Hearts of Fire by Anita Mills

Author:Anita Mills [Mills, Anita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626810464
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2013-11-11T16:00:00+00:00

19

Gilliane watched from the tall tower window, awaiting the nearing mesnie with some trepidation, while Richard stood on the courtyard steps with almost boyish eagerness. An approaching herald sounded the trumpet call, and then the bridge began to lower. Despite the chill of an early-spring mist, Gilliane leaned forward through the open window for a better look at Robert of Gloucester as he led his men into Celesin. And she was more than a little disappointed by her first glimpse of him, thinking this then was the great earl, the man who inspired such loyalty and trust.

But though he was neither particularly tall nor very handsome, Robert of Gloucester nonetheless drew people to him, and it was oft remarked for a pity that this best son of the old king had been born a bastard. Nearing forty-six years of age, he was the undisputed landholder of such vast lands that only he could rival Stephen of Blois for wealth, power, and popularity in England. And although three months had passed since Stephen had usurped the throne, all Normandy and England still waited and watched to see what, if anything, Earl Robert intended to do about it.

She stared downward, thinking that all of her life she’d heard her father and brothers speak of him with awe—“Robert, the king’s son, the one who helped defeat the French king at Bremule”—the great military leader, the man everyone respected. And yet when she saw him, he looked like any mortal lord. Nay, but if looks made a hero, then Guy of Rivaux was the greater man.

He dismounted, handing his reins to one of Richard’s ostlers, and removed his helm, exposing softly curling brown hair well-tinged with gray, and strong, regular features. His helmet still tucked beneath his arm, he exchanged the kiss of peace with his taller host, stretching to reach first one cheek and then the other, then waiting for Richard to do the same.

Richard had said she could greet him, but she’d found an excuse, not ready to face a stranger’s disdain. Nay, but her love was too new, too precious to tarnish just yet. But there was a pang of regret—had she been the lady of the house, she’d have been honored with Gloucester’s kiss also.

She heard Richard speak low to him and direct his gaze upward, and she saw the earl frown for a moment before he raised his hand in salute to her. She lifted her hand to acknowledge the honor and drew back inside. Sweet Mary, but what had Richard said?

“So Gloucester comes,” Alwina muttered in disgust, plying her needle forcefully behind her. “Aye, and what of it? If he’d meant to wrest Stephen’s crown, he’d have raised an army instead of lingering, and he would have moved ere now.”

“I pray you are right.” Gilliane closed her eyes tightly and whispered a fervent plea to God that he’d not come to ask Richard to fight.

The old woman looked up and her expression softened at the intensity of Gilliane’s prayer.

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