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Stealing Heaven

Page 31

by Madeline Hunter


  “My lack of restraint can be excused. You bewitched me. I was in love.”

  “Oh, tosh. You were bored and randy and full of yourself. And I was ignorant enough to be dazzled that the young king favored me.”

  “Not so ignorant, it seemed to me.”

  “Since I was Welsh, you probably assumed I had ceased being ignorant years earlier. But I was a child. I met you in that garden expecting a kiss at most.”

  “I will admit that things went too far, but I did not force you.”

  She realized that it mattered to him. He really wanted her agreement on how it had been. He did not comprehend that the episode had become so insignificant to her that she did not care what he called it.

  “Do you seek absolution, my lord? Fine, it is yours.”

  “Not so much absolution as an indication of affection. I have often thought of you, and that moonlit garden.”

  It was an unfortunate turn in the conversation, but she had been expecting it. She had plenty of experience with men looking at her the wrong way, and this one had been looking that way since he walked through the door.

  “With all respect, sire, that night was a lifetime ago. It is time to forget it.”

  “I am not sure that I can. This marriage of yours has been eating at me since I heard of it. That old Scot was one thing, but Marcus—”

  “King you may be, but listen to me now. You have no right to this ridiculous jealousy. This marriage will stand, and with your blessing. You will not hold it against Marcus. If you slight him in any way, I will see that you have so much trouble with the Welsh that the Scots will be baking their bread in York before you can spare the men to fight them.”

  That took him aback, but he appeared more amused than angry. “You speak too boldly. Perhaps that was your appeal. Other women dare not chastise me thus.”

  “Then visit us whenever you need a scolding. You can come this summer, and honor us with your presence at our child’s baptism.”

  That surprised him even more. His gaze swept her, as if he sought the physical proof of her claim. “You are… ?”

  “Enough along to be sure.”

  He frowned. Nesta suspected it was not her sudden status as a mother that troubled him. The frown was that of a king finally comprehending political realities.

  No longer interested in the foolish girl he had once wooed, he pulled open the door. “Let us rejoin your husband.”

  “I will tell you that Arundal spoke with me,” Edward said, his tone and pose very severe. “I know that all turned out well in Wales, but his tale suggested some peculiar doings.”

  Marcus faced the accusation blandly. Nesta was by his side again, appearing far too smug. He looked forward to hearing what she had said in that other chamber to cause Edward the man to retreat so thoroughly, and for Edward the King to appear unsettled.

  “Anything but a field covered with bodies would be peculiar to Arundal,” Marcus said.

  Edward’s sharp gaze shifted from him to Nesta, and back again. “If both of you had not alluded today to the chance for more peculiar doings, I would be more contented. As it is, I cannot ignore that one of my barons has married the daughter of Llygad in what could be a dangerous alliance.”

  “There is no danger to you or England in this alliance,” Marcus said.

  Beside him, Nesta smiled vaguely.

  The King did not miss that. “I want your oath, Marcus, that the child she carries will be educated properly. That he will be England’s man, and that you will not permit this woman to divide his loyalties.”

  It took a few moments for Marcus to respond. He tried to appear calm as he turned to Nesta. Her smile was that of a cat who had just lapped at some milk.

  “Of course,” he said. He even managed to add a formal oath.

  Edward pierced Nesta with a suspicious glare. “You are to obey your husband in this, as in all things. Your father’s lands will be absorbed into Marcus’s. Llygad’s manor is not to become some shrine.”

  “Of course, my lord,” she said demurely.

  “If you have a son, he will take service with an English baron, in England, not Wales, so that he learns the proper loyalty.”

  “Certainly.”

  Her submissive agreement appeased whatever worries Edward had developed. The King’s expression cleared, and he smiled. “If matters of state permit it, I will come for the baptism this summer as you requested.”

  Marcus glanced to his wife. “We hope it can be so.”

  Edward dismissed them. Marcus managed to hold his tongue until they were away from the royal chambers.

