Forbidden Magic (2 page)

M
orning sunlight fought the shadows stealing in through every window as the golden orb rose high in the eastern sky, melting the frost clinging to the grasses and rooftops of London, promising what warmth it could offer on this cold December day. Fires had been rekindled and the smells of sweet breads filled the great hall of the royal palace, where long trestle tables had been set elaborately with food and drink to break the fast.

Though many were already partaking of this morning meal, not all of the ladies-in-waiting to the dowager queen had yet ventured to the hall. Three remained hovering outside Eleanor's chambers awaiting her presence and a moment to beg her indulgence. Rumors had flown about the palace shortly after sunrise that two of King Richard's knights had arrived with word of the king's fate. Although all of England feared the worst—that King Richard had been killed in the Crusade— these young and foolish damsels simply hoped to feast their love-struck eyes on the gallant men who had marched with their king. None of the ladies knew the identities of these knights, yet they envisioned the bravest of men and prayed for a moment to flirt.

Their careless daydreams were suddenly shattered when further down the hall a huge door moaned its objection at opening. Expecting a handsome knight to grace their presence, the ladies turned their eyes in flustered nervousness to gaze upon him, only to suffer extreme disappointment when they saw instead the fair Lady Jewel stepping from her chambers. She was clothed in yellow samite and with each step she took the cloth shimmered in the sunlight trailing in through the tall stained-glass windows and cast its glittering reflection onto the auburn hair falling softly over her shoulders. Glancing up in surprise to find she shared the corridor, Jewel smiled back at her friends, then her amber eyes shadowed as she frowned in a sudden change of mood.

"What finds you here?" she questioned when she drew close enough to be heard. "Tis late and I already fear only a morsel shall be left for me."

Her gaze swept the trio and lingered on Lady Lynette, a young, dark-haired maiden with flashing blue eyes, who stepped forward to take Jewel's hand.

"Oh, Jewel, haven't you heard?" she asked excitedly, giving no thought to food. "Two of King Richard's knights have come. They speak with Her Majesty even now."

"Only his knights?" Jewel responded worriedly. Word of the king's Crusade and his disappearance on his travels homeward had been passed from monastery to monastery and had reached the dowager queen's ears some time past, but none would speak of it until it had been verified by one of the king's men who had marched by his side. Her softly arched brows drew together as she contemplated the meaning of the knights' homecoming, certain it would give truth to stories now thought fables. She glanced up to see the smiling face of Lady Dawn, Lynette's younger sister by two years, nodding gleefully.

"Yes, Jewel," she giggled. "We thought to steal a glimpse."

Confused, Jewel looked from one sister to the other. "A glimpse? Upon what do you wish to set your gazes?"

Lynette opened her mouth to share the secret of their venture when the mocking laughter of another caught all ears.

Each turned to stare at Lady Gwynne, the fairest of beauties in Queen Eleanor's court and most conceited of the lot.

"Why, the knights, Jewel," she quipped and cast the others a sarcastic lift of fine brows.

Of the three who stood before her, Jewel knew Gwynne to be the boldest and had little doubt she had shamed the others by threatening to name them cowards if they did not follow her silly whim to hide in the shadows and await a chance to flirt; Her brassy nature had always astounded Jewel and she was continually amazed that any man, especially a man trained to war, would lose his tongue whenever Gwynne bestowed upon him a flutter of lashes or demure gleam of the eye. Yet no one could deny her beauty or think to compare her own features with Gwynne's golden hair and soft brown eyes or the shapely curves of womanhood she never tried to conceal. Jewel had many times watched Gwynne's practiced charms and still failed to understand why the lovely maiden had yet to speak the vows. But then, her sharp tongue had sliced the pride of many suitors. Looking first at Dawn, then Lynette, she finally settled her attention on the arrogant face staring back at her.

"I should think, Gwynne, you would seek better things to occupy your mind than goggling like some simpleminded milkmaid," Jewel declared quietly, "or beg Dawn and Lynette to play along. They are betrothed and should expend then energies on matters more important."

Gwynne's nose rose slightly and her silky mane swayed down her back. "You are jealous, I think."

"Jealous?" Jewel laughed. "I see nothing to twist my mind."

