The King's Mistress by Terri Brisbin

consent.
    In her efforts to be aloof and to control him, she had lost. Instead of remaining faithful in heart and body to Henry and the vows of love they shared, she’d held Orrick up against the other men she knew and had misjudged his lust and drew his touch needlessly.
    Marguerite reached the door of the solar and the servant standing outside opened it for her. The room was large, and light streamed into it from not one, but two windows. A number of women worked on the looms, some on the embroidering racks, some on smaller pieces in their laps. Lady Constance called to her and motioned to an empty seat.
    She took it silently and examined the work they were doing. The quality was exceptional and when finished it would complement wherever it was hung. Her skills with a needle and thread were passable so she did not fear embarrassing herself. She acceptedone from one of the ladies and began working on the area in front of her, checking with the sketches of the finished drawing from time to time.
    The chatting between the women ebbed and flowed and it was during a lull that she noticed one woman off to the side with a babe on her lap. The soft sounds of sucking drew her attention and she could not look away. The woman cradled the babe’s head and sang quietly as the child suckled at her breast, and for a moment Marguerite would swear that her own breasts tightened and tingled.
    She had not nursed her own babe, not even briefly, for she was more concerned with losing the milk and getting back to court. A wet nurse had done the duty for her and, until this moment, she had given no thought to what she had not done for her child.
    Lady Constance must have seen her watching the scene, for she spoke to her. “That is Lady Claire. Her daughter is called Alianor.”
    â€œHow old is the babe?” she asked, the words escaping before she could stop them.
    â€œShe is almost six months old now, my lady.”
    The same age as… Marguerite stopped herself now. Pushing away the thoughts that threatened, she nodded and leaned back to the work before her.
    â€œHow do you fare, Lady Marguerite?” Orrick’s mother asked.
    â€œI am better today, my lady. I ask your pardon for disturbing your sleep last night.”
    â€œMen so often have no idea of how to deal with our complaints. Orrick did the right thing coming to me rather than Brother Wilfrid.”
    The women all laughed at her comment. “My thanks for the draught you brought,” she replied. She was grateful for the assistance in the night—to Lady Constance for coming to her aid and to Orrick for…the comfort he offered, as well.
    The loud burp from the babe drew all their attention for a moment, but Marguerite’s gaze lingered once more on the mother and child. Now fed, the babe began dozing on the woman’s shoulder. How did that feel? Had her… No! She must not allow herself to dwell on that.
    â€œI know many women whose monthly courses are lessened after the birth of a baby,” Lady Constance offered. From the lady’s expression, it was a hint and an encouragement to the wife of her son rather than a general comment. “The pains and illness can be much easier to bear after childbirth.”
    The sudden attention was almost too much for her. Marguerite knew that an heir was the first responsibility of a wife and that most of those in the room expected it of her. Lady Constance and mayhap only her closest confidante knew of the true situation between Orrick and her.
    Part of her wanted to strike out and disabuse them of their false expectations. But memories of Orrick’s treatment of her held her tongue. They would all know the truth soon enough when Henry called her back. There was no reason to make it their concern now. And she had no wish to embarrass him before his people.
    â€œSo I have heard, as well, my lady,” she answered.
    Lady Constance turned her attentions back to thetapestry and