The Rebel Princess by Judith Koll Healey Read Free Book Online Page B

for? But he was already off and I was left frowning. Then I thought, with some humor, that my brother was only instructing me to do what I had planned already. He had no idea how interested I was in our monastic guests.
    I paused, with my hand on the balustrade, and looked out over the stone to the courtyard below. Suddenly, the import of this event, the arrival of my beloved William and my son Francis, came home to me. At Christmastide William had agreed that I could at last inform Francis of his lineage: that he was my own son, and that his father had been the great Henry, King of England. The first Plantagenet king. William had insisted I hold off the telling because of the unstable political situation, but promised the time would be right when next he came. Then Francis would know the entire story and we would be mother and son to all at last.
    The shouts of welcome in the courtyard below grew more raucous as the first horsemen rode through the open gates. Suddenly my feet grew wings and I could feel my heart lightening, despite the somber conversations with my brother and Joanna’s cryptic note. William, home at last! And Francis with him.

.4.
    P ARIS
Chambers of the Princesse Alaïs
    I arrived breathless at my chambers to find my maids gone, lured by the excitement in the courtyard. Fortunately they had heated the water for my bath in the large wooden tub near the fire. Glad was I to have trained them always to help me bathe before any public court appearance. I slipped into the still-warm water with gratitude.
    The softness of my own apartments welcomed me. Here the tapestries were of animals and forests, but with references to peace and tranquility, not the hunting motifs my brother adored. The quiet blues and greens of the Toulouse tapestry-makers were soothing as I settled in the bath and contemplated the birds and flowers in the wall hanging before me. I could hear the fire crackling in the hearth as I laid my head on the cushion at the rim of the wooden tub, grateful for the moment of warmth and serenity. My irritation that William had not cometo me for these long months was receding. I remembered only that I loved him once, and loved him still.
    I was sinking into a reverie of William and me lying together in a sun-washed grain field outside of Poitiers when I heard a commotion in the hallway. Alarmed, since my wing of the castle was out of the way of common traffic, I reached for the robe that had carelessly been flung over a stool near the bath. Before I could do more, the door burst inward and William himself stood framed in the opening.
    “Woman, where do you dally?” came the bellow of an army captain. “Is this the welcome I get after being away for three entire seasons?”
    “William!” I shrieked. “The door!” Several curious male servants crowded behind him, but they quickly fell back just before he kicked the heavy oak shut with his heel. “Have you brought Francis back to me?” I called out as he came toward me.
    “You know I have, love. I made that promise.”
    I shot from the water without another thought and threw myself into his arms, whereupon he shouted with feigned annoyance, “Wife, you are soaking wet and stark naked. Is that the proper way to greet a dusty, tired, ravenous knight, who has been away chasing dragons for months?” He swept me up and carried me to the bed, providing his own laughing answer. “Yes, it is the proper way, and you, as only you would, knew that truth.” Tossing me on the bed, he stripped off his own doublet and hose with expert speed. Soon he was on me, and dust and water, fatigue and desire, mingled as we had our fill of one another like wild animals caged too long. All my choler against him for his long absence disappeared in the magic of his presence and his touch.
    Afterward we lay facing each other, covered against the chilling evening air. I traced the deep lines that ran down each side of his face, from inner eye to the edges of his smile,