The Bride Tournament (4 page)

She hadn’t changed, still slender and lovely in a tight-sleeved green gown. Her cone-shaped headdress hid hair he knew to be dark red.

“My wedding is over. Yet you remain.”

“How could I leave without witnessing the bedding?” she asked. “You’ve been handed a beauty, and a wealthy one, too. What more could you ask?”

He would prefer that his bride didn’t prefer his friend.

“They say she’s as willful as I. But I know you’re up to the task of handling her.” Blanche ran her hand down his arm. He stepped away.

She tossed her head, sending her veils afloat. Her sultry smile disappeared. “Henry and the House of Lancaster will rule again. Remember to whom you owe your loyalties, who your friends are. Those who have risen highest have farthest to fall.”

Richard couldn’t stop the frisson of alarm whisking through him. She could be right. King Edward yet faced uprisings from those who supported Henry, the previous king. In these uncertain times, another switch in power could bring Richard down as easily as a weakened wall succumbed to a siege. He had to help Edward remain king.

One way was to find his father’s missing alchemy scrolls. Then, if he’d discovered a formula that worked, Edward could produce the coin he sorely needed to protect and support his realm.

With an abrupt nod, Richard rejoined his countess, who’d returned to the table.

Arthur’s extolling of Eleanor’s beauty hadn’t prepared him for his first sight of her earlier today rushing down the winding staircase, blue skirts in both hands. She’d halted at the bottom, wavy golden hair tumbling over her shoulders to her hips.

Her lips had been full and smiling, eyes he now knew to be violet shining. Her whole being radiated joy. She’d not yet been told of the change in grooms and so knew nothing of him. Still, it had pained him that her enthusiasm was for Arthur.

Someday she’ll look at me that way.

What a fool notion. What difference did it make if she cared for him? He was more than fortunate to have risen so high and to be gifted with a bride of her beauty and holdings. He looked forward to searching his new estates and learning more about their fathers’ partnership.

Eleanor’s exquisite form and kissable lips awakened a different type of anticipation. He imagined her beneath him, awaiting his touch, hair spread over the pillows. A gossamer nightgown would hint at treasures beneath, her sweet scent….

Soon, Richard thought. Soon.

One didn’t need to love his wife to enjoy her. Or to give her pleasure.

As they left the table, he smiled. Since joining Edward’s household fifteen years ago, his steadfast support and superior fighting skills had earned him a title far above any he’d hoped for as the oldest son of an alchemist.

What could possibly go wrong now?

Eleanor took Richard’s hand, the jaws of the trap squashing her. She was his, and to prove it he would parade her about like a cow on market day. Yet his skin was warm, somehow soothing. She’d appreciate that comfort, just for a moment.

Several couples graciously stepped back to clear space. Another song began, suitable for a basse dance. The rhythmic beat almost lulled her into enjoying it. She couldn’t deny Richard cut a fine figure as he completed the slow steps.

“This day has been one surprise after another for you. I’m sorry for that,” he said.

“I blame my father.” Bitterness rankled.

“You deserved to know when we did.”

His sympathy, his support, startled her. Softened the sharp edge of pain. “My lord,” she began.

“Richard.”

“Richard, then. I—”

His fingers tightened on hers as the dance continued. “You wanted to marry Arthur.”

“Yes.” Though true, his bluntness stung. She wouldn’t lie, even to spare his feelings or pride. “Arthur told me all you’ve done for him. Perhaps you’ll do one thing more—agree that you and I aren’t truly wed. I argue thusly: my betrothal to Arthur was annulled without my knowledge or consent, so said annulment isn’t valid. ’Tis of course no reflection on you.”

Why did she care how her words affected him?

He didn’t speak.

“Can you know what it is to have hoped for something all of your life, then have it snatched from your grasp?”

