Heartened by her arguments, Linnet hurried out the
door and down the corridor. Halfway down the staircase that led to the Great Hall, she came to an abrupt halt. The words
Jamie had said when he first arrived at Eltham rang in her ears:
I have come home to marry.
Jamie deserved to have hearth and home with a loving wife and children. No man would make a better father. Why should the
thought of him having what he wanted tear at her heart like a jagged blade?
That day at Eltham, Jamie had told her he had reason to hope Bedford would facilitate a desirable match for him. And now,
Jamie was returning from a visit to Bedford with a young lady on his arm. He would want a woman like the one on the dock.
A woman he could hover over and protect. A woman who would not embarrass him.
Noise from the hall drifted up to where she stood alone on the staircase. Word of the arrival of the royal guest must have
spread, leading everyone to fill the Great Hall to see and be seen. The Christmas festivities could now begin.
Linnet was not feeling festive.
A man emerged from the hall and walked toward the stairs. When he looked up and caught sight of Linnet, he smiled broadly
and put his hand to his heart.
“The very woman I longed to see,” Edmund Beaufort called out to her as he ran up the stairs two at a time.
“Good day to you, Edmund.” She offered him her hand. “Did you come on the barge with Sir James? Perhaps you can help me find
him.”
He kissed her hand and placed it on his arm.
“I came by horse, but I saw Sir James in the hall,” he said as they started down the stairs together. “You will find him with
his soon-to-be betrothed. He traveled here with her and her father.
“Take care!” Edmund caught her as her foot missed a step.
Oblivious to her distress, Edmund leaned close and said in a low voice, “Frankly, ’tis a better match than anyone expected,
given how modest his own holdings are. James Rayburn should count himself a lucky man.”
And she was the most unlucky of women. For the second time, she had lost the only man she ever loved.
L
innet craned her neck to look for Jamie over the crush of people.
“Come sit next to me.” The queen linked her arm with Linnet’s and led her to where large cushions had been placed on the floor
in a semicircle.
“We are sitting on the floor?”
“ ’Tis the best place to view the men’s dancing competition.” The queen took Edmund’s proffered hand and sank gracefully to
the floor.
“I thought there was to be a mummers’ play,” Linnet said, not that she cared what the entertainment was tonight. Where was
Jamie? She was intent on discovering if there was any truth to what Edmund had said. If he was looking for her, too, they
should have found each other by now.
“Sit down, Linnet,” Queen Katherine said with a laugh as she tugged at the hem of Linnet’s gown.
The king would arrive with Bedford in just two days. The prospect of having her son in the same castle, albeit in a separate
apartment and under the watch of another woman, had put the queen in a lively mood.
After casting another look around the room for Jamie, Linnet took Edmund’s hand and sat on the cushion next to the queen.
Edmund dropped to one knee beside her. “I must leave you to join the other men for the competition,” Edmund said, holding
both her hand and her gaze for far too long. “May I ask for your favor?”
Linnet arched her eyebrows. “My what?”
“Your favor,” Edmund repeated. “Say you will cheer for me to win the competition.”
“Certainly. I shall clap the loudest.”
He kissed her hand. Looking up at her with the devil in his eyes, he said in a hushed voice, “And what favor will you grant
me if I win, sweet one?”
She leaned forward and whispered back, “I am not at all sweet, so do not expect to like what I give you.”
“I shall take my chances.” He grinned and winked at her. “A reward may be all the more delicious for not being sweet.”
Before she could pinch him, Edmund ran off to join the young men who were gathering opposite the ladies on the floor.
The queen leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Owen claims to be a poor dancer, but I begged him to join the competition.”
She giggled like a girl and added, “It gives me an excuse to watch him. Does he not look fine in his new clothes?”
The short green tunic and orange leggings revealed Owen’s muscular thighs to advantage.
“The tunic is a gift from you?” Linnet asked.
“As my clerk of the wardrobe, his appearance reflects
upon me,” Queen Katherine said. “ ’Tis important he dress well.”
