Читать книгу My Lady Midnight - Laurie Grant - Страница 10

Coverly Castle, England

January 1135

“Is he handsome, your betrothed?” Claire asked her best friend, Julia, who was also a distant cousin.

“I suppose so,” the older girl said with a sniff, tossing her silver-gilt curls, “if you care for a swarthy sort of man.” Her expression said that she did not. She examined a minor smudge on her gown of green silk. She reached over and twitched the end of one thick, golden braid at Claire’s nose teasingly.

Claire laughed. “But Julia, he is a baron! Haimo is but a knight, and a second son at that.”

“Bah! I had hoped for an earl,” Julia informed her, her nose wrinkling in a way Claire found unattractive, though she never would have told Julia so. “And Hawkswell Castle looked cold and forbidding when we visited last week for the betrothal. ’Tis nothing like Tinchley. But with King Henry like to die at any moment and leave his daughter the throne, Father says it would be well to have an alliance with a noble known to be loyal to the empress, no matter that Father would prefer to see Stephen on the throne.”

“But you’ll soon make it a warm and welcoming keep, I’m sure of it,” Claire assured her friend. “I hope so, for I’m going to beg Haimo to bring me for a visit just as soon as we are wed.”

“Hummph. I don’t see why your father won’t bring you to the wedding this spring.”

Claire sighed. It was still a sore point with her, too. “He says it falls too close to my betrothal to Haimo d’Audemer, and that there is apt to be unrest in the realm as soon as the old king breathes his last, for there are many who do not want to see his arrogant daughter crowned.”

“Men!” Julia said with a snort. “They don’t give a fig for our wishes, do they? I’ve already heard rumors about my husband to be, and they please me not.”

“Rumors? What rumors?” asked Claire curiously. Julia narrowed her eyes and shrugged. “I heard his servants whispering, that’s all. It seems my future lord was quite the womanizer, when he was newly knighted. They said he’d sired a bastard.”

“What of it? Many young bachelors do so, I believe,” Claire said, trying to keep her tone light, though inwardly she was dismayed for her friend and cousin. She was certain Haimo, whom she was to marry, would never do such a thing.

Julia’s laugh was brittle, her gray eyes wintry. “Indeed! Men may do as they like, and women have naught to say about it, have you not noticed?”

Claire reached out a sympathetic hand. “I’m certain ’twas but a youthful indiscretion, and one he repents of already, now that he’s to wed you, cousin. You’ll see, he’ll love you dearly, and he’ll have no need of a leman with you as his wife. And you’ll give him children—legitimate children, sons who can inherit.”

“Mayhap.” Julia sighed, and tossed her silvery blond curls again.