Forbidden Magic Page 2

  "I should think, Gwynne, you would seek better things to occupy your mind than goggling like some simpleminded milkmaid," Jewel declared quietly, "or beg Dawn and Lynette to play along. They are betrothed and should expend then energies on matters more important."

  Gwynne's nose rose slightly and her silky mane swayed down her back. "You are jealous, I think."

  "Jealous?" Jewel laughed. "I see nothing to twist my mind."

  "Ah, but there is. You've been betrothed since birth and never had the pleasure of enticing a man. Your fate was decided before you could think on it." Rosy lips slanted upward with her smile. "I, however, am free to choose any company I want, while you must sit alone in your chambers making tapestries and awaiting your betrothed." She looked doubtfully at Jewel. "If there is such a knight."

  "Gwynne, hold thy tongue," Lynette gasped. "All of England knows his name. Even you have spoken of him."

  Brown eyes flashed sparks of anger at the poor girl and Lynette quickly lowered her head. "I speak of him with loathing," Gwynne replied, her voice low as if she wished her words to fall with greater meaning.

  "Only because he found no patience with your games and turned from you when you had yet to say your mind," Dawn finished with a triumphant grin.

  "Twas I who shunned him," Gwynne charged. Her eyes narrowed, gleaming venomously. "It has been told he favors young lads to fair damsels."

  "Gwynne!" Dawn shouted. "Cease your prattle. I've heard naught of this, but if the lies had reached my ears, I would have laid blame on you and your deceitful mind."

  Pleased with the reaction her words had brought, for she had seen the pained look in Jewel's eyes, Gwynne lifted a tawny brow and asked, "Then why, pray tell, does Jewel's betrothed choose to ride with King Richard rather than claim her hand and seek out a priest? Or better still, why has he not even feasted his eyes on her since she was but a child of six?"

  "He is a knight and honorably so," Dawn insisted. "He must serve his king first before taking the pleasures of a bride."

  "Perhaps," she scoffed. "But I think not. Even knights must ease their needs and Jewel is not a hag . .. not as pretty as most, but fair enough."

  "Go slither about the dark corners, Gwynne, where your kin resides, and spare us all your bitter tongue," Dawn urged heatedly, turning to envelop her friend in a gentle hold. "But beware. Even they may turn from you when they find your wit lacking." Guiding Jewel away, she paused to add, "And set your mind on this, oh fair Gwynne: if your beauty is so great, why are you the only one here who finds herself without the promise of marriage?" A satisfied gleam sparkled in Dawn's eyes when she saw Gwynne stiffen and knew for once a victory on her part. Without further word, she lifted her nose in the air as she had so many times seen Gwynne do and led her small entourage back down the corridor to Jewel's chambers.

  "You shouldn't have been so careless with your words," Lynette warned once they had closed the heavy door behind them. "She will seek revenge."

  "She does not cause my knees to tremble," her sister rebuffed, "but only sets my mind to wonder why I curse myself with her presence. She has a way of poisoning my thoughts and twisting my will to do as she bids before I know the deed is done." She sighed heavily with the declaration, then remembered what had brought about the discord and focused her attention on more serious matters. With tenderness born of friendship, Dawn moved to stand beside Jewel as the silent one-stared outside her window. "They are lies, Jewel."

  Amber eyes glanced up with a doubtful look. "Are they?" she challenged. "To a portion of what Gwynne spoke I can attest. My betrothed did leave his home to train for knighthood when I was but six, and to my knowledge he has never sought to look upon me since. One and ten years have passed and I reached womanhood long ago, the time meant to wed, and I fear he has forsaken our fathers' pledge, his and mine, to bring about a marriage and seal two families as one. They were friends and thought only of our happiness, a bond of wedlock to announce their own. You and I know well that many knights marry and still carry a sword into battle."

  "But Jewel, he left three summers past to stand beside his king in the Holy Land and has not yet returned. You told me as much. Did you think he would beg leave to satisfy your needs when all of Christendom's are greater?" Dawn argued.

  "Nay," Jewel whispered. "But doth lay open my mind to gossip I have heard."

  "What gossip?"

  Jewel cast her gaze outside the chamber again. "That he finds little love in his heart for women."

  "Bahhh," Dawn snorted. "Your ears betray you."

