Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

  ‘I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.’

  ‘But there’s going to be dancing,’ she pleaded. ‘Can’t we just stay for that?’

  ‘What I have planned is better. Trust me, you’ll be glad.’

  Cautiously, she threw a quick look around and then made up her mind, hurrying out of the hall alongside him and into the bustling town. The atmosphere in the streets was still buoyant and she let herself get swept up in the happy mood, skipping ahead a few steps and then darting down a narrow alleyway away from prying eyes.

  ‘Are you trying to escape from me?’ Henry was laughing by the time he caught up with her.

  ‘I just thought we could find somewhere more private.’ She leaned back against the timbered wall of a house and gave him a coy look. ‘I have a reputation to uphold. The court still thinks I’m a lady of virtue.’

  ‘As you are, most of the time.’ He moved closer, his voice husky. ‘You have no idea how hard it is to see you every day and not be able to touch you.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  She gasped with pleasure as their lips met and clung, the two cups of wine she’d drunk at the wedding feast making her feel heady and reckless. Slowly, she slid her arms around his waist, pulling him hard against the cradle of her hips until she could feel his arousal, until there was no space at all between their two bodies.

  ‘Mathilde...’ He groaned and lifted her higher against the wall.

  ‘I miss you every day, too,’ she murmured the words against his ear. ‘I wish...’

  ‘What?’ He stopped kissing her neck for a moment to look into her face. ‘What do you wish?’

  ‘What you said a few weeks ago, about us leaving and being together.’

  ‘Then we ca—’

  ‘Soon,’ she spoke over him. ‘I’m certain all of this will be over soon. Once the treaty with the Scots is concluded then there’ll be peace and the Queen can begin handing power over to her son. There’ll be no reason for her not to.’

  ‘Except power itself.’ He rested his forehead against hers briefly and then stepped back, readjusting his tunic. ‘We can’t do this here.’

  ‘I know.’ She sucked in a breath unsteadily. He was right. Even if her words hadn’t already destroyed the mood, they were in an alleyway in broad daylight and it was far too wanton, no matter how badly she wanted him.

  ‘Come on. Before I forget what I have planned.’ He pressed one last kiss to her cheek before taking her hand and drawing her back towards the main street.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, trying to distract herself from the hot flush still coursing through her body. If only there was somewhere they could go to be alone, but the whole city seemed full to bursting.

  ‘You’ll see.’ He winked, refusing to say anything else as they walked purposefully away from the centre of the city towards a small but respectable-looking tavern beside the river. According to the sign above the entrance, it was called the Green Dragon, although the reason they’d come was still a mystery.

  ‘We can stay until nightfall. I already arranged it with Katharine. She even convinced the Queen that you deserved some time to enjoy the celebrations.’ Henry spoke over his shoulder as he led her into a busy courtyard where several groups of men and a few women were clustered around, drinking ale and toasting the royal marriage.

  ‘That sounds very cunning, but why would we st—’ She stopped abruptly, dropping Henry’s hand in surprise as she looked up at the balcony and caught sight of her three brothers.

  ‘Aland! Laurent! Dicun!’ She gathered up her skirts, racing across the courtyard at the same moment as they came rushing down the steps and flinging herself against each of them in turn.

  ‘Mathilde!’ There was a chorus of exclamations and laughter as they embraced her back.

  ‘Is it really you?’ She pulled away after a few moments, both overjoyed and bewildered by their presence in York. It had been three years since she’d last seen them and they’d all grown so much. They weren’t boys any longer, but young men, albeit just as loud and boisterous as ever. ‘What are you doing here? How did you know?’

  They all looked towards Henry, grinning at some shared secret.

  He shrugged. ‘Mortimer had no need of me for a couple of days so I took a ride towards Scarborough.’

  ‘He didn’t tell us who he was at first, only that he’d met you in France and that you were in good health,’ Laurent interjected. ‘Then we talked and he suggested we come and meet you today.’

  ‘You went to Rudstone?’ Mathilde gaped at Henry, so touched by the gesture that she had to blink away happy tears. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t want to raise your hopes in case my plan didn’t work.’ He looked faintly embarrassed. ‘Fortunately, they were all eager to see their big sister again.’

