Winter Song by Roberta Gellis Read Free Book Online Page A

lands
there,” he said next. “He is also of sweet tongue and equable temper—usually.”
    The last word came out with a grin. Raymond had not been at
all equable of temper when opposition to his marriage to Alys had been
suggested. He had thrown defiance into the teeth of the Earl of Cornwall,
saying he would wed her over the nay-say of the whole world. William repressed
a sigh. Probably Raymond would succeed in gaining his father’s permission. He
had a gift for knowing when to threaten force and when to use persuasion. Most
likely Alys would be happy—but he would lose her. William jerked his mind away
from that.
    “Do you think Raymond could help?” Alys asked. “His own
property is small, and his father may not be overinclined to listen to his
suggestions in favor of the English just now.”
    “As to the latter, I cannot guess,” William replied. “However,
as a landholder in his own right, he would have a place in the councils of the
barons, and he might be thought to be speaking for his father. I am not sure,
but it is something. When starvation is the alternative, rusty wheat is better
than a haunch of venison that cannot be obtained.”

Chapter Three
     
    Thus, when Raymond arrived in England, he found himself more
warmly welcomed by the Earl of Cornwall and the king than by his prospective bride
and father-by-marriage. Raymond was not much surprised by the lack of
enthusiasm with which William received the news that Alphonse had agreed to his
son’s marriage. Naturally William would regret the fact that his one living
child should spend the rest of her life so far from him. There was a good
chance that after her marriage he would never see her again. Although Raymond
knew that William was very fond of him, he accepted that he would not be
overjoyed at losing Alys.
    Raymond could not, however, accept Alys’s initial reserve so
philosophically. She was the first person, except for the servants, he accosted
after rushing up from the bailey, and he had cried out, “I have you! My father
has agreed!” and swept her into his arms and into a passionate kiss.
    Her lips responded readily at first, but after far too short
an embrace, in Raymond’s opinion, she had pulled away, remarking
dispassionately, “You look like death warmed over. Come to the fire.”
    “Because I half killed myself getting there and back,”
Raymond said lightly, but there was a note of hurt in his voice.
    “There was no need for such haste as to keep you from
sleeping and eating,” Alys replied sharply. “Do you doubt my faith?”
    “No!” Raymond exclaimed. “What is wrong, Alys? I missed you.
I—”
    “In God’s name, do not say you count every day a year when
you are not beside me,” she snapped. Then, seeing the pained amazement in his
face, she sighed. “Poor Raymond, forgive me. You have had a sad welcome. I am
sorry. You are welcome, my love, truly. And I have missed you, also.”
    He sighed with relief, but continued to ask what was wrong, and
Alys laughed and confessed that her temper was soured by too much idleness and
pleasure, and too many love songs on the lute. That made Raymond laugh also,
and he said promptly that he understood completely why she had forbidden him to
say that each day away from her was like a year.
    “Only it is , Alys,” he finished softly. “No matter
how fast we rode or how long, it still seemed too slow, too far, until I could
hold you again.”
    “In return for that loverlike speech, at least I have
greeted you like a true ‘lady’—coldly and with blame,” she teased. “You would
not wish me to be a coarse, common clod and say I was glad to see you,” she
added with a twinkle in her eyes.
    “Oh, yes I would,” Raymond contradicted quickly. “The
coarser and commoner the better. If you really wish to please me, you will
descend to the very depths of vulgarity and give me another kiss.”
    “Fie! Fie! You are no true loving knight. Doubtless you even
have designs on my