"Ah, but there is. You've been betrothed since birth and never had the pleasure of enticing a man. Your fate was decided before you could think on it." Rosy lips slanted upward with her smile. "I, however, am free to choose any company I want, while you must sit alone in your chambers making tapestries and awaiting your betrothed." She looked doubtfully at Jewel. "If there is such a knight."

"Gwynne, hold thy tongue," Lynette gasped. "All of England knows his name. Even you have spoken of him."

Brown eyes flashed sparks of anger at the poor girl and Lynette quickly lowered her head. "I speak of him with loathing," Gwynne replied, her voice low as if she wished her words to fall with greater meaning.

"Only because he found no patience with your games and turned from you when you had yet to say your mind," Dawn finished with a triumphant grin.

"Twas I who shunned him," Gwynne charged. Her eyes narrowed, gleaming venomously. "It has been told he favors young lads to fair damsels."

"Gwynne!" Dawn shouted. "Cease your prattle. I've heard naught of this, but if the lies had reached my ears, I would have laid blame on you and your deceitful mind."

Pleased with the reaction her words had brought, for she had seen the pained look in Jewel's eyes, Gwynne lifted a tawny brow and asked, "Then why, pray tell, does Jewel's betrothed choose to ride with King Richard rather than claim her hand and seek out a priest? Or better still, why has he not even feasted his eyes on her since she was but a child of six?"

"He is a knight and honorably so," Dawn insisted. "He must serve his king first before taking the pleasures of a bride."

"Perhaps," she scoffed. "But I think not. Even knights must ease their needs and Jewel is not a hag . .. not as pretty as most, but fair enough."

"Go slither about the dark corners, Gwynne, where your kin resides, and spare us all your bitter tongue," Dawn urged heatedly, turning to envelop her friend in a gentle hold. "But beware. Even they may turn from you when they find your wit lacking." Guiding Jewel away, she paused to add, "And set your mind on this, oh fair Gwynne: if your beauty is so great, why are you the only one here who finds herself without the promise of marriage?" A satisfied gleam sparkled in Dawn's eyes when she saw Gwynne stiffen and knew for once a victory on her part. Without further word, she lifted her nose in the air as she had so many times seen Gwynne do and led her small entourage back down the corridor to Jewel's chambers.

"You shouldn't have been so careless with your words," Lynette warned once they had closed the heavy door behind them. "She will seek revenge."

"She does not cause my knees to tremble," her sister rebuffed, "but only sets my mind to wonder why I curse myself with her presence. She has a way of poisoning my thoughts and twisting my will to do as she bids before I know the deed is done." She sighed heavily with the declaration, then remembered what had brought about the discord and focused her attention on more serious matters. With tenderness born of friendship, Dawn moved to stand beside Jewel as the silent one-stared outside her window. "They are lies, Jewel."

Amber eyes glanced up with a doubtful look. "Are they?" she challenged. "To a portion of what Gwynne spoke I can attest. My betrothed did leave his home to train for knighthood when I was but six, and to my knowledge he has never sought to look upon me since. One and ten years have passed and I reached womanhood long ago, the time meant to wed, and I fear he has forsaken our fathers' pledge, his and mine, to bring about a marriage and seal two families as one. They were friends and thought only of our happiness, a bond of wedlock to announce their own. You and I know well that many knights marry and still carry a sword into battle."

"But Jewel, he left three summers past to stand beside his king in the Holy Land and has not yet returned. You told me as much. Did you think he would beg leave to satisfy your needs when all of Christendom's are greater?" Dawn argued.

"Nay," Jewel whispered. "But doth lay open my mind to gossip I have heard."

"What gossip?"

Jewel cast her gaze outside the chamber again. "That he finds little love in his heart for women."

"Bahhh," Dawn snorted. "Your ears betray you."

"Nay, sister," Lynette spoke up, "for I have heard such as well?"

Dawn glared warningly at the thoughtless maiden. "Begone with you and send your footsteps to the kitchen. Our foolish games have left us all light-headed for lack of food and drink. Beg what you can from the cook and bring it here where Gwynne cannot turn our stomachs against it."

"Yes, Dawn," her sister replied, nodding weakly, eager to depart, for she knew her careless words had only deepened Jewel's wound and she saw no way to change it. Quietly and with haste she made her exit.

