Destiny Lies Waiting (17 page)

The childhood playmates embraced tightly and Valentine held out his arm to take Richard into the warm circle. The trio stood together, arms wound round one another, laughing heartily.

When at last they broke their embrace, Valentine stood back and held Anne's hands.

He thought adulthood had been thrust upon her much too soon. The creases around the expressive eyes shared Richard's same look of wisdom peeking through that simplistic innocence.

Although they were only distant relations, Anne shared Richard's swarthy coloring. Dark hair peeked out from under the head-dress, heavy brows arched severely, giving her expression sharp definition, the straight nose and jawline were rigid with determination.

They were both equally slight of stature, their complexions glowing from an abundance of time outdoors.

"You have my greatest sympathy on the death of your husband Edward."

"'Twas not a true marriage, Valentine. We never lived as man and wife, not even for a day," she replied.

"Nay, indeed they did not," Richard echoed emphatically, his sharp tone piercing the serenity of his receiving chamber.

"In any event, I called you here to solicit your services, Val, and I trust you will honor my request."

He knew what was coming.

Richard and Anne sat side by side in ornately carved oaken chairs and for a fleeting moment a picture flashed before Valentine's eyes—Richard and Anne upon thrones as king and queen.

How regal and majestic they looked, their heads erect with that royal air of subtle superiority, yet how gently their eyes caressed each other when the tips of their fingers touched.

"I would like you to stand up for me at our wedding."

"I should be happy to," he replied without hesitation. "When is the date?"

"On the morrow after vespers. And God willing before Elizabitch has a chance to muck it up again."

"I offer you both my most heartfelt wishes."

They nodded in unison.

"Thank you, friend."

Richard and Anne rose and she tucked her hand into his sleeve.

As Valentine bowed he saw a sparkle in Richard's eyes he'd never seen before, lighting up in tranquil recognition when he gazed upon his future wife.

Valentine was immensely happy for his dearest friend, but envious at the same time. What he wouldn't give to share that same magic with Denys.

He had some work to do in order to get her to open her heart to him. Let alone to win anything more.

Richard murmured to Anne for a moment, and she left the room silently. Then he stood by the window. He placed a foot on the seat and rested an elbow on his knee.

Valentine joined him, looking out over the Thames, its bustling traffic slowing to a halt in the haze of eventide.

"So Anne is finally free to marry. And this dissolves your betrothal to Dove," Valentine said.

"Aye, Dove is quite relieved, although she's a bit saddened that I'll be taking up residence in Yorkshire. She was expecting that we'd continue to reside at court."

"The Queen knows naught of these plans, I take it."

He shook his head. "Nay. And Edward agreed to keep it quiet until after we've exchanged our vows," he hastened to add, in a near-whisper. "But as you know, friendship knows no earthly bounds. So this means you needn't hasten to capture Dove's heart. You may take your time."

Valentine's smile widened. "I'd rather not. I thank God I lost that duel and agreed to your plan, so I could meet her and find the one lady I had been seeking. But though I may have found her, winning her heart is another matter. I know I shall do it. It may just take a bit longer than I thought," he added airily.

"Well, if anyone can make a woman go from slapping your face to kissing it, you can."

He laughed. "No doubt, no doubt!"

Richard invited his friend to sit. "Val, I am telling you about my wedding in the utmost confidence. George mustn't know we're marrying so quickly either."

"Why? What could George possibly do to sabotage your marriage to Anne?"

Richard snorted. "The Grey Mare still won't give up on her quest to hitch me and Dove. After the council meeting, Edward told me Elizabeth had the gall to make George go to him and deny us permission to marry."

"Well, hell's teeth, what did Edward say to that?"

"Exercising some elder brotherly authority, Edward told him to pizzle off."

"Getting George to do her dirty work now? Why, she'll stop at nothing, will she?" Valentine commented in a wondering tone.

"Well, this time, George has a stake in it. You know he's married to Anne's older sister. As the eldest, Isabel stands to inherit all her mother's estates. Elizabeth convinced George that Anne must stay an old maid in order for him to keep Isabel's inheritance. Over his customary bottle of malmsey last eve, George informed me that he intends to keep all of Isabel's inheritance for his greedy own self. Now I really must marry Anne immediately. I must protect Anne's half of her inheritance, to keep it out of George's clutches."

"Well, if you and Anne can overcome all of these obstacles, you truly are meant to be together!" Valentine said with a tilt of his head and a sparkle in his eye.

"Aye, I believe we are. And I wish to sire heirs someday, just like any man," he said after a pause, still looking out over the river.

"But you truly love her, do you not?" Valentine probed, looking intently at his friend.

He turned to Valentine, a smile more brilliant than the sun glinting on his armor during the last two battles they'd fought together. "I always have. Now I am finally going to marry her. Isn't that a rare occurrence!"

"Rare indeed, to finally get your heart's desire."

"Aye. I only pray you may have the same good fortune, and soon."

