Almost Innocent by Jane Feather Read Free Book Online Page B

companions and the sport and training at arms that had always given him the most pleasure. And Lord de Gervais would not blame him, for all that he understood Magdalen’s inability to enter into the spirit of the game. When a girl was thrust directly from childhood into matrimony, there was little enough time for the development and enjoyment of romantic play.
    It was inappropriate in marriage, anyway, he reflected, turning back to the house. That institution was purely instrumental, and romantic entanglements were the province of illicit relationships. But even as he thought this, he caught a glimpse of Gwendoline through the arch to the second court talking with the steward. Her frailty tore at him. They both knew she had upon her the mark of death, and there were many nights when he knelt at the altar rail in the chapel praying for the strength to bear her loss.
    Ten years they had been married, he at sixteen, she at thirteen. During a lull in the long, drawnout conflict between England and France, he had been sent to England to the court of the Duke of Lancaster as page. John of Gaunt had taken a liking to the lad and had arranged the alliance for him with the powerful Saxon Redefordes. It was an alliance that transformed the fortunes of the younger son even as it brought him the responsibilities of an English liege lord, responsibilities which compelled his loyalty to his adopted land. Gwendoline brought him land and a dowry of majestic proportions, and with such possessions came power and an earldom. John of Gaunt’s personal patronagewas extended to the Redeforde family in return, and the duke bought himself a vassal who could be trusted to act for him in the most delicate matters, as well as bear arms in his service and the service of the king.
    The union had been childless, but since the nurseries at Hampton had been occupied by Guy’s wards, both the lord and lady had had their hands filled with the concerns of children. There were inheritances to manage, educations to order, physical health to attend to, and marriages to arrange. And throughout all this ordering, the Duke of Lancaster’s thread had been sewn. The child responsibilities of his vassal were to be put to his own use, and in no more particular an instance as the wedding of de Gervais’s nephew to Magdalen of Bellair.
    “Guy?” Gwendoline left the steward and came through the arch to meet him, the extreme thinness of her frame accentuated by her close-fitting gown. “Have the children left?”
    “Yes, with much excitement. Poor Edmund presented Magdalen with a posy which she immediately distributed to the others, causing him some considerable mortification in front of his friends.” He laughed, slipping a hand beneath her arm as if in casual affection, yet they both knew that it was for support, although neither of them would acknowledge it openly.
    “I wonder what the duke will make of her,” mused the lady. “Let us walk in the orchard, my lord.”
    “I doubt he will trouble himself to make anything of her.” Guy turned toward the gate of the court. “He has shown no interest in her up to now. The child is merely a useful pawn. The church has granted legitimacy, finally. Rome is willing to accept that a binding contract existed between Isolde de Beauregard and the Duke of Lancaster before his first marriage, a contract subsequently dissolved, but nevertheless all children of the union are deemed legitimate.”
    “But Magdalen must have been conceived when the duke was married,” Gwendoline objected as they walked through the wicket gate leading to the orchard.
    “Nevertheless, Rome has decreed that she is legitimate,” her husband told her, reaching up to pluck a sprig of apple blossom. “Rome has been well paid to do so.” He placed the blossom behind her ear, where her hair curled beneath the white linen coif. “There, now you are queen of the May, sweet lady.” Bending, he touched his lips to hers, and she leaned into