That may be true, but Linnet doubted the queen’s clerk would have received such a fine gift if he were a paunchy man of sixty.
Joannna Belknap, one of the queen’s ladies who sat farther down the row, leaned forward to get their attention. “The dancers
are ready! Here is the first one.”
The ladies clapped enthusiastically as each young man took his turn, twirling around the circle and leaping over a candle
set on a tall holder in the middle. The third man was Edmund Beaufort, who proved to be an accomplished dancer. When he leapt
as gracefully as a hart over the candle flame with a foot to spare, the women whooped and stamped their feet in a most unladylike
fashion.
After a final set of spins around the circle, Edmund took a running leap over the candle with his arms and legs extended.
As he landed, he dropped to his knees and slid across the floor to stop just in front of Linnet. Linnet threw her head back
laughing—until she felt a prickle at the back of her neck.
She turned to see Jamie leaning against the wall with some of the other men who were not participating. His eyes were hot
on her, and he was
not
cheering. Perhaps all was not lost. Jamie looked as if he was torn between murdering her and ripping her clothes off. Linnet
met his gaze and held it, not caring who noticed.
The queen elbowed Linnet in the ribs, drawing her attention back to the dancers. “It’s Owen’s turn!”
Edmund Beaufort remained where he was, half lying on the floor in front of Linnet, as the musicians began a new song and Owen
took the stage.
Owen had a heavy, muscular frame better suited to a jousting contest than a dancing competition. Owen, however, was the sort
of man who could risk making a fool of himself and laugh about it. This lightheartedness was part of what attracted the queen
to him. Though Owen could not begin to match Edmund’s performance, he danced with such lively good humor that the ladies soon
burst into applause.
“Please do not appear so enthralled, Your Grace,” Linnet whispered, though of course it did no good.
The music grew faster, signaling that the song and Owen’s turn were coming to an end.
The ladies’ cheering encouraged Owen to make a final round of the circle. As he skirted the side where the ladies sat, Linnet
saw that the hem of someone’s gown was draped across the floor directly in Owen’s path. Before she could shout out a warning,
Owen’s foot caught on the fabric.
“Oh!” Too late, Linnet screamed as Owen flew through the air, sending the ladies scattering and leaping to their feet.
Linnet stared, not quite believing it. Owen had landed facedown… in the queen’s lap.
The music died on an off-key chord. The room went still as everyone stared openmouthed at the queen with Owen’s face buried
in her lap. The silence grew deafening as the guests waited for the queen to shout her outrage.
Instead, the queen slapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes danced, and her shoulders shook.
“Owen, get up!” Linnet hissed, giving him a none-too-discreet kick.
Owen lifted his head—which, most unfortunately,
was still between the queen’s thighs—and Her Highness fought against another burst of giggles.
Owen tried to get up, but his feet were hopelessly tangled in the queen’s voluminous skirts. As if by magic, Jamie appeared
and hauled Owen to his feet. The two men scraped low bows to the queen—and then were gone.
“A
re there no more dancers?” Linnet called out above the buzz of whispers in the hall.
When she gave Edmund a pleading look, he clapped his hands and shouted, “Music! Come, Sir Gerald, let us see if you can best
me.”
Linnet sighed with relief as a young man took to the floor and the music of flute, harp, and drum filled the hall.
“God bless you, Edmund,” she said close to his ear. “Will you stay with Queen Katherine? I have something I must attend to.”
“Anything for you, my sweet,” Edmund said and kissed her hand yet again.
She really would have to have a talk with him, but not now.
As she made her way through the crowd, she caught bits of conversation and raucous laughter.
“Who was that in the queen’s lap?”
“Don’t know, but I’d say it was not the first time he’s been there!”
God help her, this was a disaster. With everyone looking
for signs of an improper liaison between the queen and Owen, the truth could readily be discovered.
By the time Linnet reached the foyer, Jamie and Owen were nowhere in sight. After a quick look in the nearby rooms, she ran
across the upper yard without a cloak. The chamber where she and Jamie usually met had most likely been given to one of the
new guests, but she would check it anyway.