  "Nay, sister," Lynette spoke up, "for I have heard such as well?"

  Dawn glared warningly at the thoughtless maiden. "Begone with you and send your footsteps to the kitchen. Our foolish games have left us all light-headed for lack of food and drink. Beg what you can from the cook and bring it here where Gwynne cannot turn our stomachs against it."

  "Yes, Dawn," her sister replied, nodding weakly, eager to depart, for she knew her careless words had only deepened Jewel's wound and she saw no way to change it. Quietly and with haste she made her exit.

  Her eyes still affixed to the closed door, Dawn muttered, "Methinks our mother mixed up our dates of birth, for I swear she must be younger. At times, she babbles like an infant."

  "Don't be angered by her innocence, Dawn," Jewel said softly. "She only says what others whisper."

  "What others? Those of lesser rank whose envy colors their thoughts?" Dawn disputed. "Name them so that I may put your worries aside when I discredit their worthiness."

  A soft smile creased the smooth lines on Jewel's face. "His own father?"

  Dawn's chin sagged with the news and she realized no argument would sound firm. "You did not mention this before."

  "I have not known you long enough for you to learn all my secrets," Jewel said with a laugh, turning away from the window to stand near the blaze in the hearth. "I came to court but four weeks past."

  "Then will you tell me now so I may better understand?"

  Jewel looked at her friend, her eyes reflecting the golden lights of the fire, and smiled. "Yea, if you wish. But it shall be for your ears alone. Until we are wed and I learn for myself, I will not bend to the laying on of charges by others." Turning away to sit down in the high-backed chair next to Dawn, Jewel presented a most striking profile, and though the lady herself had little knowledge of this, Dawn reaffirmed her decision that this young maiden was by far the most beautiful in court, even more so than Lady Gwynne.

  "My father and Lord Ryland, my betrothed's father, had been friends from childhood since the lands of their fathers joined. Lord Ryland shared alt-his secrets with my father and I must assume he would not recite a falsehood," she began, staring into the flames. "My betrothed's mother died when he was but a babe and thus he never felt the love of a woman. Lord Ryland realized the need for his son to have such affection and, beset by his own loneliness, he married again two years later— Lady Edlyn of Hardwin in northern England. My father and mother were not yet wed then, but from the few times Lord Ryland spoke of it, my mother learned that this second marriage was not one of mutual love. It was rumored she had a lover!'

  "'Tis not uncommon, Jewel, for both to take lovers," Dawn contradicted softly.

  Amber-hued eyes smiled over at her. "Yea, but not always fact. My father and mother hold no affection in their hearts for any other." Jewel watched the flames again. "Lady Edlyn did, and when her lover scorned her, she became very bitter. And when her own son, Radolf, was born, she placed him above her stepson. Many times Lord Ryland would take sides against his firstborn, poisoned as he was by his wife's trickery, and as my betrothed grew from childhood, his heart hardened against the ways of women."

  Reaching out, Dawn touched her friend's hand. "But you are not that way, Jewel. You are kind, truthful, devoted. You've proven that with each day that passes and you seek no other for companionship."

  A gentle smile deepened the dimple at one corner of Jewel's mouth. "Because J will not sham
e the name of Harcourt. I love my father and mother and will see their wishes fulfilled." A slight coloring darkened Jewel's fair complexion. "But it does not mean my eyes are blind to the feast of handsomeness."

  Dawn laughed gaily. "And you prove you are a mortal being."

  "More than you think, my friend," Jewel sighed. "There are many times when I wonder if my life would have found happier moments had I been the simpleminded milkmaid I dubbed Gwynne. Then I would be free to choose a husband and do so out of love."

  "Can you deny the possibility that one day you might find such feelings for your betrothed?" Dawn challenged lightly. "Methinks even the hardest of hearts would soften when set upon by your gentleness and beauty."

  "Beauty?" Jewel laughed. "Tis clear the lack of food has left you addled. What beauty I possess will never turn appraising eyes, much less a heart of stone." A slender hand lifted an auburn lock of hair from her shoulder. "It catches the color of the fire and is much too thick." Accusing fingers trailed the trim figure. "And I'm much too thin in places and full in others. Nay"—she shook her head—"methinks a gallant knight would choose a fair maiden, one tall in stature with exquisite beauty, who is quick of tongue and more knowledgeable than I."

