Knights by Linda Lael Miller Page A

would make in the morning.
    Edward’s answering smile was wan, but full of pride and quiet affection.
    Only after that exchange did Gloriana trouble to raise her eyes to the dais and scan it for Dane. He was there, of course, resplendent in his green and white tunic, seated beside Gareth. Mariette was not present, a fact which at once concerned Gloriana and caused her to feel relief. She had not wanted to give up her place on the dais on this day of all days, but she would have done so before sharing the table with both Kenbrook and his future bride.
    After tendering a deep curtsy to Gareth, who was regarding her with a thoughtful frown, Gloriana climbed the dais steps and took her place beside her husband—the man Elaina had enjoined her to win for herself, at all costs.
    She had not entirely decided that he was worth the effort.
    Kenbrook rose as she seated herself and offered the slightest bow of his leonine head. “At last,” he said, and while his smile was charming, his voice was acidic. “Where have you been?”
    Gloriana sat down and helped herself to crusty brown bread and a wedge of yellow cheese, both of which were arrayed in abundance on great wooden platters. “The lady Elaina wished to see me,” she answered, with exaggerated politeness, never meeting his gaze. “Since you delivered the summons yourself, only yesterday afternoon, and since the lady is my dearest friend in all the world but for Edward, you might have deduced as much and never troubled to ask the question.”
    “You left the keep alone.” Dane spoke in a flat, expressionless tone.
    “Of course,” Gloriana replied. “Everyone was too busy to escort me, after all. Edward was having his ceremonial bath, and then there was the special mass, which even the lowliest of the servants attended. Who should I have asked to ride with me to the abbey?”
    “You might have waited,” Dane pointed out, obviously struggling to keep his temper. “I am sure that when the Lady Elaina asked for your attendance, she did not expect you to arrive, unescorted and unchurched, before the cock had ceased his crowing!”
    Gloriana ate hungrily of the delicious cheese before replying sweetly, “Nevertheless, I have been to the abbey and returned in safety, riding Sister Margaret’s little donkey.”
    Dane reached for his wine, drank deeply, and set the tankard down with a resounding thump. Out of the corner of her eye, Gloriana saw both Father Cradoc and Master Eigg lean forward over their trenchersto stare. “You are incorrigible,” Kenbrook said evenly.
    Gloriana smiled brilliantly. “How fortunate that I am not your problem,” she replied, meeting his gaze at last. “Were I you, I should turn my thoughts to the lovely Mariette, who is fragile and quite terrified of this uncivilized country of ours and all its unruly occupants.”
    To Gloriana’s great satisfaction, a rush of color surged up Kenbrook’s neck and simmered at his jawline. “She told you this?”
    “Yes,” Gloriana said, spearing another bit of cheese with the point of her knife. “We are friends. She is quite aggrieved at spoiling my marriage—it seems she expected me to have warts and wrinkles—and wants very much to return to France. I begged her to remain here, of course. The sooner we have severed the bonds of our unholy matrimony, the sooner I may go about making a life for myself.”
    Dane took another swallow of wine, an audible gulp this time, which might have meant she’d gotten under his skin—or merely that he was thirsty. A night of aleswilling and carousing undoubtedly made for a parched tongue, as well as a headache and a roiling stomach. Gloriana hoped so, for St. Gregory’s sake.
    “We have already discussed the matter of your ’life.’ Pray, spare yourself the trouble of making one, as a suitable vocation will be provided for you.”
    Gloriana’s smile was angelic, beatific, blinding—she meant it to be so. “The devil take you,” she said adoringly.