My Lady's Choice

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“Well, I guessed that right away. What must we do to make you laugh, I wonder?” She sidled away from him and then turned toward the kitchens.

His eyes remained on her back until she was out of sight. She could feel the heat of his glare. It warmed more than her heart, she thought with a secret smile.

Richard watched Sara’s hips sway as she left him standing in the hall. She did that apurpose, he knew.

With those long legs and slender curves, the woman had to work at that enticing, follow-me saunter. She usually moved with a firm and purposeful stride. She continued to taunt him, now without any words.

Despite knowing that, he was still watching when the hall door burst open just behind him.

A breathless lad he’d met earlier gasped, “Milord…banners. Royal. Quarter league distant. A herald rides hard for the gates.”

King Edward. Richard groaned beneath his breath. He was not looking forward to this.

Chapter Five

Richard reached for the boy’s shoulder and gave him a gentle push toward the kitchens. “Go and inform my lady the king’s almost here. She must join me in the bailey to greet him.”

Richard had barely made the bottom step before Sara caught up and passed him in a flurry of skirts. No foolish prancing now, he thought, hiding a grin. She ran like a courier with news of attack.

He calmly observed her sending everyone about her into a state of panic.

Several moments later, he saw that he’d been mistaken. Every soul left in the courtyard had been given a specific task to perform and each was about it.

By the time the king and his retinue arrived, Richard wagered the tables still standing from the earlier feast would be laden with more food.

He had to admit, Sara of Fernstowe did not wait upon fate. She caused things to happen. And wasn’t he a case in point?

A short time after, the gates opened to admit Edward and a score of troops, many of whom were comrades Richard had known and served with most of his life.

All would know the tale of his hasty marriage. Probably found it amusing to one degree or another. Richard decided to put a good face on it, just as he had done for Sara’s people.

He threw up a hand and smiled winningly, as though content with it all, then bowed low to Edward.

He noted Sara had smoothed her hair, sucked in a few deep breaths and had a pleasant expression firmly fixed on her face. She curtsied at his side as was proper and looked fully prepared to meet the devil himself. “Well-done,” he heard himself whisper.

She flashed him a brief but heartfelt smile before she composed her face into a mask of earnest welcome for their royal guest.

“Ha, there he stands, by God! Alive and well!” the king shouted as he dismounted. He ignored all the bows and murmurs of Fernstowe’s people and marched forward.

Richard rose from his bow. “Well come, my liege.”

“And glad are we to hear you say it,” Edward replied heartily. He took Sara’s hand and bade her rise from her curtsy. “My dear Lady Sara. Has this knave made you regret saving his hide?”

“Not for a moment, sire. He does me all honor,” Sara said demurely.

Richard did not miss the wry twist to her lips or the twinkle in her eyes as she said it. Neither did the king for he threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

They thought this a grand jest, the two of them, to marry him off while he was in a stupor. As much as he resented what they had done, he knew better than to complain. Instead, he pursed his lips and nodded, granting Edward his drollery, acknowledging that he could play the fool with good grace.

The king’s laughter trailed off as he trained his keen gaze upon Richard until tension trembled the air around them. Then he spoke. “We must speak together.”

Sara beckoned. “Come inside, please, sire. The solar will be comfortable.” She led the way to the steps.

“Madam, forgive us,” Edward said courteously. “I would speak to your husband in private.”

“Oh, of course,” she said with a small shrug. “Shall I send in wine and food for you?”

“No, we shall join the company out here anon. Meanwhile, do not let my men inconvenience you. We will take our leave within the hour.”

Richard did not insist that they remain here any longer than necessary. He ushered the king into the solar, eager to have done with their discussion. It surely involved the trouble with the Scots, probably the activities of his brother.

“Why have you come this way again, sire? You know it is not yet safe hereabout.”

“You dare question my moves now, Richard?”

“It’s a fair concern on my part. Last time you were here, you nearly met death. Who is to block the arrows for you if I can no longer ride beside you?”

“Who, indeed?” The king strolled over to the cushioned chair usually reserved for Sara and took a seat. Richard remained standing until Edward motioned impatiently for him to sit.

He pulled up a sturdy bench and straddled it. One always sat lower than the king. “Where is young John? Did he remain in York?”

The king looked away as though uncomfortable. “I knighted him. I knew you would not mind. He is almost eighteen now, after all. His father wished it and John was ready.”

Richard did mind. He had fostered John of Brabent for over five years, since the lad was thirteen. It was Richard’s place to say when knighthood was in order. Lord Brabent had not wanted his son to return to this troubled part of the country, that was the gist of it. Probably wise of him, since his son was not as ready to don spurs as the king thought.

“How are matters in York?” Richard asked, brushing his disappointment aside.

Edward scoffed. “Same as ever. Unruly nodcocks.” He leaned forward. “Richard, I am come because my conscience will not let me sleep. I fear I’ve done you a wrong you do not deserve.”

Did he dare reply to that? Did the king mean setting him against his Scottish brother, or did he speak of the unconventional marriage?

“The queen was not amused,” Edward admitted. “She writes that she spoke to the archbishop on your behalf. The marriage can be undone,” he said, answering Richard’s question in as apologetic a tone as he’d ever heard the king use. “Unless you have bedded the girl. Then I suppose you would feel honor-bound to stay with her. You have not, have you?”

“No,” Richard admitted, feeling very uneasy when he should be delighted.

“Because you’ve not been well enough, or because she displeases you so much?”

“It is true that I did not wish to marry,” Richard equivocated. Now was his chance. Why wasn’t he jumping at it, grabbing at the opportunity for an annulment? He would. “What will happen to her if we invalidate the marriage and I leave here?”

The king lifted one shoulder and cocked his head. “I shall give her to someone else.”

“Who?” Richard demanded.

“Lord Aelwyn, I expect. He’s best prepared to hold the place since his own lies close.”

“No!” Richard almost shouted, then carefully lowered his voice. “Not him.”

Edward chuckled. “Do you know the man? Is he unworthy?”

Richard had to admit he’d never met Sara’s suitor, nor did he wish to. “No, but Sara did not want him to begin with and should not be forced to wed where she will be unhappy. You did promise her a choice.”

The king waved that away as unimportant. “Aelwyn must want her right badly for some reason. Likely to increase his property. Many would not persist in a suit as he has done, once they saw that face of hers.”