The Devil Claims a Wife (21 page)

The question flared without warning in her mind, as if to accuse her for her irrational condemnation of her husband. If indeed Guy was capable of such a monstrous act and some dark demon truly lurked behind that gallant facade, then wouldn’t he be tormented by the wickedness lurking deep within him? Wouldn’t she have glimpsed some evidence of those malevolent characteristics in him in some brief, carelessly unguarded moment?

Aware of her preoccupation, Guy looked at her. ‘Knowing this, does it change anything between us, Jane?’

She thought about his question. A wavering sigh escaped her lips. ‘It doesn’t change what you did. And, as you said, there is no evidence to say Richard did murder Lucy. But I do have difficulty rationalising a man of your integrity
being capable of such a despicable act as to murder a man in cold blood.’

‘Does this mean that you’re suffering some doubts about my guilt?’

His blunt question brought tears to her eyes. Diffidently she met his searching gaze. ‘I haven’t been able to come to any definite conclusions about what happened that day, if that’s what you mean. At times, it seems utterly foolish to even suspect that you could have done such a thing, but then I have a recurring nightmare in which your appearance changes and the demon you’ve become makes me afraid.’

Guy certainly had been disturbed as he had lain beside her last night and listened to her tormented whimpering. ‘But you’re still not certain,’ he said in a matter-of-fact way. ‘And then there’s my reputation, which doesn’t make it any easier for you. Don’t believe everything you hear, Jane, or, for that matter, only bits of what you see.’ Rather than stir up past hurts, after a few moments of silence, he said, ‘Are you looking forward to the entertainment later?’

‘Yes, although I’m also apprehensive.’

‘I should tell you that the king and queen are expected to attend. The visit will be short. It is expected that they will leave after the meal.’

‘So I understand,’ Jane replied. ‘Lady Cecilia
told me when I was leaving the house earlier.’ The imminent arrival of the royal guests had put her in a state of excitement. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing them.’

‘And they are looking forward to meeting you, Jane.’

‘Then I must make sure I look my elegant best. I am grateful to you for taking the shortest route back, which will give me more time.’

‘Nonsense. As always you will look ravishing.’

They were almost at Rosemead and she looked straight ahead, as if fascinated by the large gathering of courtiers in the courtyard. She wished she could look him in the eyes, but knew she would be unable to control her heated emotions.

Midday saw barges transporting and shedding guests and the courtyard was filled with litters and neighing horses, resounding shouts and garrulous voices. It seemed that the whole city of London had come to Rosemead that day. There were people everywhere, courtiers more beautiful than Jane could have imagined. She was terrified and equally suffused with a frivolous joy. She squirmed in delight, longing to be an accepted part of it.

Bathed and dressed in a gown of forest-green with russet trim, exhausted after the hunt—which was most unusual, for she always managed to keep up with the best of them—she would have liked to rest, but the royal barge had been sighted on the river and the arrival of the king and queen was imminent. Jane saw herself in the mirror like a strange idol made entirely of precious fabrics. She was shocked to her soul by the wanton richness of her gown, which was just one of many she had acquired since her elevation to the noble ranks. Guy came and stood beside her.

‘You are very beautiful, Jane. You are sure to draw attention to yourself. After everything that has happened, it is my dearest wish that you are able to put it behind you and look to the future.’

Smoothing her skirts with her hands, she glanced at him. ‘Do not worry about me. The life I thought of as bleak has surely taken a turn for the better.’

As she stepped from the darkness of the corridor into the glittering hall with her husband, his tall figure clad in scarlet-and-black velvet studded with precious gems, she roused an answering flash of envy in the eyes of every woman present, and of their male escorts too.
And yet there was something remote and detached in the attitude of this dazzling creature newly descended in their midst. She looked like a beautiful, gilded statue and no man watching her as she moved forwards slowly to the soft rustle of her forest-green skirts could have said whether his admiration was given most to the perfection of her eyes, or the tender, irresistible curve of her smiling lips.

