Midnight Magic by Shari Anton Read Free Book Online Page B

Welsh princess?”
    Sedwick thought for a moment, then answered, “Sir Hugh met her ladyship at court. Her father was among a Welsh delegation sent to petition King Henry for one thing or another. Hugh told me he took one look at the beautiful Lydia and lost both his heart and ability to speak. Apparently the father and daughter were amenable to the match.”
    “I gather the king did not object.”
    “Not that I am aware of.”
    Hugh had married for love? Alberic nudged his horse forward, mulling over the oddity.
    Surely, for a Welsh prince and an English king to agree to the match, there had been considerations to the bargain other than a baron’s attraction to a princess.
    Normally, barons were given heiresses by their overlords, either as a reward or to seal an alliance. Love deserved no place in a marriage contract between nobles, not when lands and wealth were at stake.
    As with his own marriage; by marrying one of the de Leon daughters, Alberic sealed his claim to Sir Hugh’s estates. Neither attraction nor love had aught to do with his decision of which daughter to choose.
    That King Stephen had given Alberic the right to choose among the females might be an oddity, but that the king retained guardianship of the other two wasn’t. In time, Stephen would exploit those rights in whatever way he saw fit.
    Though Alberic hadn’t yet decided which of the three would become his wife, he’d caught himself noticing Gwendolyn more than the other two. Of course, Nicole was too young to appeal. Emma’s illness hadn’t prevented her from attending to her duty toward her father and brother, but when her presence wasn’t required, she’d taken to her bed. She struck him as a pale reflection of Gwendolyn.
    Gwen, as her sisters called her, certainly possessed a lovely face and a hardy constitution. The curve of her backside wasn’t hard to look at, either. Aye, he’d have no problem with taking those lovely curves into his bed.
    She’d been upset over his ring when they’d parted last eve. He’d half expected her to take him to task over it when he’d come across her this morn.
    Perhaps she’d come to terms with his possession of the seal of the dragon, and thus his lordship of Camelen, for she’d not mentioned it. But then, he’d found her in the midst of a most unpleasant duty, and she’d been preoccupied.
    He hadn’t lied when admiring her courage, and admired it even more when he’d walked into the lord’s bedchamber and felt the emptiness. If the sparseness of the room had affected him, he could imagine how clearing it of her father’s belongings must have affected Gwendolyn.
    Still, she hadn’t appeared overly distraught. And that, too, he had to admire. ’Twas no wonder Hugh left her in charge of the household in his absence.
    Alberic rode into the village he’d been in briefly yesterday when putting Hugh and William to rest under the floor of the church at the far end of the village green.
    As in most villages, the huts were constructed of wattle and daub, the roofs thatched. Geese and chickens pecked about in the yards, which sported patches of newly overturned earth, ready for planting gardens once the danger of frost passed.
    Several women stood at the common well, buckets in hand, paying more attention to one another than the squealing children who chased around them.
    As the children became aware of his approach, their squeals faded and the women turned to stare. He acknowledged curtsies and bows with nods, progressing slowly so all could get a good look at both him and the ring.
    “Do you wish to stop, my lord?” Sedwick asked.
    “At the church.”
    “I believe Father Paul is at the castle.”
    “’Tis not the priest I wish to visit.”
    Long ago he’d learned how deeply a show of piety could influence the peasantry. Ranulf de Gernons, the earl of Chester, might be a harsh and self-serving man, but a visit to church earned him approval. Alberic meant to stop only long enough to light a