  Outside in the yard, he slid his arm around her waist. “Nesta—”

  “Not here. Not within these walls.” She gave him a melting smile as a groom brought their horses to them. “On our way back to your sister’s house, there is someplace that I would like to visit.”

  The house was deserted, but one guard still manned the gate. He cast Nesta an accusing look, letting her know that he had not forgiven her for the purgative that she had fed him.

  All the same, he allowed them entry. They circled the house to the garden in back. Its high walls made it private and quiet and separate from the city noise.

  The trees were bare now, and no roses bloomed. It held a spare beauty, however. Tendrils of ivy grew everywhere, and boxwood lined the paths. The pool had not frozen, and the sky and clouds were reflected in its stillness.

  Marcus pulled Nesta to the bench by the wall, the bench where it had all started. He settled her on his lap much as he had that first night, but he did not overwhelm her with passion. Rather they nestled together in a warm embrace, enjoying the silence.

  “What did you say to the King?” Marcus asked.

  “I reminded him that you had served him well, and averted what might have been an inconvenient war.”

  “He acted as though you said more than that.”

  “Well, I might have suggested, in my annoyance, that he would be wise to keep you in his favor.”

  “You threatened our King?”

  “I think he was well threatened before he spoke with me. I may have been less subtle, but the message was the same as yours.”

  He laughed lightly, and kissed her cheek. The eyes gazing at her filled with warmth and love, and little sparks of excitement. “What else did you tell him? He spoke of a baptism.”

  “Oh, that. It just blurted out, to make sure that he understood just how united we are, and how we cannot be parted, and that I am completely yours.”

  He looked away to the pool. “It was a ruse, then.”

  Laying her palm against his face, she turned his gaze back to her. Being alone with him here, in this quiet place, was so perfect and peaceful. She loved the moments when they could be like this, completely together, whether in passion or just sitting in each other’s embrace.

  “It was no ruse. There will be a baptism, my love. Midsummer, I think. That is what Joan and Moira say.”

  His hard mouth softened beautifully. His expression transformed into one of heart-stopping happiness. The arms holding her tightened gently, protectively, possessively.

  “This morning I would have said it was impossible for me to love you more than I already did, Nesta. It seems that was not true.”

  He kissed her with the passion that they had first discovered in this garden, and which had created the child she bore.

  An impossible passion, that he had demanded be given life.

  A brief pleasure, that he had fought to convert to a permanent love.

  It fills my heart with sparkling light. The grace of heaven could not be more powerful. They were words from a dream, and they spoke in her as she lost herself in the sublime joining of their kiss. She loved him so much that her heart could not contain it, and it poured out to fill the garden.

  “I have sworn an oath to Edward that the child will be educated properly.” He did not move much as he said it, and their faces still touched.

  “All that we promised
will be done. I would have it no other way.”

  He smiled. “That is generous of you. Of course, with a bard in the household, and a daughter of Llygad as a mother, I wonder if it will turn out as the King thinks.”

  “Are you accusing me of plotting to thwart the King’s plan?”

  “Heaven forbid I should suspect you of such treason.”

  She caressed his lips, and then touched them with her own. “If it is a son, he will turn out much like his father, I expect. A man of his people.” She slid from his embrace and stood. “Now, we should return to your sister’s house. A feast awaits, and I have been ravenous of late.”

  He appeared reluctant to go. She thought she knew why.

  “Of course, we could always return here tonight,” she said.

  He embraced her with his arm as they strolled to the portal. “It will be very cold in this garden tonight.”

  “I do not feel the cold much.”

  “Then we will return. I confess that the notion of having you in one of the crown’s gardens has a reckless appeal.”

  “I thought that it might.”

  He stopped at the portal. Taking her face in his hands, he looked down at her. “I am not good with pretty words, Nesta. Telling you that I love you is easy, but it will never express what is in my heart. I am grateful that you came to this garden that night. I am honored that you gave all of yourself to me, after what transpired. Loving you is the best part of my life. Holding on to you became the most important thing to me after that night here.”

  For a man who was not good with pretty words, he could move her to tears with his simple honesty. Pressing his palm to her face, she turned her head to kiss it.

