Knights by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

blew out the candle and climbed into bed in her chemise. There, beneath the covers, as she had been assiduously taught, Gloriana wriggled out of her undergarment. It seemed cumbersome to go to so much trouble to be decent when one was all alone in a room anyway, but she performed the ritual nonetheless, because modesty required it.
    Lying in the gathering darkness, Gloriana finally allowed herself to weep. She had looked forward to this night for so long, expecting to be held by her husband, and cherished, and finally deflowered. She had even dared to hope she and Kenbrook might conceive a child right away. Instead, she was alone, while Dane’s true love slumbered beneath the same roof, and there was naught to look forward to but an ominous interview in Lady Hadleigh’s solar after morning mass.
    Although she thought she would lie sleepless until the morning came, Gloriana drifted off within momentsand found herself in the grip of a dream that had not visited her in a long time.
    Purgatory, perhaps she was in purgatory, for this was a loud, busy place where everything moved too fast and people wore strange garments and spoke in a tongue Gloriana could not understand, even though it was familiar to her. In the dream, she was not Gloriana St. Gregory, a woman grown, but a child called Megan.
    She carried a beautiful doll in her arms and wandered, lost and alone, through the ruins of an old abbey, searching for someone who did not particularly want to be found. She watched as a gate took shape in a crumbling wall, almost remembering.
    Strange words came from her lips, and she knew what they meant only by the desolation in her heart.
They don’t want me
.
    She awakened suddenly, thrusting herself up and out of the dream, gasping for breath, her slender but sturdy body damp with perspiration.
    Gloriana lay trembling in her bed, remembering at last. Once, she had chattered incessantly about the Other Place, and even written about it, believing it to be real. The Lady Elaina and eventually Edwenna, as well, had cautioned her not to share the tales with anyone else. Over time, Gloriana had put away her writings and gradually faced the fact that she’d only imagined the adventure. Often, years passed without her thinking, even once, of that land she’d created in her mind, but then an image or a word would pop into her mind or she’d dream about it, as she had this night.
    She snuggled down in her thick feather mattress and closed her eyes, determined to sleep, but her bladder wanted emptying. Resigned, she reached for her chemiseand, with a dutiful sigh, pulled it on over her head before slipping out from under the covers. Gloriana did not know which she hated more, the chamber pot beneath her bed or the noxious privies at the end of the passage, which emptied into a special conduit beneath the castle.
    A memory came to her, if something that had never happened could be called by such a name, of a clean and glistening device made for personal convenience, and she yearned for that luxury. In the meanwhile, she contented herself with the chamber pot and, after washing her hands in the basin, climbed back into bed and went through the whole rite of removing her chemise all over again.
    After much tossing and turning, Gloriana finally slept, and this time her rest was untroubled. At cock’s crow she rose and dressed hastily in the chilly dawn. Her gown was simple brown wool, and she donned a cloak as well, for warmth and for the hood that would hide her hair. This was done out of deference to God, and not her husband, for it would be blasphemous to appear in church without a proper covering.
    The mysterious Mariette must have been ill for, unlike everyone else in the vast household, she did not appear at mass that morning. Dane arrived soon after Gloriana did, flanked by both Edward and Gareth, and slipped into the pew beside his wife. She noted, in a sidelong look, that there was a grim set to his jaw and a certain pallor to his