Jane’s attention was drawn to the sumptuously attired ladies and gentlemen in courtly dress, flashing with costly jewels. She trembled with apprehension. Her sudden painful awareness of the gulf between her status and that of this elite gathering added a terrible weight to her body. She was both nervous and excited about meeting the royal couple, her anticipation not without apprehension. There was an air of excitement in the Great Hall, with vassals going about their business with a spring of expectancy in their step, and lords and ladies preening themselves. Lady Cecilia had gone to a great deal of trouble and expense.

Protected by the royal guard, King Edward and Queen Elizabeth arrived with an entourage of servants and lords and ladies of the court. The Earl of Sinnington and Lady Cecilia welcomed them to Rosemead.

‘Oh, look at them,’ a lady next to Jane whispered in awe as the glittering royal couple paused for a leisurely perusal of the assembled company before advancing into the hall.

Everyone in the hall appeared riveted by the couple and, indeed, they were a breathtaking sight to behold. With lithe, liquid movements the queen walked beside the handsome young king. Jane was fascinated by the way she glided as if her feet merely skimmed the floor. Elegant of manner and with a beauty that shone when she smiled, the queen was resplendent in a pale-blue gown trimmed with gold and decorated with pearls. Everyone stepped aside to allow them to pass.

Jane looked close at this tall and slender woman with the red-gold hair. She had been a widow with two sons when she had married the king in secret in the spring. Her husband, Sir John Grey, who had been killed at the second battle of St Albans, had fought against the king. With high hopes of King Edward marrying one of the great princesses in Europe, the marriage had caused a fury at the time.

Moving to stand beside Jane, Guy’s appreciative gaze travelled downwards over her green-clad body with a confident, possessive smile. ‘You look, as always, stunning, my love.’

She gave him a warning look in response to his impudent endearment. But she was given no time to reproach him for at that moment the king appeared in front of them.

‘Ah, Sinnington! How was the hunt? Productive, I hope.’

‘It went well, your Grace,’ Guy replied, at ease with the monarch. ‘You missed a treat. Two fine stags and a boar.’

‘I would have ridden with you but for affairs of state.’ He directed his gaze at Jane standing several paces behind. ‘And who is this, pray?’

Guy took Jane’s hand and drew her forward. ‘This fair lady is my wife Jane, the Countess of Sinnington.’

‘I thought as much.’

‘How?’

‘A lucky guess,’ the king countered smoothly.

King Edward was well loved by his people. Blond haired and over six feet tall, his amused eyes were fixed on Jane’s face, as if he knew a secret and couldn’t wait to divulge it. ‘Sinnington has spoken of you often, Lady St Edmond. I am happy to meet you at last. You are as lovely as he professed.’

On trembling legs Jane sank into a graceful curtsy. She could feel her cheeks burning, but she could not look away from him. ‘You are
very kind, your Grace, but I fear my husband has a tendency to exaggerate.’

The king chuckled low. ‘Your wife is clearly a woman of delicate sensibilities, Sinnington.’

‘Do not be fooled, sire. She has the heart of a warrior when crossed.’

‘Then she is a woman after my own heart,’ the queen murmured, peering at Jane closely. ‘I am happy to meet you at last, Lady St Edmond. I have heard a good deal about you and I am interested to hear more. Come and sit with me when the meal is over. We will speak then.’

‘Yes, your Grace,’ Jane managed to say as she bowed, though she was dumbstruck and more than a little bewildered. What could she, Jane Lovet, possibly have to talk about to a queen?

When it was time to be seated for the banquet, with places for at least a hundred people, Lady Cecilia was helped to her seat at the garland-bedecked high table, Jane was seated beside Guy on her left, the king and queen in the centre of the table on her right. Jane could feel her husband’s presence with every fibre of her being and increasing comforting warmth suffused her. He was powerfully masculine, more attractive than any man present. His
commanding presence was awesome, drawing the eye of everyone present. He was dashing, charming, handsome, a man any woman could easily be enamoured with.

Guests were served goblets of wine or tankards of ale, depending on their individual choices. A quartet of musicians played as an incalculable number of dishes was served: various meats, candied fruits, sweetmeats and oysters, and wines of all types from the darkest red to the clearest gold. The feast was extravagant, beyond anything Jane had yet seen. From then on she listened to the conversation going on around her with only one ear. The banquet swept past in a relaxed and congenial atmosphere.