“Yes.” Pain flashed in his gaze, sparking sympathy in her. “And I regret it happened to you. But what we want matters not.” He sounded just like Arthur. “Many, including your father and the king, wish our union. It is done. So let’s make the best of our marriage. Can you, will you, do that?”

The heat of his gaze made her skin prickle. Eleanor looked down, only to see his muscled thighs flexing as he moved, brushing intimately against her skirts. Their faces were inches apart. His skin was flushed from their exertions, with a thin beading of sweat on his brow. She felt his rapid breathing. His heat burned through her gown. Would this dance never end?

“I need to sit,” she whispered.

They returned to their seats. Eleanor’s face ached from forced smiling, her feet throbbed, her stomach threatened to rebel. She rose, prompting a cheer from the men and squeals from the women. Without meaning to, she’d made it time for the bedding.

What difference did a few minutes make? There was no way to avoid the inevitable procession to the bridal chamber. Eleanor had no need to fear what came after, for she’d ensure there’d be no consummation.

Women chattered like a nest of hungry birds as they climbed the twisting stairs. In her large chamber, some scattered fresh rose petals on the curtained bed, others helped her undress. She clenched her teeth as they helped her climb into bed and smoothed the covers over her.

For ages brides had withstood this public display to prove they came to their grooms unblemished. So could she. But there’d be no endless stream of lewd comments and even lewder gestures. Alyce had been instructed to forcibly shoo the crowd out like a herd of swine, if need be.

Her sister leaned close, arranging Eleanor’s hair over rose scented pillows.

“Alyce, what am I to do?”

“What all women do. Accept their fate,” she answered. “What choice do you have? Please, Eleanor, think before you act.” Alyce hugged her, then returned to the others.

Linen sheets chilled Eleanor’s skin, too-sweet roses made her nose itch. The incessant, shrill giggling was enough to make her clasp her hands over her ears.

The door burst open, almost crushing a hapless woman behind it. A throng of men swirled into the chamber amidst laughter and stomping feet.

Richard looked as grim as she felt. He removed his enameled collar and short velvet tunic, placing them on his wood chest.

“Look at that. Let’s see what else he’s got beneath those hose,” a woman said.

The other women laughed.

“What about the beauteous bride? Is she naked under there?” More laughter.

Eleanor clutched the sheets to her neck, hiding as much as she could for as long as she could. She couldn’t stop trembling. How mortifying to be forced to display yourself to everyone you knew. Yet when the time came, she’d stand proudly before them all.

The earl, clad now in his silk pourpoint, approached the bed. His shoulders were truly broad, not enhanced by padding as she had assumed. The contours of his chest were impressive. His hose outlined powerful thighs.

His physical perfection changed nothing. If their marriage were consummated, having it annulled would prove even more difficult. But what were the consequences of refusing him? What had he meant earlier by “defiance leads to hardship?” She licked her dry lips.

“See how the bride hungers for the groom!”

“Eleanor wants to eat him up.”

The men cheered.

The earl studied her. He turned to the crowd, hands poised to untie his hose from his undertunic. Some women were like to drool, their mouths hung so far open. He undid one tie.
 
“Our thanks for your friendship. But you have seen all you’re going to see. Return to the music and drink. Enjoy.”

“I need some good luck. Her garter is mine!” A portly man stumbled forward, arms outstretched.

Eleanor recoiled.

Richard stopped the man with a hand to his chest. “Out. Now. Every last one of you.”

Disgruntled moans and groans ensued, but in the face of his hard stare the onlookers slowly took their leave. With a sympathetic smile, Alyce closed the door behind her.

The silence after the revelry was both welcome and strained.

Richard’s back flexed as he untied his hose. “I received training to be a knight and land owner. You were taught how to be a chatelaine. Some information on how to be husband and wife would’ve proved useful.”

She relaxed a bit. “You’re right. I was told only to be obedient. And that by law, advantages convey to the husband. Not very encouraging.” Had her mother lived, would she be better prepared for this moment? Being alone with a man while disrobed, husband or not, and carrying on a conversation felt awkward to say the least. If they’d had time to know each other, better yet, being in love, would mitigate such things.

