Blood Between Queens by Barbara Kyle Page A

if you want to stain the reputation of our house.”
    “No . . . of course not,” she stammered, “but, I mean, could you not intercede for me with Her Majesty? Get this plan changed? Anyone could go in my place. I know she relies on your counsel.”
    “With good reason, that I advise her honestly. You are her choice, and I agree it’s an excellent one. Why do you balk?”
    She was in turmoil. How much could she tell him? Looking at his weathered face, his worried look as he waited for an explanation for her extraordinary resistance, she knew his concern for her was heartfelt. He had taken her in when she was a terrified, lonely child and had brought her up like a daughter. No father could have been more kind. She owed him the truth. The whole truth.
    She took a breath and began to pour out her heart. How, despite her promise, she had not yet told Will her real background. How she had met him that morning at St. Paul’s and heard that he’d told his mother of their desire to marry and that his mother had flown into a panic and refused to give her consent.
    Listening, Lord Thornleigh let out a groan. He sat down heavily in the chair by the desk. “I was afraid of this.”
    Justine froze. She was right. “She knows who I am. That’s it, isn’t it?”
    He nodded grimly. “She does. So, now Will knows, too?”
    “No. He has no idea about it, I’m sure. But he said his mother may come to you and demand that you refuse your consent.”
    “Poor Joan. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her.”
    “And you won’t listen to her, will you? If she demands that you to forbid us to marry?”
    “I told you, I’m pleased about this marriage.”
    “But if she insists—”
    “Justine, don’t worry. I’m sorry Joan has reacted so badly, but it changes nothing. You have my consent and my blessing. That’s all you and Will need.”
    She was so grateful she did not trust her voice to be steady. She whispered, “Thank you.”
    “I feel I should thank you, ” he said with feeling. “This means a lot to me. A new beginning. The hatred between the houses of Thornleigh and Grenville has festered too long, like some witch’s spell. You and Will, with your union, are going to break it.” He glanced at his hand hanging limply at his side. “I want peace. That’s the legacy I intend to leave my family.”
    “Leave?” She felt a clutch of alarm. “Is your malady so dire?”
    He chuckled. “Don’t bury me yet, girl. I mean to dance and eat plums at your wedding.”
    She had to smile. This day, so overwrought, was making her imagine things.
    “You and Will have already made peace,” he said, “and that’s what’s so heartening. Now the rest of us need to do the same. I’ll talk to Joan.” He got to his feet. “And you need to go and get packed. Your first duty is to Elizabeth.”
    She did not move. Gathering her courage, she swallowed and said, “Sir, there is more.” She confessed that this very morning she and Will had become betrothed.
    “What?” His extreme displeasure was plain. “That was ill done, Justine. Betrothal is serious. It should be an open, public ceremony, not this hole-in-corner sneaking.”
    “When I went to meet him, sir, I did not know it would happen. He asked, and I was so happy I said yes. He had brought a friend, a vicar, and the ceremony was done then and there.”
    “And you never thought to wait until the thing could be properly done? You should have had your family with you. Me .” He looked almost hurt.
    Justine loved him for his concern. But she could not pretend to regret her vow to Will. “I hope you will forgive me, my lord. It was done for love.”
    He gave her a piercing look as if to warn her that she could not be so easily mollify him. But a ghost of a smile played on his lips. “Love above all, eh?”
    It moved her. He understood. He was only putting on a show of anger now. Yet her fears leapt up again. “Sir, I persuaded Will that our betrothal should be a secret for