, and eggs. Courses of fowl, duck, geese, peacock, basted roasts of pork, mullet, sole, and lobster were offered to first the king's table and then the lower tables. Later, there followed plump figs, candied fruits, and tarts smothered with almonds and powdered cinnamon.

Ruyen insolently studied the people in the room, his eyes showing his dislike for them. Jilliana took a bite of succulent fowl, but found that she could not swallow. If only Eleanor were here to help her get through this evening. All she could think about was that Henry was responsible for her mother's death.

"Tell me, Jilliana—you do not mind if I call you Jilliana, do you—how do you like London?"

She raised her eyes to his. "Tell me, Henry—you do not mind if I call you Henry do you—how do you like Talshamar?"

For a moment, his mouth came together in a severe line. "I have not had the pleasure of visiting your country. It seemed that after your mother ... died, His Holiness became the administrator, and I was ordered to stay away. I hope you will change that order, Jilliana, and we can be friends."

She lowered her eyes so he would not see the hatred reflected there. "I do not think that Talshamar would be good for your health, Henry. Imagine how devastated I would be if you visited my country and something untoward befell you."

Ruyen almost choked on his wine. She had the kind of courage he admired, he admitted to himself grudgingly.

Henry moved toward Jilliana menacingly, and Ruyen automatically reached for the sword that usually hung at his side.

Unperturbed, Jilliana smiled and raised her gaze to Henry. "The food is delicious," she said, taking a dainty bite from a fig, thus reminding Henry that their actions were being watched by the whole court.

"I am glad you show no fear of me—I would never harm you," Henry said.

"Nay, of that I am certain. It would not fit your plan for me to meet with an ... untimely death."

He had a satisfied look on his face. "We shall keep you here so you will be safe until you give forth a son or daughter."

Now her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "I can assure you that if you keep me prisoner, I shall never have a child."

"But did you not tell me that you were already with child?"

She shrugged. "I spoke untrue."

Ruyen wondered if she knew what she was doing.

Henry nodded, not in the least perturbed. "I know. I knew it at the time, but it suited me to agree to this marriage. You will remain with us for a time, and we shall make you happy and see that you want for nothing. And of course, you shall have your husband to keep you company."

Jilliana came to her feet. "I will not remain in England, and you cannot force me to. I would remind you that I am under the protection of the Holy Father. How many times have you been excommunicated, Henry?"

He slammed his fist against the table, spilling a wine glass and jumping to his feet. "Your lips are moving, but I hear Eleanor's words."

"Then hear this, Henry Plantagenet, you cannot prevent me from returning to Talshamar."

They were standing, glaring at each other, while Ruyen remained seated. He saw no reason to interfere. Jilliana was handling Henry very well on her own and did not need his help. As for himself, he was starting to enjoy the banquet.

"Be reasonable, Jilliana," Henry said in exasperation. "You know the stipulations of your mother's bequest. I cannot allow you to return to Talshamar without an heir."

"And I will produce no heir while on English soil."

Suddenly Henry shook with laughter, surprising everyone—he loved a good fight. "Damn me if you are not magnificent! Half the world trembles when I speak, and you, a mere slip of a woman, dare dictate to me in my own realm."

"I will have my freedom," she insisted.

"So you shall. But it will not be in Talshamar. I will allow you to go to the Isle of Falcon Bruine with your husband. There you will remain until you give birth."

Jilliana's eyes flew to Ruyen. "But, I had not thought that...”

Ruyen came quickly to his feet and took her arm, pulling her against him. "That will be satisfactory," he said, seeing his one chance of escape from England. "I will take my wife, and we shall leave for Falcon Bruine."

Henry now turned his eyes to the prince. "In due time you shall, but I have taken precautions that will ensure you will cause us no more trouble. I have made your mother regent. Queen Melesant will make certain that you remain ... shall we say, loyal to her English friends."

This was not what Jilliana had wanted. She could feel Ruyen stiffen beside her, and knew that he was angry also.

