14 The Shadow Queen by Anne O'Brien

Author:Anne O'Brien
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises, Australia Pty Ltd
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Spring 1361: Castle Donington

I was engaged in an exchange of views with my steward after an investigation of our storeroom, depleted in basic supplies over the winter, principally because our household had spent so little time there at Castle Donington. I was not pleased with the situation, nor with my negligent steward.

‘How can we be so lacking in ale? Why is there, as far as I can see, only one cured ham in the cellar? There should be half a dozen by your records.’

‘I will look into it my lady.’

‘And so shall I! And then I will invite you to accompany me to the lower cellar where I hope that I do not discover…’

Memories flooded back, with all the agony of a sword thrust, of Thomas in the cellar at Bisham when I had hunted him down, unfastening the silk band, acknowledging our love. So painful that I turned away from the steward, walking to the door to draw in breaths of air as if that would dispel that sudden vision.

It was there that my chamberlain discovered me.

‘Visitors, my lady. A sizeable escort. Can’t yet make out their device.’

Relieved to abandon the sudden, shocking, smack of sorrow, with a final lingering glance to my steward to remind him that I would not forget our task, I climbed to the wall walk to look out towards the east where the sun was struggling to break through heavy cloud. I was expecting no one. Irritated, I realised that I was dressed to receive no one, nor was I of an inclination. My melancholy had not lifted. I was tempted to keep my gates closed, but Philippa’s advice remained a constant burr against my skin. To repulse visitors was not what a generous and bountiful princess was expected to do. I must remember to be more bountiful to my slippery steward too.

I smote the hard coping with my fist as I considered whether to change my gown.

And then the sun broke through.

My eyes were dazzled by the gold stitching and ostentatious cloth of gold wadding on pennon and flag. And on the tabard of the royal herald who rode next to the man in the lead. As for him, it sparkled on the chased studs of his brigandine, on the hilt of his sword. I could well imagine the jewels in his livery collar and set deep into his belt. A King’s ransom, worn without fear of chance robbers.

‘It’s the Prince, my lady.’

‘So I see.’

The light brightened; so did the approaching image.

For a single moment my breath held in my lungs. And then I breathed out again. This was only the creation of the extraordinary light, which would immediately be dimmed if viewed through darkened glass. And yet I felt the prickle of perspiration along my hairline. He had probably come to see the progress of his godsons, rather than me, to assess if they were pursuing their military lessons. Ned had stood godfather to both Tom and John, which would give him an interest.

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