  ‘And so we are.’ Laurent put an arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s been too long.’

  ‘It has.’ She felt as if her face might burst from smiling. ‘But what about Father? Is he here, too?’

  ‘Ah...no.’ Aland exchanged an eloquent glance with Henry. ‘The truth is, we didn’t tell him we were coming.’

  ‘We told him that we were going to visit Hawise,’ Dicun added gleefully, then sobered at a pointed look from the others. ‘Sorry, but you know how he feels about the old King. We knew if we mentioned you...’

  ‘Then he wouldn’t have let you come,’ she concluded for him. ‘He really is angry with me for serving the Queen, then? I was afraid of that.’

  ‘Ye-es,’ Aland agreed finally. ‘And because you ignored all his messages.’

  ‘What messages?’

  ‘The ones telling you to come home. He actually paid for a messenger to go to Paris and he still sends word with anyone travelling to London. He must have sent at least a dozen.’

  ‘Oh...’ She frowned. She could understand messages to Paris going astray, but to London...? One or two, perhaps, but so many seemed unlikely.

  ‘Why didn’t you come home?’ Aland looked at her curiously.

  She shook her head, at a loss for how to answer. Even if she had received the messages, she couldn’t honestly claim they would have made any difference, but the fact that she hadn’t received them was unsettling. Had they been kept from her? There was only one person she could think of who could have done such a thing... She cast a surreptitious glance at Henry and saw that he thought so, too.

  ‘It wasn’t my wish to defy Father,’ she answered finally. ‘But the Queen is a good mistress. She’s been very kind to me, and the old King—’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Laurent interrupted. ‘We all know how he raised taxes and broke his word. Father’s the only one who still refuses to listen. He’s angry with everyone these days.’ He patted her arm sympathetically. ‘You’re better off where you are.’

  ‘There’s somebody else here to see you.’ Dicun grinned, dispelling the newly sombre mood.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Who do you think? We went to tell her what we were up to and she insisted on coming, too.’

  ‘Hawise?’ Mathilde spun around eagerly. ‘Where?’

  ‘Inside.’ Aland grinned. ‘I suppose we’ll catch up with you in another few hours, then?’

  ‘If you’re lucky.’ Mathilde jabbed him in the ribs and then ducked her head under the low-beamed doorway of the tavern, letting out a small scream of excitement at the sight of her elder sister. She wasn’t sure that she could bear any more happiness. Hawise was sitting in one corner of the room with her husband, John, on one side, a toddler on the other and a small, placid-looking baby in her lap.

  ‘Mathilde!’ Hawise handed the baby to her husband and leapt up, her round face beaming. ‘Look at you! You’re such a fine court lady.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Mathilde squeezed her tightly, laughing at the idea. She knew that she fitted in a
t court more these days, but a ‘fine court lady’ she would never be. ‘I’m just the same underneath.’

  ‘I know you are.’ Hawise grabbed hold of her arms. ‘Now come and meet your nephew and niece.’

  ‘My what?’ Mathilde allowed her sister to pull her across the room. ‘I had no idea you were even a mother.’

  ‘You didn’t receive my messages?’ Hawise gave her husband a pointed look. ‘You see, I told you she wouldn’t have forgotten us.’

  John smiled at his wife and Mathilde felt foolish all of a sudden. She’d been self-pitying, assuming that her family had forgotten about her while they’d been thinking the same thing. She ought to have known that they wouldn’t, but it still didn’t make any sense. Why would the Queen have withheld messages from her sister, too?

  ‘Hello there.’ She pushed the question aside to think about later, crouching on her haunches in front of the toddler.

  ‘This is my son, Warin.’ Hawise smiled. ‘I discovered I was with child just after you left home. Say hello, Warin.’

  ‘Hello.’ The boy withdrew his thumb from his mouth long enough to answer.

  ‘And this is my daughter.’ Hawise passed the baby over for inspection.

  ‘Well, aren’t you lovely?’ Mathilde cradled the child in her arms, running a finger lovingly over the tiny cheek. ‘I’m Mathilde.’