“I suppose each couple learns together. And makes their own rules.”

“A nice thought. If both members of the couple wish to remain wed to each other. You didn’t want to wed me. Nor I you.” Nakedness left her feeling uncomfortable and insecure. Weak. With the sheets still clutched to her, she reached for the silk robe draped across the bottom of the bed. She slipped it on. “The new king needs powerful lords to support him. He aims to have our lands united, not you and I. I fear my father has misled you about the size of his coffers. If you release me, you can seek a trustworthy father-by-law.” She slid off the bed and walked to him. “Would that suffice?”

The rich, well-sauced foods Richard had eaten churned within. So much for his good fortune. On his wedding night his bride asked, nay, begged him to release her. To another man.

If he complied, he’d lose all he’d just gained. If he didn’t, she could resent him for the rest of their days. He couldn’t survive that.

“I understand your confusion and dismay over all of the sudden changes.” She wasn’t rejecting him personally, so his manly pride should remain intact. Her insistence on dissolving their union rankled nonetheless. Yet in a strange manner, it also bothered him that he couldn’t accommodate her. “But the answer is no. The king gifted me with more than your holdings. I don’t need them, or your father’s coin.”

Delicate fingers clung to her linen night robe. Her flowing golden hair tempted him to touch it despite everything.

“How can you want a woman who loves another?”

“Far sharper weapons than your tongue have sought to wound me.” Yet Richard steeled himself against the prick of her words. “Marriage isn’t about love, but duty and honor. We’re wed in the eyes of God, king and man. So we shall remain.” He’d come to his senses. The flash of yearning for anything beyond that had disappeared. He stepped closer and waited until she looked at him. “You are mine now, and what is mine I keep. Do not think to betray me.”

Her violet eyes widened, but she said nothing. He knew he sounded harsh. How else could he let her know he wouldn’t tolerate disloyalty?

He wouldn’t divulge his own foray into love and subsequent disillusionment, nor the perfidy of his mother. He’d learned not to trust women he knew well who’d professed love. So how could he trust Eleanor?

“I believe in familial love, the deep caring one has for siblings and parents, which grows over time. That’s what I hope we can someday share. Much of life is either restraint or sin. People of our station have duties to fulfill and can’t afford to succumb to every yearning. Why should life be different for you?”

“Because…because….” Her face fell and her shoulders sagged. Had the long day taken its toll, or was this a new womanly strategy to avoid him? “Because we just met.”

Richard folded his clothing until his sympathy subsided. He couldn’t let her reluctance sway him. “I thought for certes you’d send me on a merry chase tonight by hiding. Or are you waiting until I fall asleep so you can climb out the window?”

He earned only a faint smile. “My thanks for the excellent ideas. Perhaps on the morrow.” Eleanor returned to bed, still wearing her robe.

Though stunningly beautiful, in her unhappy state Eleanor didn’t arouse him. If her lack of enthusiasm wasn’t enough to demolish desire, he couldn’t seem to forget that she wanted his friend.

Their marriage had to be consummated or it wouldn’t be as binding. Perhaps if he touched her soft flesh, inhaled her woman’s scent, enticed her with his caresses….

He sat beside her. She smelled sweet and fresh, like lemons. After waiting a moment to let her adjust to his nearness, he stroked her luxurious hair as he’d longed to since he saw her. Smooth as the finest samite. She allowed him to run his fingers through each golden lock, but he sensed her skittishness. He’d tame her with utmost patience, akin to the way he’d succeed with an unbroken horse.

Richard bent toward her, seeking the delicate skin on her neck. His finger pushed away the edge of her robe, exposing a thin gold chain. He kissed her neck just above the chain and she shivered. An expected response from most women of his acquaintance, but did Eleanor shiver with desire or distaste?