Her eyes still affixed to the closed door, Dawn muttered, "Methinks our mother mixed up our dates of birth, for I swear she must be younger. At times, she babbles like an infant."

"Don't be angered by her innocence, Dawn," Jewel said softly. "She only says what others whisper."

"What others? Those of lesser rank whose envy colors their thoughts?" Dawn disputed. "Name them so that I may put your worries aside when I discredit their worthiness."

A soft smile creased the smooth lines on Jewel's face. "His own father?"

Dawn's chin sagged with the news and she realized no argument would sound firm. "You did not mention this before."

"I have not known you long enough for you to learn all my secrets," Jewel said with a laugh, turning away from the window to stand near the blaze in the hearth. "I came to court but four weeks past."

"Then will you tell me now so I may better understand?"

Jewel looked at her friend, her eyes reflecting the golden lights of the fire, and smiled. "Yea, if you wish. But it shall be for your ears alone. Until we are wed and I learn for myself, I will not bend to the laying on of charges by others." Turning away to sit down in the high-backed chair next to Dawn, Jewel presented a most striking profile, and though the lady herself had little knowledge of this, Dawn reaffirmed her decision that this young maiden was by far the most beautiful in court, even more so than Lady Gwynne.

"My father and Lord Ryland, my betrothed's father, had been friends from childhood since the lands of their fathers joined. Lord Ryland shared alt-his secrets with my father and I must assume he would not recite a falsehood," she began, staring into the flames. "My betrothed's mother died when he was but a babe and thus he never felt the love of a woman. Lord Ryland realized the need for his son to have such affection and, beset by his own loneliness, he married again two years later— Lady Edlyn of Hardwin in northern England. My father and mother were not yet wed then, but from the few times Lord Ryland spoke of it, my mother learned that this second marriage was not one of mutual love. It was rumored she had a lover!'

"'Tis not uncommon, Jewel, for both to take lovers," Dawn contradicted softly.

Amber-hued eyes smiled over at her. "Yea, but not always fact. My father and mother hold no affection in their hearts for any other." Jewel watched the flames again. "Lady Edlyn did, and when her lover scorned her, she became very bitter. And when her own son, Radolf, was born, she placed him above her stepson. Many times Lord Ryland would take sides against his firstborn, poisoned as he was by his wife's trickery, and as my betrothed grew from childhood, his heart hardened against the ways of women."

Reaching out, Dawn touched her friend's hand. "But you are not that way, Jewel. You are kind, truthful, devoted. You've proven that with each day that passes and you seek no other for companionship."

A gentle smile deepened the dimple at one corner of Jewel's mouth. "Because J will not shame the name of Harcourt. I love my father and mother and will see their wishes fulfilled." A slight coloring darkened Jewel's fair complexion. "But it does not mean my eyes are blind to the feast of handsomeness."

Dawn laughed gaily. "And you prove you are a mortal being."

"More than you think, my friend," Jewel sighed. "There are many times when I wonder if my life would have found happier moments had I been the simpleminded milkmaid I dubbed Gwynne. Then I would be free to choose a husband and do so out of love."

"Can you deny the possibility that one day you might find such feelings for your betrothed?" Dawn challenged lightly. "Methinks even the hardest of hearts would soften when set upon by your gentleness and beauty."

"Beauty?" Jewel laughed. "Tis clear the lack of food has left you addled. What beauty I possess will never turn appraising eyes, much less a heart of stone." A slender hand lifted an auburn lock of hair from her shoulder. "It catches the color of the fire and is much too thick." Accusing fingers trailed the trim figure. "And I'm much too thin in places and full in others. Nay"—she shook her head—"methinks a gallant knight would choose a fair maiden, one tall in stature with exquisite beauty, who is quick of tongue and more knowledgeable than I."

"As Gwynne?" Dawn asked, one brow raised.

"Yea, as Gwynne."

"Then 'tis you who is faint, for I have seen many men, young and old, turn to watch you pass. Your thoughts are always elsewhere and thus you fail to note their silent compliments." She scooted forward in her chair. "Why, pray tell, does Gwynne scorn you, set lies in your head about your betrothed and the comeliness you alone possess? Methinks she is jealous."