Lord Of Danger by Stuart, Anne (free ebook reader for android txt) 📗

Claire,” she said. “I was right. Lady Hedwiga has finally chosen to welcome us to Summersedge Keep. There is nothing to fear, is there, Madlen?” She turned to the serving woman. “Lady Hedwiga is a good woman who spends her life on prayer. She could hardly wish us ill.”

Madlen shrugged her thick shoulders. “As to that, I’m sure she’s a holy woman, though I can’t say why she wants to see the two of you. She’s never spent much time on anything but her religion.”

Claire made a face. “Maybe she found out what Richard tried to do and she wants him to apologize.”

“I doubt it. More likely she wants to berate you for leading him on,” Alys said wryly as she presented her back to her sister for unlacing.

“Wretch,” Claire muttered, under her breath. “You’re probably right But then, why would you be summoned as well? In such an unsuitable dress?”

Alys slipped her ugly gown off, casting a wistful glance at the glorious swathe of rose and gold. “It will probably look hideous on me,” she said warily.

“If it’s as bad as you think you can give it to me,” Claire said with her usual artless generosity, helping her sister into the heavy folds.

Alys went to stand in front of the wavery reflection of the mirror. Her hair was a tangle down her back, in sore need of replaiting, and the unlaced gown drooped loosely around her. But Alys didn’t need Claire’s indrawn breath or Madlen’s sigh to know the truth.

“You’re not getting this gown, Claire,” she said flatly. “Lace me up.”

Claire did so with swift competence, moving out of the way as Madlen approached with a brush. “No plaits today, my lady,” she said in a voice that brooked no disagreement. “You have very pretty hair when you don’t hide it away. No wimple or veil either—just a ribband around your hair.”

“I prefer to have my hair covered.” Alys’s voice was uncertain.

“Madlen’s right,” Claire said. “If you’re going to be a beauty you might as well go all the way. She’s right - your hair is lovely and I never realized it It has glorious streaks of gold and brown and honey amber. Why in the world do you always hide it away?”

Alys didn’t bother to explain. She knew perfectly well that no matter how beautiful her dress, how pretty she was, she would always pale next to her glorious sister.

And since she spent her life in her sister’s company, false vanity seemed an absolute waste of time and energy.

But at that moment, looking at her reflection in the glass, she was ready to kill before she gave up that dress. She wanted Simon of Navarre to see her in it. She wanted him to weep at what he’d thrown away.

Except that he hadn’t thrown her away. He’d insulted her, dismissed her, but as long as he wanted her, fate and her brother decreed that he would have her.

And as long as he wanted her, she was willing to pay the price. As long as she could divine a way to make him suffer regret.

She didn’t know if he was a man who felt regret. He didn’t seem as if he would, but she had a strong suspicion that he was very different from the mysterious creature he appeared to be. She already knew his lame hand was only a sham. His supposed unconcern for the people of Summersedge Keep was belied by his dung-free remedies.

She suspected he had a strong reason for speaking those cruel words last night, but she couldn’t even begin to imagine what that reason could be. She would be a fool and a half to suspect him of any noble motives, and she had never been a fool. He had sought to demoralize her and drive her away, at least temporarily. She could only wonder why.

Lady Hedwiga was not, at first glance, that intimidating a woman. She was ordinary looking, a good ten years older than her husband, with a pinched mouth, dark, disapproving eyes, and thin, claw-like fingers that fondled a large crucifix attached to her girdle. Alys had spent her life among the professionally religious, from merry Sister Agnes to the dour Reverend Mother Dominica, but never had she seen someone as coldly removed from the warmth of everyday life as her half-brother’s wife.

“My lady,” Alys greeted her with determined friendliness as she advanced into the room. Claire held back, and Alys gave her a surreptitious shove in the small of her back, propelling her forward. “How joyous it is to find a new sister…”

She’d been planning to plant a respectful kiss on the woman’s pale, papery cheek, but Hedwiga held up a restraining hand.

“We are all sisters in Christ,” she said, with an expression that suggested she found that fact very ill-managed of Him.

Alys halted, and Claire stumbled into her. “Indeed,” Alys said brightly, still making an effort. “Your generosity in taking us into your home has touched us both.”

“It is duty, no more, no less,” Hedwiga intoned. “I have no time to waste on social pleasantries. You are here at my husband’s request” She made the word “husband” sound like a curse, which, in Richard de Lancie’s case, it was.

“How may we serve you?” Alys asked politely.

Lady Hedwiga sat in her throne-like chair, staring with raw dislike at the two young women. “I’m to instruct you in your marital duties,” she announced abruptly. “My husband has deemed it time for you to know what’s expected of you, and he has requested that I inform you. Sit down.”

Ordered was more like, though Alys would have thought that Hedwiga didn’t obey orders from anyone, even her bullying husband. She cast a furtive glance at her sister, but Claire was looking oddly pale as she sank gracefully down on the narrow bench at Lady Hedwiga’s feet.

Alys sat as well, careful not to crumple the glorious folds of rich rose material, clasping her small, capable hands in her lap as she tried to still