  “We will hold each other forever, Marcus. There will be only one song about Marcus of Anglesmore and Nesta verch Llygad, and it will be a magnificent, long love song.”

  * * *

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  England conquered Wales during the Middle Ages. The Normans, under William the Conqueror, took the eastern and southern regions in the twelfth century. William set up barons in these border areas, or “marches”, and gave them power that exceeded that of most other barons. This bred ambitions and a sense of autonomy among the Lords Marchers that would haunt the English crown for centuries. For good or ill, these barons played pivotal roles in the rebellions and politics of the medieval period.

  In the late thirteenth century, Edward I completed the conquest of Wales. For the next century there were no large-scale rebellions, although minor insurrections periodically occurred. That the Welsh were hardly pacified was proven in 1400. That year marked the beginning of the great rebellion of Owain Glyn Dwr, which would be the final revolt of the Welsh against English rule.

  As Rhys predicts in this novel, Welsh streamed across England to join Owain’s revolt, abandoning their positions in English manors, courts and universities to do so.

  For simplicity, I have used the English terms Wales and the Welsh throughout the novel. Nesta would not have referred to her land or her people that way, however. She would have called her homeland Cymru.

  * * *

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Madeline Hunter has worked as a grocery clerk, office employee, art dealer, and freelance writer. She holds a Ph.D. in art history, which she currently teaches at an eastern university. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, her two teenage sons, a chubby, adorable mutt, and a black cat with a major attitude. She can be contacted through her web site, www.MadelineHunter.com, where readers can also find more information regarding the historical events and characters used in this novel.

  Stealing Heaven

  III of 14th-Century London

  Madeline Hunter

  (2008)

  * * *

  14th-century London

  1. By Possession (2000)

  2. By Design (2000)

  3. Stealing Heaven (2002)

  4. By Arrangement (2000)

  5. The Protector (2001)

  6. Lord of a Thousand Nights (2002)

  Nationally bestselling author Madeline Hunter has thrilled her legions of fans with sensuous novels of intrigue, adventure, and romance. Now she weaves a spectacular tale of an English knight, a Welsh rebel, and a relationship that would defy their world and everything they believed possible between a man and a woman...Stealing Heaven

  Marcus of Anglesmore was not at all happy about being betrothed by the king to a woman he’d never laid eyes on. So when the brooding English knight accidentally came across her in a moonlit garden, he was both surprised--and delighted. Intelligent, charming, and beautiful, she was the most captivating woman he’d ever met. But the magic of that enchanted moment is soon shattered by cold reality: Nesta is not the woman he is to marry, but her sister. Of all the women Marcus might desire, none could be more dangerous than the wild and tantalizing Welsh witch with secret ties to both rebellion and king. For Nesta, no one could jeopardize her plans more than a man who would know the secrets of both her heart...and her body. Yet the course of their lives--and the destinies of their two nations--will be forever altered as they defy everything to surrender to the most daring seduction of all....

  Nationally bestselling author Madeline Hunter has thrilled her legions of fans with sensuous novels of intrigue, adventure, and romance. Now she weaves a spectacular tale of an English knight, a Welsh rebel, and a relationship that would defy their world and everything they believed possible between a man and a woman...

  **Stealing Heaven

  Marcus of Anglesmore was not at all happy about being betrothed by the king to a woman he’d never laid eyes on. So when the brooding English knight accidentally came across her in a moonlit garden, he was both surprised--and delighted. Intelligent, charming, and beautiful, she was the most captivating woman he’d ever met. But the magic of that enchanted moment is soon shattered by cold reality: Nesta is not the woman he is to marry, but her sister. Of all the women Marcus might desire, none could be more dangerous than the wild and tantalizing Welsh witch with secret ties to both rebellion and king. For Nesta, no one could jeopardize her plans more than a man who would know the secrets of both her heart...and her body. Yet the course of their lives--and the destinies of their two nations--will be forever altered as they defy everything to surrender to the most daring seduction of all....

 

 

 


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