The Marriage Prize by Virginia Henley Page A

a by-your-leave. With Rod absent, it
    was impossible for her to spend the night with Edward, so it
    was pointless for her to remain at Kenilworth under Eleanor
    de Montfort's contemptuous gaze.

    ******************
Alyce scribbled a note for her lover and gave it to his squire,
    Owen, since he was the only one she dared to trust.
    Mon Amour,
    I shal persuade Richard to return to Gloucester, but shal
    proceed to London and stay at Westminster in my fathers
    apartments. I wish you would return to Windsor before
    Christmas, so we could spend it together, but if not, I wil come
    to you whenever you send word.
    It was an arrangement they had used before. As wel as
    access to Westminster, Alyce often enjoyed carte blanche at
    the numerous de Clare castles close to London, without the
    presence of her odious young husband.
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    She and Gilbert hated the sight of each other and were
    happiest when they were separated by a goodly distance.
    Alyce was alarmed that Edward was al ying himself with
    Simon de Montfort, though she was far too wise to voice her
    objection to her lover. Instead, she would voice it to her father-
    in-law, Richard de Clare, when the opportunity presented
    itself.
    The fol owing day, Edward hid his amusement when Richard
    de Clare bade him farewel . "I've absented myself from
    Gloucester for far too long. Gilbert has decided to stay on
    awhile—he hero-worships Simon, you know—but duty cal s
    me. You must come and stay with us at Gloucester and
    sample our hospitality."
    "Thank you for your generous offer, Richard; I have every
    intention of sampling it one day soon."

    ******************
At Pershore, Rosamond tasted each of the dishes set before
    her. The food was good, and she was able to enjoy it because
    she had inspected the kitchen and found it clean and tidy.
    Rosamond and Nan sat alone at the head table, while the
    household servants sat much farther down the hal . "I give
    credit where it is due, they have earned their dinner today."
    Nan replied, "The change in attitude is amazing. It is difficult to believe it was only yesterday we were treated like dirt beneath
    their feet. We owe it al to Sir Rodger."
    "Yes, a royal steward has a great deal of power and authority."
    "My lady, even if he had no such office, the result would be the
    same, I warrant. It is the man they are obeying, not the office."
    "Yes, it is a man's world—I wil never doubt that again. Al the
    power is in their hands."
    "If a woman is fortunate enough to marry a powerful man, and
    clever enough to hold that man in the palm of her hand, she
    gains al his power for herself," Nan pointed out.
    "That is certainly what Lady Eleanor de Montfort has done,
    and I know what you are trying to tel me, Nan; I'm not oblivious
    to the fact that I am betrothed to Sir Rodger de Leyburn."
    Nan smiled knowingly. "He reminds you of it every time he
    looks at you with those devilish green eyes. Surely he sets
    your pulses racing and heats your blood, my lamb?"
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    "He does not!" Rosamond declared, yet an inner voice cal ed
    her a liar.
    "Have you ever noticed the marked resemblance between Sir
    Rodger and Sir Rickard de Burgh?" Nan asked innocently.
    "Yes ... no ... I don't know what you're talking about."
    "I'm talking about their bodies—shoulders so wide and
    powerful, they make a female feel faint, hair blacker than
    midnight, eyes like green pools of temptation a woman would
    wil ingly drown in, and the same rich, dark laugh that makes
    your very spine tingle. Both are wickedly handsome warriors
    who could lure any lady to wantonness."
    Rosamond tried to picture Rickard de Burgh, but it was
    Rodger de Leyburn who rose up vividly in her mind,
    completely obliterating her ability to conjure the older knight,
    who until recently had fil ed al of her daydreams and
    fantasies. She shivered, for Rod de Leyburn was real flesh
    and blood, not some ephemeral fancy.
    Just as she drained her wine goblet, Griffin, accompanied by
    Ned, came into the hal