Guy’s warrior instincts were stirred by the depths of his passion for his young wife. His desire to possess her and recapture what they’d had after their marriage was now stronger than ever. The battle to win back this woman might well turn out to be the fiercest of his life, but win her he would, no matter the cost.

Afterwards when Jane was summoned to speak to the queen, she found her courteous and pleasant. They spoke of the court and her children, the fashions and Jane’s background—
the kind of things women talk about when they are relaxing together—but all the while she was acutely aware that Guy wasn’t far away. As soon as she had taken her place beside the queen, his stare had homed in on her and his blue eyes seemed to gleam.

‘Sinnington has spoken of you, and although your association with Lady Cecilia is of short duration, she speaks highly of you,’ Elizabeth said, raising the issue for this interview at last. ‘She agrees with Sinnington that I would benefit by having you in my household.’

Jane stared at her, somewhat bemused. ‘Your household, your Grace?’

‘As a lady of the chamber. I have several ladies who assist me in dressing and all manner of things. I am sure you would settle in very well.’

‘But—your Grace, I am a merchant’s daughter,’ Jane stammered, the suggestion that she live at Court an unappealing prospect. ‘Apart from visiting London with my father on occasion, I have never left Cherriot. I—I am deeply honoured by your offer—indeed, I could never have imagined such an honour—but I am completely ignorant of courtly ways and lack the experience you require.’

‘I see nothing wrong with nobles and merchants
mixing together. It is, after all, important that we have a deeper understanding of each other.’ She rose and held out her hand, smiling softly. ‘I shall be delighted to welcome you at Westminster, Lady St Edmond. I am certain we shall both benefit from this arrangement.’

Jane dropped a curtsy and backed away, though through her anguish and fear another, stronger emotion was making it difficult for her to breathe—anger about all the planning, the secret arrangements made by Guy behind her back.

‘Well?’ Lady Cecilia asked, almost bursting with anticipation. ‘What did you talk about?’

‘The queen has summoned me to the royal court—to be a servant to her Grace. I really don’t know what to say—and my parents! They will be astonished.’

‘You must write to them. This is a great honour, Jane, and your parents will see it that way. Just think about it. You will live at the Palace of Westminster. You will be close to the king and queen. It is a wonderful thing.’

‘But why was I not warned so that I might be prepared for this? Guy should have discussed it with me at the very least.’

As the festivities progressed and she smiled and pretended to enjoy the festivities, with a
feeling that she was being manipulated by her husband, anger and resentment simmered in her breast. She watched him seated at the high table. He was among a group of men, talking, drinking and laughing with the king. When a servant approached with a warm bowl to wash their hands, Guy’s easy assumption of his domineering role in her life did more than put her in a high temper. She was tempted to march up to him and pour the bowl of water over his arrogant head.

There were jugglers, acrobats and dancing dwarfs to entertain them and jolly music. Guy sat back in his seat, idly conversing with his fellow knights. His smile and words were all for them, but the hot glint in his eyes searched for and found Jane. They dwelt on her as she bent her head to listen to what Lady Cecilia was saying. He became distracted by the curve of her mouth, the soft swell of her pouting bottom lip and the curve of the upper one. He wanted to press his mouth to hers, to follow its shape with the tip of his tongue—as he had the last time he’d kissed her.

Heat burned in his blood. His groin hardened. He couldn’t have stood up, despite the covering of his tunic, or everyone would have noticed his predicament. He clenched his jaw.
This was madness! Why did he torment himself like this? He drank deep of his goblet, trying to cast the sensations away. His moody glance about the hall at the merrymaking courtiers told him there were plenty of other beautiful women he could have. What was it about Jane—a woman who was less than confident of his integrity—that made him blind to all others?

He gulped more wine. As he lowered the goblet he realised Jane was looking at him. Though she was seated on another table, he could see those beautiful green eyes were anything but friendly. Having seen the queen speaking to her, he had a good idea why—that she was not as enamoured of moving to Westminster Palace and her new position as waiting woman to the queen as he thought she would be. Her eyes continued to burn into him. He raised his goblet to her and wondered how long it would take to turn her angry mood into panting desire.