Dryden's Bride by Margo Maguire

agile, more… raffiné …euuh, refined in their skills. They needed a leader to give them direction.”
    Hugh shrugged in response. Plenty of men could lead Clairmont’s troops. There was nothing particularly special about his own methods.
    “Clairmont is quite pleasant, no?” she asked.
    “Very…nice,” Hugh replied with a shrug. He’d never been a great conversationalist, never having needed the skill before. He’d ridden with men all his life, lived with them, eaten and drunk with them. Fought with them. None had been excessive talkers.
    Now, though, it seemed he had some adjustments to make. He was going to have to learn to deal with female company. Make conversation. Listen to chatter about needlework and fashion. Cooking. Babies.
    Hugh didn’t know if he was up to it.
    “Lady Marguerite is a chatelaine whom any man would be proud to call wife.”
    “I am certain you are correct, Your Majesty.” Whatman in his right mind wouldn’t want Marguerite? Beautiful, intelligent, charming. He supposed he should say something to that effect to the queen, but couldn’t find the words that would express the thought correctly. Besides, Catherine already knew Marguerite’s attributes. There was no need for Hugh to reiterate them.
    “She always strove to be a good daughter and sister,” Catherine said, “and, of course, a model wife to Richard Bradley. Now, though, Marguerite is in a position she has never enjoyed in her life.”
    Hugh raised an eyebrow. What in kingdom come was Catherine talking about now? He hadn’t thought about Marguerite in any way other than as the chatelaine of a very wealthy estate. As an eligible widow in dire need of a husband with strong military skills.
    “My friend has freedom now,” the queen said, her voice soft and even. The French lilt was pleasing. “She is free—for the first time in her life—to make her own decisions. Free from the dictates and demands of a father or brother…or husband.”
    “Dictates?” Hugh asked, puzzled.
    “You are a man,” Catherine explained, “so it is difficult for you to understand, yes?”
    Hugh frowned. What was there to understand? Men made decisions, ruled their families. Certainly a considerate and generous man would take into consideration the wishes of his wife and daughters when he made decisions affecting the family.
    “You must be patient with Marguerite…” the queen said, interrupting Hugh’s musings. “I do not doubt she will come ’round,” Catherine added. “But it may take time.”
    Henry ran to his mother just then, and she picked him up. “Il n’a qu’un oeil, maman,” he said, pointingto Hugh’s covered eye. Then he put two fingers into his mouth and gnawed toothlessly at them, drooling profusely all the while.
    “ Oui , little one,” Catherine said. “But you must speak English. It is your duty to speak the language of our people.” The queen looked up at Hugh. “Marguerite will also, no doubt, do her duty for her people.”
    Hugh thought about his discussion with the queen as he spent the next hour in Marguerite’s solar, watching the ladies as they worked on the tapestry, exchanging stilted conversation with Marguerite and the rest of them.
    He hated this. Hugh had no idea how to court his intended wife, or what to say to gain her interest. He supposed they could go over the account books of the demesne, but that would not really be appropriate until they were actually betrothed. They could speak of military matters, but Hugh didn’t think Marguerite was more than superficially interested. As long as the knights were capable of defending Clairmont, that was all she wanted or needed to know. Management of the castle? On that subject, it was Hugh who cared little.
    It made for a strained and awkward afternoon.
    The days passed as Hugh awaited Marguerite’s decision and he practiced tirelessly with sword and lance. Nicholas parried with him, as well as with Clairmont’s other knights, as they all