  "As Gwynne?" Dawn asked, one brow raised.

  "Yea, as Gwynne."

  "Then 'tis you who is faint, for I have seen many men, young and old, turn to watch you pass. Your thoughts are always elsewhere and thus you fail to note their silent compliments." She scooted forward in her chair. "Why, pray tell, does Gwynne scorn you, set lies in your head about your betrothed and the comeliness you alone possess? Methinks she is jealous."

  A light blush rose in Jewel's cheeks.

  "And your eyes, fair Jewel, do capture any who would look upon you. Most would say they are brown, but not I. They capture the sunlight in them, a color no other can claim. They set you apart from most and leave their image burned in every mind. I do not know your betrothed, Jewel, only by name and shield, but I wager all I own that he too will feel the sting of your beauty and be left breathless in your wake."

  "You do me honor with your praise, my friend," Jewel answered tenderly, "but the beauty of which you speak lies only upon the surface, if indeed it exists at all, and will not entrap a heart as calloused as my betrothed's for long. I must have beauty of the soul if I wish to hold him for any length of time, and that, I fear, I do not have. 'Tis why I worry." The yellow cloth of her gunna shimmered as she stood. "If one so graced as Gwynne can bring about his scorn, how can I, a simple maid, hope to win his love?"

  "Because she has the surface beauty only, Jewel. She will catch a man's eye but nothing more," Dawn pointed out, her words strong. "Is that not why she finds herself unmarried and more than a score in years?" A wicked grin pursed her lips. "And what man would want what others have had before Win?"

  The skirts of Jewel's gunna rustled when she spun around to face her. "Dawn!" she gasped.

  '"Tis truth," the young girl declared. "She speaks often of her affairs as battles she has won. If she cannot still her tongue, how can they with whom she lies?"

  "But we must not be among those who spread the word further," Jewel scolded.

  Dawn stiffened in the chair. "And you sorely injure me. I have told none but you." The smile returned and shone clearly in her eyes. "And Lynette ... and .. ."

  Feeling the humor of the younger woman's recital, Jewel failed to conceal her own mirth and broke into merry laughter. "I will hate the day I must return home and leave you behind, Dawn. I have never had a friend before you and doubt I could find another equal."

  "Then let's vow to see our friendship last. Though our married lives will set us miles apart, we will visit from time to time."

  "Yea," Jewel agreed with a nod of coppery curls. "I will gladly make the pledge." She reached out, intending to touch the other's hand, when Lynette burst into the room, startling both her sister and Jewel, and bringing an irritated frown to her sibling's brow when it was discovered she had returned empty-handed.

  "Lynette," Dawn barked. "You have the manners of a donkey to enter thus and without food to break our fast. Have you run in circles that you find yourself here and not standing before the cook?"

  Gasping for air, Lynette's speech came raggedly. "I... I had .. . gotten down . . . the hall. .. near Her Majesty's chambers ... when I saw them . .." She pressed a tiny hand to her heaving bosom in an effort to catch her breath.

  "Who, Lynette? Who did you see?" her sister inquired curiously, rising from the chair.

  "The knights ... the ones who rode with King Richard." Dawn's fists angrily rested on her slim hips. "And you forsook our need for food to enlighten us with knowledge that is not sew?"

  "But Dawn," Lynette pouted, bright blue eyes reflecting her injured pride, "I came quickly because I saw the coat of arms of one."

  Dawn's anger fled. She dropped her arms at her sides and glanced over at Jewel.

  "The silver falcon on a black shield. Jewel, 'tis your betrothed, Sir Amery of Wellington!"

  A flood of emotions coursed through Jewel, but an odd fear overrode them all, leaving her knees weak, her pulse quick, her stomach fluttering. She stood unmoving, her lips silent.

  "Didst thou hear, Jewel?" Dawn asked excitedly. "'Tis Amery!" She turned back to her sister.

  "Is he still there?"

  "I... I don't know. I did not hear of what they spoke, but perchance they have remained. Why?" Lynette questioned.

  "We must see him, of course!" Dawn smiled happily. "Mayhap even a moment to speak. If he has just now returned, methinks he doth not know of Lady Jewel's presence. Come," she urged, pulling at her sister's sleeve, "we must find a brush with which to bring the shine to Jewel's hair." She paused abruptly, appraising her friend from head to toe, her nose wrinkling. "You should wear the mauve damask gunna, Jewel, but time has flown. The yellow must do."