An instant after she rapped on the door, Jamie filled the doorway, towering above her.
“Where is Owen?” she asked as she scurried past him. Odd, but the room was warm, as if the brazier had been lit for some time.
“Don’t trouble yourself about Owen,” Jamie said. “He is safely out of the way for tonight.”
Linnet threw her hands up in exasperation. “How can the queen be so foolish over him?”
“It must be that she loves him,” Jamie said with an edge to his voice.
“What kind of answer is that?” Linnet said, turning around to face him. “She risks both their lives with this affair.”
“For a woman in love, no sacrifice is too great,” he said. “Or so I have been told.”
His tone was hard and angry, and she did not understand why.
“I did not wait here half the afternoon to talk about Owen and the queen,” he said.
Jamie had been waiting for her? Had he meant to break the news of his betrothal to her alone?
“And now, I want to know what in the name of all the saints you have been doing with Edmund Beaufort,” he
said, his voice steadily rising. “Tell me, did you send for him to take my place the moment I was gone?”
His eyes were blazing. When he took a step closer, she had to fight the urge to step back.
“Could you not go a week without a man in your bed?”
This must be what he looked like when he charged at an enemy across a field. But now, she was just as angry. It welled in
her chest and pounded in her ears.
“By what right,” she said in a low voice that could have cut steel, “do you believe you can question what I do?”
“Was that silver-tongued Edmund Beaufort man enough for you, or did you bestow your gifts upon others as well?” He took a
step closer, and this time she did step back. “You did say one man might not be able to satisfy your needs.”
She could not believe she was hearing this.
“How dare you!” She slapped her hand to her chest, saying, “I am the one who is wronged here.”
“You, the one wronged?” he thundered. “You, the innocent?”
“You have a lot of gall, Jamie Rayburn, to ask me insulting questions about other men, when you have gone behind my back and
gotten yourself betrothed.”
From the way Jamie’s mouth fell open, he had not expected her to know about his betrothal yet. What kind of fool did he think
she was?
“Did you think I would not hear of it?” she asked, her voice going perilously high and thin. “You could not be bothered to
tell me first? You must bring her here to Windsor to surprise me with the news?”
The anger seemed to have gone out of him. Guilt could
do that. He reached his hand out to her, but she lifted her arms and stepped back from him.
“How could you, Jamie?” she said, tears stinging her eyes despite herself. She hated crying. Hated, hated, hated it. She clenched
her fists and turned her back to him.
“I knew all along you would leave me,” she said, trying and failing to control the shake in her voice. “But I thought you
would be kinder in how you did it this time. We had an agreement, remember? When you wished to end it, you were to tell me
first.”
He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. As soon as he touched her, her body began to convulse in silent
sobs.
“Just go!” she said in a choked whisper. She could not bear to have him see her like this, weak and sniveling.
“I am not betrothed,” he said, his breath against her hair. “I would have told you.”
“Edmund says it is all arranged.”
“It is true that the bishop and Bedford suggested the connection,” he said. “But that is all.”
She wiped her nose on her sleeve, even though it was very bad for the velvet.
“What will you do?” she asked, managing to keep her voice steady this time.
“I am the sort of man who needs a home, a family. A wife.”
It shouldn’t hurt this much to hear him say it. But in her heart, she knew this was true about him. She had known it since
the day he left her in Paris. Tears were flowing so hard now that she did not bother swiping at them with her sleeve.
“I want more than a lover,” he said. “I want a woman
who will make a life with me and be the mother of my children.”
He was leaving her.
She had to hold her breath to keep from breaking into loud sobs like a five–year-old. Misery twisted at her gut; at the same
time, she felt faint and nauseous.
“I love you, Linnet, but ’tis all or nothing with me,” he said. “You will make your pledge to me, or I will find another.”
Jamie loved her.
As she turned to face him, his arms came around her. She rested her head against his chest. It had been such a long, long
time since he had told her he loved her.