  ‘So is she.’

  ‘You named her after me?’

  ‘Of course.’ The fond look in her sister’s eyes made her own swim with tears. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  * * *

  It was the happiest afternoon she’d spent in a long time, Mathilde thought, sitting in the tavern, surrounded by her four siblings. There was so much news to catch up on, so much to explain and so many stories to tell, albeit not all of them good. She learned that her father was well, but that his sight was failing and he was growing increasingly intractable. It made the hope of a reconciliation recede even further away.

  ‘Is it true what they say about the Queen?’ Laurent asked. ‘That her hair is like spun gold?’

  ‘She’s very beautiful.’ For once, Mathilde felt uncomfortable talking about Isabella, the thought of her missing letters still playing on her mind.

  ‘Aland wouldn’t think so.’ Laurent smirked, jerking his head towards another table where their brother was sharing a jug of ale with Henry. ‘He thinks Elizabeth Rolfe is the most beautiful woman in the world.’

  ‘Really?’ Mathilde lifted her eyebrows to Hawise. ‘Is Aland thinking of marriage?’

  ‘Yes. It’s a good match and he’s right, Elizabeth is very pretty, even if she’s a little too aware of the fact.’ Hawise looked her up and down. ‘But you look lovely, too, even more than when you left.’ She gave her a subtle nudge in the ribs. ‘Your friend thinks so as well. I can tell by the way he looks at you.’

  ‘Oh.’ She felt her cheeks darken. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Definitely. Mathilde...you know I would never accuse you of anything, but who is he to you?’

  ‘Well...’ She lowered her voice. ‘The truth is, he’s not just my friend. He’s also my husband.’

  ‘You’re married?’ Hawise looked startled.

  ‘Yes, but it’s a secret. I knew that Father would never give his permission and we had no time to ask for the Queen’s, but soon, when things are more settled, we’ll be able to do things properly.’ She gulped at the look on her sister’s face. ‘Do you think it was wrong of me?’

  ‘No-o, not necessarily. It just seems strange, that’s all.’

  ‘I know, but things have been difficult at court recently and Henry wanted to protect me.’

  ‘What about a dowry?’

  ‘He took me without one.’

  ‘Well then, he has good judgement.’ Hawise seemed placated. ‘He looks like the kind of man who relies on his own wits, not his wife’s fortune. I’m happy for you.’

  Mathilde smiled with relief. She was happy for herself. Henry had stayed at a discreet distance while she’d been catching up with her family, as if he didn’t want to intrude, although she’d seen him laughing and talking with Laurent and Dicun, too. The sight had convinced her of something she’d already suspected: that she was truly, hopelessly, in love with him.

  ‘Forgive me.’ Henry approached the table at that moment, his expression regretful. ‘But it’s almost time for curfew.’

  ‘Already?’ Mathilde felt her spirits sink. She didn’t want this time with her family to end so soon. Not for another week at least.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘It’s been so good to see you.’ Hawise’s voice sounded tight as Mathilde embraced her one last time.

  ‘It has.’ She resisted her own urge to cry. ‘I have no idea when I’ll see you again.’

  ‘We’ll find a way. In the meantime tell your friend to take care of you.’

  ‘I don’t have to. I already know he will.’

  ‘Thank you for this.’ Aland shook Henry’s hand as they parted. ‘You have our gratitude.’

  * * *

  It was darker than Mathilde had expected when they finally emerged from the tavern, hurrying through the streets to avoid being caught out after curfew.

  ‘Thank you again,’ she said to Henry when they reached the hall where the Queen was staying. ‘Truly. This has been one of the best afternoons of my life.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ He smiled. ‘I thought it was important to meet my wife’s family.’

  ‘Not all of them. It’s as I feared with my father. He really is angry with me for not coming home.’

  ‘I heard. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Aland says that he sent messages, but they never arrived. Do you think...?’ She hesitated, wondering whether or not to go on, but needing to know his opinion. ‘Is it possible the Queen kept them from me?’

  ‘Who else?’

  ‘Why would she do such a thing?’

