The Lily and the Sword (Medieval 1)

Chapter 12

The trestle tables were being cleared, but whether the feast was over or they were simply waiting on more courses, Lily wasn’t sure. The need to relieve herself was an excuse to slip out of the hall. She was glad of a moment alone, for the strain had been considerable. And she had almost made a fool of herself, swaying toward Radulf like a besotted maid, trembling with the need to have his arms about her.

Such things could not be. Real life was not a play. Radulf had stated his reasons for marrying her, and because she was his wife there would always be parts of her life which were completely in his power. She must never allow him to discover he heated her blood to such an extent that she was his willing captive. No, that would never do.

When Lily returned to the hall, she paused a moment in the doorway, watching the guests. Dress, both male and female, varied from the elaborate to the shabby. Fashions did not change much from year to year, but there were subtle differences. London styles, Lily supposed.

When someone tapped her arm she turned with a start, and found herself facing the same golden-eyed woman she remembered from yesterday’s audience with King William.

“Lady Wilfreda.” The woman’s voice was alluring, her clothing exquisite. She wore a wine-colored gown glittering with gold thread and tiny pearls. Upon her dark, curling hair sat a circlet of gold studded with rubies. Her beauty transcended the tiny lines about her eyes and mouth, the inevitable signs of her age.

“You do not know me?” she asked, disappointment in the lift of her dark brows. “I am Lady Anna Kenton. I sent your bridal gown.”

Lily gasped, flushing with embarrassment. “Lady Anna, I did not know…I am most grateful for your kindness. The gown is beautiful. I had brought little with me from…from home, and such a gift was most welcome.”

Anna smiled, satisfied with her reply. “I knew that Radulf would not think of your wardrobe, or lack of. He is never interested in women’s affairs.”

There was something behind the smile, something unpleasant. As though Anna were laughing at Lily in the guise of kindness. Surprised, she took a step back.

“You know Lord Radulf, Lady Kenton?”

Anna laughed softly. “Oh yes. I know him. I know him well. Has he not spoken of me? Ah well”—with a shrug—“there are some things which cannot be shared with outsiders. I hold a part of him, my dear, that you will never have, no matter how you strive to win it. Do you know what that is?”

Lily shook her head, bemused.

Anna’s golden eyes lit up. “It is his heart, lady.”

A bolt of jealousy drove through Lily, filling her instantly with suspicion and envy and all manner of emotions she had never felt before. Who was t

his woman, and what did she mean by saying such things? How could she make such a claim, and what was she to Radulf?

But there was no time to ask the questions blistering her tongue. The next moment she sensed a familiar warmth at her back, and then Lady Anna’s gaze had lifted to someone above and behind her.

“Radulf,” Lady Anna murmured, her mouth curling up in a smile. “I have been telling your wife how well I know you. No one knows you as well as I do, or as…thoroughly.”

Radulf gripped Lily’s arm so roughly she flinched, beginning to protest. Only to stop abruptly after one glance at his face.

His sensual mouth was white and pinched at the corners, his eyes black as pits of tar. Lily had never seen him look so, not even when he had caught her trying to escape with Hew.

“Come,” he said in a voice that had no strength. “We will take our leave of the king.”

“Radulf…?” she began in instinctive protest.

Anna laughed, more softly now, taunting and triumphant. “Yes, run away,” she mocked. “But you know you will never outrun the memories, Radulf. And those memories can be more than cold, dead things. We can bring them back to life. I have been thinking of that ever since you left me.”

“‘I left you’?” he repeated blankly, as if he couldn’t comprehend her meaning.

Lily felt sick. This was not Radulf! When had he ever been so drained, so drawn? Whatever Lady Anna had been to him, the very sight of her was leaching out his will to live.

“What think you of your new wife’s gown, Radulf?” the woman went on, still smiling. “’Tis mine. I have been a part of your marriage, you see. I have stood between you and her”—with a dismissive wave at Lily. “I knew you would not notice the dress, would not question it. You never did notice the outer coverings, always so eager to get to what lay underneath.”

Radulf took a shaky breath. “You drew me into your chamber to help with your gown,” he said, his voice not his own. “And sometimes you wore no gown.”

“I wanted you, Radulf, even then. I want you still. There is no one else for me.”

With what seemed a tremendous effort, Radulf turned and walked away. Lily, after one more glance at that lovely smiling face, turned and followed. He was taking such big strides she had to run to catch up to him. Lily glanced over her shoulder, but the other woman was soon swallowed up in the crowd.

“Radulf, what—”