  Taking her hand, Dawn led the silent girl to the chair she had vacated earlier and gently pushed her down into it, then stood back to watch Lynette stroke the long auburn curls to a coppery glow. When her sister had finished. Dawn smiled approvingly. "Methinks he will be pleased," she announced with a nod of her head.

  "He would have to be old and lacking wits sot to agree," Lynette concurred with a girlish grin. She sobered almost instantly. "Thou wilt allow me to go along, Dawn?"

  Dawn gave her sister a sharp look. "Only if you promise to hold your tongue and not giggle like a child."

  A faint line appeared on the other's brow. "I am not a child. I am older than you," she objected.

  Dawn raised a questioning brow yet chose not to voice her opinion on the matter; rather, she settled her attention on their companion again. But once she saw the troubled look on Jewel's face, her own brow wrinkled in wonderment. "Dost something worry you, Jewel?" she asked quietly.

  Rising slowly, Jewel went to the window of the room to stare outside once more. "Yes," she half whispered. "For years I have thought of our first meeting, the joy, the excitement of it. But now that it has come, I wish to delay it. I fear he will turn from me as he has from Gwynne. I do not know if I could bear the shame of it."

  "But Gwynne was not his betrothed, the maiden his father had chosen for him to marry," Dawn pointed out. "You are different. And the sight of you alone will cause his feet to remain still. Would you care to prove me wrong?"

  Not disheartened when Jewel remained silent, Dawn decided on another approach. "You have always admired my mother's ring," she said, cunningly studying the piece of jewelry on her finger. To prove to you how strongly I believe, I'll give you this ring if I'm wrong and Sir Amery turns from you as if you are not there."

  "Twould not be fair," Jewel replied dispassionately, her attention still lingering on the roofs of the buildings thai surrounded the royal palace. "You will lose and be forced to explain your foolishness for a bare finger."

  "But Jewel," Dawn moaned impatiently, her temper surfacing. "You must meet with him sometime. You cannot always hide in your
room. Twould make the wedding ceremony difficult if the priest were forced to run from one place to another to hear the vows spoken!" Her anger ebbed when she noticed the tiny dimple appear at the corner of Jewel's mouth.

  "Yea, and if the kind father had reached a goodly number of years, he would find his breath short for all the exercise." Jewel grinned, envisioning the scene. She looked over at her friend. "And you are right, as always. 'Twould only postpone my agony to seek the shadows of my chambers." She straightened, smoothed the wrinkles from her gunna and started toward the door. "Come, my love-struck friends. We shall feast our eyes on King Richard's knights."

  Grinning excitedly. Dawn and Lynette hurriedly followed their friend from the room and fell into step on either side of Jewel as they made their way down this long corridor. Each grew silent with her own thoughts. Lynette pondered her first sight of Sir Amery's handsome features; in her previous travels she had only seen the light brown hair streaked golden by the sun, for his back had been turned to her. But his size and height had taken her breath away, and she could only assume him to be the most dashing knight in any king's army.

  Dawn considered other things. She worried Jewel was right about her betrothed's feelings for women. And if he shunned Jewel as he had Gwynne, Dawn knew it would have a greater, deeper effect on Jewel. She sighed inwardly, knowing no amount of prayer would help, and readied herself to find out within a few moments.

  Of the three, only Jewel frowned, for in her heart she suspected their first meeting would burn an image in her mind so vivid that it would last her lifetime. She had shared a few secrets with Dawn, but not all. She had not told her that Amery's half brother, Radolf, had spoken of his love for her, had told her that if in some way he could change the agreement between their fathers, he would seek her hand in marriage. Jewel recalled her surprise when he had first voiced his feelings for her, for she had been certain he only teased, but when he had tried to kiss her, she had been appalled. Although it had happened several years ago and in no way could show upon her face, Jewel feared that once Amery looked upon her he would discover her unfaithfulness. Others might not term it such, but, deep inside, Jewel blamed herself for Radolf's boldness, feeling that in some way she had unknowingly led him on. Her frown deepened as she chewed on her lower lip. It would be all the evidence Amery needed to prove that his mistrust of women was well founded.