A Dishonorable Knight(6)
A Welshman, Elena thought, closing her eyes with a grimace. Why did every lowborn man in Christendom think she was eager to make his acquaintance? No doubt he had heard of her questionable virtue and sought to make the most of it. Opening her eyes, she saw the man staring at her expectantly.
"And you are..?" he urged.
"And I am on my way to becoming the lady of a wealthy estate, so please think not to woo me to bed with tales of your battlefield glories or proud stories of your herd of sheep back home."
The knight flushed to the roots of his hair, his brows drawing together sharply. He seemed at a complete loss for a response. The King’s herald calling everyone to attention saved Elena from having to speak further with him.
She turned expectantly, all thoughts of the Welshman at her side disappearing. The herald made several announcements concerning the next day's hunting activities before Richard himself stood and addressed the room.
"Tis been a long while since we have had the celebration of a wedding, has it not?" Cheers and bawdy comments answered the king. "Well 'twill be a long while still till we have another!" The king laughed at the response he received. "’Twill be a long while because this wedding must be done properly as the groom is a friend of Ours, and the lady a gentle maid. You must wait until Michaelmas to revel at the nuptial of this good couple." Elena smoothed her gown and smothered a knowing smile as Richard turned and gestured for her to join him. So pleased was she as she approached the king's dais that she didn't even hear Gareth's muttered curse as he walked away.
"The Lady Elena de Vignon has been a beautiful and graceful addition to Our retinue, would you not agree?" More cheers greeted this comment. "For that reason, I kept her with Us even after Our beloved Queen's death.
"Though We are loathe to part with her, My dear niece, Princess Elizabeth has convinced Us that to deny one of Our loyal subjects the joy of having such a woman to wed is unjust."
Elena surreptitiously looked around for Lord Edgeford.
"We have thought much on the subject of Lady Elena's husband and it is with great pleasure that We call forth the lucky man, Edmund, Earl of Brackley."
Elena looked around in confusion. Who? Then she remembered. As the earl stood and walked around the table to take her hand, Elena felt dizzy as the blood rushing from her head dimmed the noisy sounds of the great hall. This must be a terrible mistake, she thought. I'm supposed to marry Edgeford, not this old—the clammy hand of her fiancee as it grasped hers stopped her frantic train of thought. Across the room, she spotted Edgeford who raised his goblet to her in a silent toast. In a daze, she heard the king finish saluting their happiness and before she could stop him, the earl was pressing a hard, bruising kiss to her lips. She smelled the ale and sour wine on his breath and felt the stiff bristles of his beard as they scraped her skin. She jerked her head back, but the earl had already turned away to down the goblet of wine Richard had handed him. She stiffly accepted the embraces of the Elizabeth and the other ladies-in-waiting.
"Be of good cheer," Margaret said, not unkindly, upon seeing Elena's face. "He is, after all an earl. Would you not rather be a countess than a mere Lady?" At that, the confused look on Elena's face slowly disappeared to be replaced by the haughty expression Margaret was used to.
"I know not what you are talking about," Elena said in a voice that sounded tight and brittle to her own ears.
"Be not coy, Elena. We all know that you have been planning to marry Lord Edgeford.”
Elena ground her teeth. How dare these women speculate on her plans? "Perhaps you had best return to your tea leaves, Margaret. I care not a bit for Edgeford. We are merely acquaintances."
"Elena, few women are ever pleased by political marriages. They are almost always to doddering old men we know nothing about. Can you not admit you are frightened?" Margaret asked. "Think of Princess Elizabeth. Rumor says His Majesty is considering wedding her and he is her uncle! Think what worries she must be faced with being the most important political pawn in the country."
"She would be queen, how worrisome can that be? You are just trying to frighten me. ‘Tis just what you would like to see, is it not? Me sobbing into my cups over some man. Well, I shall not give you the satisfaction," Elena said sharply.
With a shake of her head, Margaret turned away and curtsied as Princess Elizabeth approached.
Elena cast a speculative glance at the king’s niece. If the rumor Margaret mentioned was true, the princess might be sympathetic to Elena’s wanting to avoid a distasteful marriage and could be persuaded to argue her case before the king. Smiling her warmest smile, Elena offered Elizabeth her seat and a glass of wine.