  ‘You said that she was afraid of people leaving her. Maybe this was her way of making sure you didn’t.’

  ‘But that sounds so underhand...’ It didn’t make sense either. She’d given the Queen her promise. Surely that ought to have been enough?

  ‘Yes, it does.’

  She pressed her lips together, hearing the unspoken accusation as clearly as if he’d shouted it aloud, but still refusing to believe it. She couldn’t believe it. The Queen wasn’t underhand. If she’d withheld her messages, then it would have been for a good reason, because she’d thought they might upset her. And maybe Hawise’s had simply gone astray. No, she wouldn’t condemn or mistrust her mistress without proof.

  She shook her head, pushing her suspicions aside and wrapping her arms around Henry’s neck. ‘Let’s not talk about it now. I don’t want to spoil today. It’s been so wonderful.’

  ‘It has.’ He placed a hand on either side of her waist, though there was something subdued about him. ‘Although I’m afraid it might be our last together for a while.’

  ‘What do you mean? You’re coming to Scotland with Mortimer, aren’t you?’

  ‘Actually, no. You, Isabella and Mortimer are going to Scotland. I’m not.’

  ‘Oh.’ She loosened her hold. His whole manner seemed different suddenly, his face harder than she’d ever seen it before. ‘Are you going with the King into Oxfordshire?’

  ‘No. He’s going there to spend time with his new bride. Unlike some of us.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Mortimer has a different task for me. He suspects that Lancaster has been plotting against him and he wants me to find evidence.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ she gasped. ‘Do you think it’s true?’

  ‘I doubt it, not that Mortimer will ever accept that.’ He looked around quickly. ‘It’s one thing to expect me to spy on a corrupt King, another to spy on a man who’s simply a rival. As far as I know, Lancaster’s guilty of nothing more than
being another advisor to the King. Unfortunately for him, Mortimer doesn’t like other advisors.’

  ‘So you think Mortimer’s just looking for a reason to oust him?’ She clamped her brows together. ‘But if that were the case, why did he let him have the position in the first place?’

  ‘Because it would have been dangerous not to at the time, but that was a year ago. Now Mortimer and the Queen have more power between them than anyone else in the kingdom. More than the actual King. Too much.’ His gaze met hers and darkened. ‘You said that you promised to stay with Isabella until all this was over, but what if it’s not over in the way you hope? What if she doesn’t do the right thing and hand power to her son?’

  ‘She will. I know she will. Henry, I—’

  ‘In the meantime, I’m back to being a spy again. I’ve no choice. Because you won’t leave her, will you?’

  ‘Not yet.’ She lowered her gaze before the accusation in his. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.’

  ‘Say goodnight.’ He took a step backwards, slipping away from her. ‘Goodnight, Mathilde.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Oxfordshire

  —summer 1328

  He shouldn’t be here, Henry told himself, glancing surreptitiously around the courtyard. If anyone asked, he could think of at least a dozen reasons to explain his presence, but it was still dangerous to risk being seen so far from where he ought to be. If Mortimer found out... He ground his teeth at the thought. There was no if about it. Mortimer was bound to find out eventually. His spies were everywhere. He of all people ought to know that, but he’d take his chances and deal with the inevitable when it happened. If there was one thing he’d become good at over the past few years, it was lying with a straight face.

  He looked up at the manor where the King was spending the first few months of his marriage and felt a pang of jealousy, thinking of the home he had hoped—still hoped—to share with Mathilde. He’d gone to visit the manor house a few weeks before and been pleasantly surprised. The building itself had been modest, but was well built and well kept, with a sunny courtyard and a small enclosed herb garden that opened up into rolling barley fields and woodlands of oak and birch. The aged steward had taken him all over the estate, giving him a tantalising glimpse of a future that seemed both within touching distance and yet a thousand miles away. He’d been sorely tempted to stay, to put down his bag and send word to Mortimer that he was leaving his service for good, but he hadn’t been able to go through with it, knowing he would have gone mad, waiting and hoping for Mathilde to join him, wondering if she was safe with Isabella. Besides, it was a shared dream. If he couldn’t live there with her, then he wouldn’t live there at all.