Ruyen felt rage boil up within him. His mother had always wanted to rule Falcon Bruine, and now Henry had placed it within her grasp. What he had feared was true— she had betrayed him to Henry Plantagenet! He would confront his mother when he reached home. Now, he just wanted to be free of England.

"I want to leave immediately—tomorrow," Ruyen said grimly.

"Not so soon as that," Henry said, playing to the audience that was watching and eagerly hanging on each word. "I am certain that your sister will not be able to travel for a while." He called to those at the lower table. "Ladies of the court, it is time for you to escort Queen Jilliana to her marriage bed. Her husband will remain with us until you have made her ready, then we shall join you."

There was ribald laughter as several ladies rushed forward, taking Jilliana's hand and pulling her toward the door. She wanted to protest, and she looked to Ruyen for help, but he only stared after her with a bewildered look on his face.

Jilliana had expected to be taken back to the chambers she had occupied earlier in the day, but she was led in a different direction. The women giggled and made lewd remarks about her wedding night. She was too stunned to react and too proud to object.

"Your Majesty," one of the women said enviously. "I have heard much about the prowess of the Golden Falcon. Would that I were the one to clip those wings."

"He's magnificent!" another said. "Those dark eyes pierce right through you. When he looked at me, I thought I would faint."

"Do not bother Her Majesty with your foolish chatter," an older woman scolded. "I am Lady Wentworth," she told Jilliana. "Pay no heed to these foolish magpies."

Jilliana did not answer, for they had reached their destination. The bedchamber was grandly furnished in white and golds—the royal colors of Talshamar. Jilliana wondered if it had been decorated for her benefit. It was just the sort of thing Henry would do to lull her into trusting him.

Jilliana saw that her trunk had been placed against a wall and her own nightclothes had been spread on the bed. Before she could protest, she was undressed and her nightgown pulled over her head. Her hair was unbound and fell like a black curtain to her waist. Someone brushed it, while another hurriedly pulled the covers aside.

A feeling of anxiety was growing in the pit of Jilliana's stomach, for she knew what was to come. She had heard of the bedding ceremony. She was thankful that her white nightgown fit high on her neck and the ruffles fell to her wrists.

Lady Wentworth urged her to climbed into bed while the others smiled at her. "You are a beautiful bride. I have heard it said that all the queens of Talshamar are beautiful. Seeing you, I believe that."

Jilliana could not even respond to Lady Wentworth's kindness. Her throat seemed to have closed off and she could only lean against the pillows, clutching the covers to her chin.

"I know what you are feeling, Your Majesty, but there is nothing to worry about."

"I will gladly take her place—"

"Kitty!" Lady Wentworth scolded.

At that moment, the door was thrust open and several gentlemen entered with King Henry at the lead. His eyes were wide with admiration as they rested on Jilliana. He laughed jovially as he clapped Ruyen on the back.

"Ah, that I was younger and could have such a beauty waiting in bed for me." Henry turned to the others. "Let us leave the newlyweds, they do not need our instructions."

Everyone followed Henry out the door, and Jilliana could hear the laughter fading as they moved down the corridor.

She raised her eyes to Ruyen, who was studying her with intensity. So, her hair was black; he would never have guessed with her light coloring. He had seen many beautiful women, but none that could match her. She was so delicate, so lovely, that he felt a tightening in his loins.

He sat in a chair and leaned back, studying the pink tinge to her cheeks. "What do we do now?" he asked.

"I . . . told you that I would ask something of you when the time came."

"So you did. But perhaps you should tell me what it is, so there will be no mistake."

"I want—I need—an heir." He did not move, or bat a lash, so she thought he might not have heard her. She repeated her words, this time in a louder voice. "I need an heir."

Mesmerized, she watched his long sinewy fingers run down the arm of the chair.

"Before we discuss that, perhaps it is time that you explained some things to me. Who sent you here and why?"

She grabbed her long hair and flung it over her shoulder. "I do not know you, and thus far you have done nothing to inspire my trust. Why should I tell you anything?"

"How do I know that I can trust you?" Ruyen asked. "What if everything you have done thus far has been for show and you are Henry's ally."