will return after nooning.”
Edric closed the door after the brothers and slid the bolt.
“My thanks for your kindness,” Edric said stiffly.
She noticed the absence of an honorific. ’Twas her due to be addressed properly, but just as she must have patience with Richard, she must tolerate—within bounds—slights from his men. Being the widow of a traitor, she wouldn’t be easily accepted by anyone, especially those in service to Wilmont.
“How long before the procession begins?” she asked.
“Some time yet. Have you seen the entertainers in the courtyard? I hear there is to be a dancing bear.”
“Truly?” Philip exclaimed, his eyes going wide.
Edric looked down at Philip with an expression akin to pity. “So I hear.”
Philip dashed for the bedchamber and managed to push the trunk several inches without aid. Then Edric put his muscle behind it and shoved it beneath the window. Philip scrambled atop the trunk, leaning too far out of the window for a mother’s comfort.
She put her hands on Philip’s waist just as he lurched forward, his arm fully outstretched, pointing down and to the left. “Oh, look! There is a bear in the courtyard! And he dances on his hind legs!”
Richard may have kept them here for his own reasons,but Lucinda admitted he’d been right about their vantage point. She could see the entire courtyard, as well as the street in front of Westminster Hall, without hindrance.
With fascination nearly matching Philip’s excitement she watched the bear whose black fur matched the pelt she’d slept on last night—on which she’d dreamed of Richard. No doubt because the pelt no longer smelled of bear but held Richard’s scent. Human male.
She remembered little of the dream now. Just that Richard stood before her, desire in his eyes, and gently stroked her cheek. She woke aching in places where a widow should not ache, for a man she couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.
“Acrobats!” Philip cried, drawing her attention back to the courtyard.
Men walked on their hands and flipped their bodies in midair. They tumbled over and around each other in precisely coordinated patterns.
She sensed Edric move in behind her. She shifted slightly to give him a better view.
Musicians followed the acrobats. Then a scantily clad woman who walked on a rope strung high off the yard between two poles. Philip clapped and cheered for each in turn.
A knock sounded at the outer door. Edric drew his short sword from his belt.
“’Tis likely only servants come with our meal,” she told her guard.
“Likely,” he said, but didn’t put his sword away as he left to answer the door. He returned moments later, bearing a platter of bread, cheese and cups of ale, which he put on the table.
He then grabbed a fistful of the back of Philip’s tunic. “I will hold whilst you eat.”
Lucinda felt a brief flash of panic, then chided herself. Edric’s duty was to care for Philip. Richard’s man would guard the child with his life, if necessary. She let go of Philip’s waist and went over to the table.
She broke off a piece of cheese, shoved it into a chunk of bread and gave the food to Philip. He ate absently. She doubted that he knew who gave him the food or what he ate.
“Would you care to share our meal?” she asked Edric.
“I ate.”
“Ale, then?”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion, as if she were offering poison. “Not whilst on duty.”
She went back to the table and broke her fast, struggling with frustration. Dealing with these men of Wilmont would test her fortitude sorely. Edric’s kindness easily succumbed to suspicion. Stephen refused to acknowledge her very existence. Richard looked for hidden motives behind her every word or action.
’Twould be a very long two years if she must watch her every word or action. But then, she’d been in their constant company for a mere day. She silently confessed her guilt of behaving in a similar manner, not trusting them much
Edric closed the door after the brothers and slid the bolt.
“My thanks for your kindness,” Edric said stiffly.
She noticed the absence of an honorific. ’Twas her due to be addressed properly, but just as she must have patience with Richard, she must tolerate—within bounds—slights from his men. Being the widow of a traitor, she wouldn’t be easily accepted by anyone, especially those in service to Wilmont.
“How long before the procession begins?” she asked.
“Some time yet. Have you seen the entertainers in the courtyard? I hear there is to be a dancing bear.”
“Truly?” Philip exclaimed, his eyes going wide.
Edric looked down at Philip with an expression akin to pity. “So I hear.”
Philip dashed for the bedchamber and managed to push the trunk several inches without aid. Then Edric put his muscle behind it and shoved it beneath the window. Philip scrambled atop the trunk, leaning too far out of the window for a mother’s comfort.
She put her hands on Philip’s waist just as he lurched forward, his arm fully outstretched, pointing down and to the left. “Oh, look! There is a bear in the courtyard! And he dances on his hind legs!”
Richard may have kept them here for his own reasons,but Lucinda admitted he’d been right about their vantage point. She could see the entire courtyard, as well as the street in front of Westminster Hall, without hindrance.
With fascination nearly matching Philip’s excitement she watched the bear whose black fur matched the pelt she’d slept on last night—on which she’d dreamed of Richard. No doubt because the pelt no longer smelled of bear but held Richard’s scent. Human male.
She remembered little of the dream now. Just that Richard stood before her, desire in his eyes, and gently stroked her cheek. She woke aching in places where a widow should not ache, for a man she couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.
“Acrobats!” Philip cried, drawing her attention back to the courtyard.
Men walked on their hands and flipped their bodies in midair. They tumbled over and around each other in precisely coordinated patterns.
She sensed Edric move in behind her. She shifted slightly to give him a better view.
Musicians followed the acrobats. Then a scantily clad woman who walked on a rope strung high off the yard between two poles. Philip clapped and cheered for each in turn.
A knock sounded at the outer door. Edric drew his short sword from his belt.
“’Tis likely only servants come with our meal,” she told her guard.
“Likely,” he said, but didn’t put his sword away as he left to answer the door. He returned moments later, bearing a platter of bread, cheese and cups of ale, which he put on the table.
He then grabbed a fistful of the back of Philip’s tunic. “I will hold whilst you eat.”
Lucinda felt a brief flash of panic, then chided herself. Edric’s duty was to care for Philip. Richard’s man would guard the child with his life, if necessary. She let go of Philip’s waist and went over to the table.
She broke off a piece of cheese, shoved it into a chunk of bread and gave the food to Philip. He ate absently. She doubted that he knew who gave him the food or what he ate.
“Would you care to share our meal?” she asked Edric.
“I ate.”
“Ale, then?”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion, as if she were offering poison. “Not whilst on duty.”
She went back to the table and broke her fast, struggling with frustration. Dealing with these men of Wilmont would test her fortitude sorely. Edric’s kindness easily succumbed to suspicion. Stephen refused to acknowledge her very existence. Richard looked for hidden motives behind her every word or action.
’Twould be a very long two years if she must watch her every word or action. But then, she’d been in their constant company for a mere day. She silently confessed her guilt of behaving in a similar manner, not trusting them much
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