The First Princess of Wales by Karen Harper Read Free Book Online

and turned back to him, struck nearly mute again by the crystalline blue of his eyes, lighter than a pond on a clear day, more like those precious forget-me-nots she had picked for Mother when they had gone away.
    “Aye. You could tell from my traveling garb and that I came down from the courtyard above?”
    “No—well, aye. That, too. I meant not to seem angry but I thought I was alone here.”
    “You are angry, my lord, angry at more than that poor chopped-up quintain on this rainy day, I wager. Must you take it all out on this hot, lathered horse and that dented shield?”
    He bit his lower lip looking suddenly like a scolded boy, and his eyes seemed to ice over, glinting blue for one moment. “Aye,
demoiselle.
’Tis this damn, bloody broken wrist on my sword arm. I lose my temper at myself because I cannot handle the sword and lance so well with my left.”
    “But no one could do that, sir.”
    “By the rood, I shall! I shall do it if I will it so!”
    She faced him faintly amazed at the outburst and intrigued by the vein that throbbed at the base of his bronze throat now so close to her.
    “I see, my lord. I—I too have had things I have wanted every whit as badly as that.”
    His mouth and brow softened. “Have you,
chérie
? Aye, I wager you have—and shall. You must go back now, and we shall meet again without all this mud and anger,
oui
?”
    His intimate tone, his use of gentle French, his clear eyes seemed to mesmerize her. She was close enough to him to see each separate gold eyelash that fringed the piercing eyes, and she went quite weak from her all-day ride on Sable’s bouncing saddle.
    “
Oui, certainement.
If you do not mind my asking, my lord, do you know the king and his family very well? I am to be Queen Philippa’s ward as—as soon as my brother comes back to the Curfew Tower to fetch me.”
    “The queen? Fine. She will like you immediately, if you do not let her hear that quick tongue of yours.”
    “Oh—no, I would not to the queen, of course. If you had not been so rude—”
    “And the king,
charmante,
will like you very, very much also.”
    “You really think so? I mean to prosper here.”
    “I promise you, sweet lady, you will prosper famously.” He motioned her up the narrow steps which it seemed she had descended ages ago—before she had met him.
    She hesitated two stairs up where she was at eye level with him. The impact of his nearness nearly overwhelmed her. Desperate not to show her feelings, she said, “And shall we part without introduction, sir? What if we do not even recognize each other without all this mud and damp hair and rain-drenched garments?”
    He gave a low, short laugh deep in his throat and his eyes skimmed her face before returning to her eyes. How at ease he seemed to her again, how sure and worldly-wise. Suddenly she could not bear to let him go though he made her feel so very little even eye to eye like this, and she had never liked that helpless feeling before now.
    “Fear not—ever—my lady. Just flash those deep violet eyes and wish for your Sir Mud and Mire, and he shall be there.”
    With his armored arm, he dared to touch her hip through her full skirts to send her up the steps. She went as gracefully as she could without deigning to look back. She heard the clink of metal and the stomp and snort of his great beast as he mounted from the steps. At the wooden door when she dared to cast a glimpse back, he had spun the quintain crazily and trotted off down the narrow enclosure. Dreamy-eyed, she pulled open the door to the courtyard and nearly hit the furious, red-faced Edmund who had just put his hand to the metal latch to seek her from the other side.

    I t was late morning on the morrow when Joan finally met one of the royal Plantagenets. Rested, bathed, and garbed in a gold-linked girdle and a willow green kirtle of the finest, shiny sendal which whispered when she walked, Joan followed her new guardian, the Lady Euphemia de Heselaston, a