"Amen to that," Valentine said heartily, staring out the window once more at the river, recalling how Denys had felt in his arms when she had fallen into the water. The good fortune of making her his at last couldn't come soon enough….

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Denys entered Richard's apartments later that evening after his confidential interview with Valentine, and knocked at the open door to his wardrobe chamber.

"Richard, I must speak with you."

He did not turn around.

Denys' reflection pleaded with him in his looking glass.

"How would this silk tabard look with this velvet surcoat?" Richard held the garments up as he turned from the mirror to face her. "Or wouldst brown be too subdued? Might I don something in red, mayhap? Nay, that's too Christmassy, is it not?"

"What I have to say is important. I shall help you color coordinate wedding raiment later."

"Dove, I'm preparing for one of the most important days of a man's life save for perhaps his coronation. I want it all to go swimmingly."

"Then stop spending so much time preening like an over-plumed peacock and make sure your intended is at the altar this time."

"Very well, then." He draped the clothes over a chair. "What is so urgent?"

"I just wanted to congratulate you," she said evenly.

"The battle was a minor one. You needn't throw roses at my feet."

"Nay, 'tis naught to do with the battle. In fact, I'd have been surprised had you not emerged triumphant. 'Tis about another of your achievements."

"What then?"

"Winning the duel."

"What duel?"

"The one between you and Valentine Starbury."

"Oh, that." He dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand.

"Well, your affected scheme failed, Richard. Valentine told me about the duel, and that he won me by default!"

Richard didn't move a muscle, didn't flinch or break out in tiny beads of sweat on his lip. He was the picture of composure.

"'Twasn't like that, Dove, not at all. I was hoping you would take a fancy to each other, since you have so much in common, and we needed to get Bess off our tails. The duel was just an aside, a friendly scrap. It meant nothing."

"Well, your plan backfired. There is naught I fancy about Valentine Starbury." She folded her arms and twirled round with her back to him, blushing hotly.

"Not even his devilish handsomeness or his romantic charm?" His playful tone floated to stinging ears.

"He has all the charm of a cow's udder," she retorted over her shoulder.

"He adores you, Dove. Are you blind not to see that?"

"He would adore anything in skirts."

"Now, that is not true. He does not find Cousin Gonilda in the least bit attractive."

"Half the population of the Newgate Dungeons wouldn't find Cousin Gonilda in the least bit attractive."

Richard smirked. "Just be his companion, Dove. In my absence. For me, if for no other reason. Then we can share some happy times when we all reunite in the future."

"Oh, that will be a festive soiree indeed. Me with the court roué, and you with Anne Neville, all carousing the night away."

"Would you have rather the alternative? For us to marry each other?"

"Of course not. But that's no reason to foist Valentine Starbury on me."

"Foist, my dear?" Richard gave a half-smile. "I don't exactly see you struggling to unfoist him. I hardly forced him upon you. I merely brought him to court, presented him to you, and let Mother Nature take over."

"Oh, Richard, honestly!" She wished she could stop blushing. "I shall miss you. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a brother—or sister!"

"I shall still be like a brother, though I am meant to be an uncle." He cocked a brow. "However, since Edward made me Constable of England, I shall have much business to attend to in the north. But I shall be returning to court, and of course there is always pen and parchment. 'Twould be grand if you can keep me informed of the goings on at court, the Woodvilles' knavery, general tidings. How would you like to be my chief correspondent?"

She smiled weakly. "I would enjoy that, should I find something to write about. It will be so dull without you here. But then, I am not sure if I will even be here, if I head west to find my family."

"To find your family, or escape from Valentine? And you have not made many inroads into that search, for all it seemed so pressing not that long ago, when the Queen first proposed our match."

She blushed. "There has been so much to do, to think of with hostilities breaking out again and—"

"You needn't defend yourself to me. I know you have been concerned for all three of us, Valentine included, and it does your tender heart credit.

Straightening his cape, he gave her a final pat on the shoulder. "Valentine is to be created Duke of Norwich in a fortnight, you know. He has become one of Edward's most trusted councilors. Somehow I don't think it's going to be dull around the palace with him about all the time."

She tried to hide the unbidden smile that lifted her lips as her eyes darted about madly, landing on a cornice up above. "But he's so—so forward."

"Would you prefer backward?"

She giggled at that.

"You're just not used to someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. You've lived your life surrounded by Plantagenet prudery and Woodville knavery."

"You're not all that bad, in terms of the prudery, I mean. After all, Edward—"

Now it was Richard's turn to blush. "Aye, but the less said about that the better. What I mean is, Valentine is genuine—and that is rare indeed at any court. He is a man of simple sincerity. As I have said, there is no one whom I trust more. Not even my own brothers," he admitted in an undertone, "sad though that is to say."

He straightened the brown surcoat he had settled upon. "Now I really must go. We've a council meeting. I shall see you tonight in the great hall. Practice some archery. I notice your form has been a bit off as of late."

"I will improve, I promise. I'll just imagine Elizabeth in the bull's-eye."