Impostress by Lisa Jackson Read Free Book Online Page B

the nothing-talk of his new father-in-law and the stares of the twit of a sister. She was a mite of a thing who, every time he glanced her way, would quickly look aside, blush, and bite her lower lip. As if she was guilty of some dire deed.
    Which was foolish thinking.
    Courses came and went. Roasted stag and peacock, jellied eggs and crisp, sweet tarts. Stuffed eel and pike with ginger. Baked apples and wine. Mazer after mazer of wine. His cup was never left to empty.
    Settled low on his back he watched without any interest as jugglers and dancers and an insipid jester with bald jokes passed by the table. They were meant to entertain the honored guests, the Lord and Lady of Penbrooke, which only made it more obvious that the seat next to him remained vacant. As each platter was served, he expected his bride to appear and caught the glimpses, raised eyebrows, and not-so-quiet jokes at his expense.
    "Hasn't been married but a few hours and already 'tis obvious who will run the keep," one fat merchant muttered under his breath.
    A snort. "Would you expect anything else from Lady Elyn? A feisty one she is. With a mind of her own."
    "Would ye not like to be a mouse in the rushes tonight when the lord takes her to his bed?"
    Hearty chuckles at that. Kelan's back teeth ground together painfully.
    "Mayhap
she'll
do the taking."
    The two men laughed loudly over the plaintive strains of the lyre. Christ Jesus, did the woman mean to string him up by his balls for all to see and jeer at? This flagrant disobedience was more than embarrassing; it was a mockery of the vows they'd spoken only hours earlier and meant to make a needle-sharp and very public point. She would pay for this insubordination, oh, she would pay and pay dearly for every titter, raised eyebrow, and knowing smile cast at his expense.
    'Twas no wonder Kelan felt as if he'd been played for a fool. Everyone in the great hall sensed it as well. His wife had better appear and soon, or he'd be the laughingstock of not only this keep, but his own as well, for gossip traveled faster than the swiftest steed, racing through the villages, along the dark roads, and through the neighboring keeps.
    Irritated, his temper darker with each passing minute, he swilled mazer after mazer of wine, ignoring the stares of the curious, trying to concentrate on the worthless talk. But all the while in his mind he was conjuring ways of making his wife atone for his shame.
    Tonight, when they were alone, he'd find a way to make his wayward bride understand that he would never abide disobedience from her. At the very least, she should have made a brief appearance and sat with him.
    " 'Tis sorry I am about Elyn," the old man said as if he'd finally realized his daughter was missing. Sighing, he set aside his cup. "A headstrong one, she is ... well, they all are. Mayhap you will be blessed with sons." His smile twisted sadly and his eyes, milky white with age, looked over Kelan's shoulder to a spot only he could see. "Not that the girls aren't a godsend, mind you. A godsend, but ... they lost their mother when they were young and, I suppose, I should have remarried ... they needed a woman's touch ..." His frail voice faded as if he'd said too much or his mind had wandered to new, unclear territory. "Yes, sons. That's what you need." Slapping the table as if he'd said something profound, he motioned the serving girl for more wine. "Zelda ... our guest of honor's cup is nearly empty."
    As the serving maid scurried off in search of a fresh jug of wine, Kelan glanced again toward the arched entrance of the great hall, where the bottom steps of the staircase were visible. Much as he willed her to, his wayward wife, of course, did not appear. Rage burned through his blood and he could feel the wine he'd been drinking was going to his head. He could usually drink as much as the next man, but tonight, mayhap due to his irritation, he felt a little light-headed and fuzzy, as if his mind was one step away from