bothers you.”
“Because I don’t care whether Hildegard likes me or not,” Adelaide truthfully replied. Only the king’s opinion of her mattered, as he was the one who held power over her fate, as well as that of her sisters.
Eloise still looked upset, so Adelaide sought to lighten her mood. “Randall FitzOsbourne was watching you dance last night.”
Eloise’s head shot up like an eager puppy’s, and then she flushed and looked down at the stone walk at her feet. “Oh, I don’t think so. He must have been looking at someone else.”
“He certainly was looking at you,” Adelaide assured her. “Perhaps tonight you should speak to him.”
“I couldn’t! What would I say? He’ll think I’m being too forward.”
“I doubt that. You’re the most modest woman at court. I’m sure he likes you. Unfortunately, he’s as shy and modest and unassuming as you are. Perhaps if you were to speak to him first—”
“I just couldn’t! Besides,” Eloise woefully continued, “since his friend’s arrived, he probably won’t even remember I exist.”
“What friend is this?” Adelaide asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the excitement that coursed through her. As far as she knew, there was only one new arrival at court—the man she’d met in the stables. She’d heard of no others.
“Lord Armand de Boisbaston,” Eloise said. “You weren’t here when he was last at court, or I’m sure you’d remember him. He’s a very handsome man.”
That had to be the knight she’d met in the stable. “I think I may have seen him,” Adelaide said, oddly reluctant to tell Eloise about her encounter with the man in the stable. “Does he have long hair?”
“My maid said it’s nearly to his shoulders. Marguerite was fluttering about like a loosed pigeon when she told me about him. Wait until the ladies of the court hear he’s come back. They’ll be just the same. I wonder why he hasn’t cut his hair, though. He used to be quite neat and tidy in his appearance before he went to Normandy. Did you think he was handsome?”
“Yes.”
“I’m surprised it’s taken him so long to return to court. He’s been free for weeks now.”
“Free?” Adelaide prompted, remembering the scars on his wrist.
Eloise lowered her voice to a whisper. “He commanded one of John’s castles in Normandy. They were besieged for months waiting for reinforcements, but John never sent any. Lord Armand finally surrendered when the French king threatened to fire the town and kill everyone in it. Afterward, Lord Armand and the knights who were with him, as well as their squires, were imprisoned until ransoms could be paid. Those who paid quickly were freed in a fortnight or so. Others weren’t so fortunate. It took months for Lord Armand’s friends to raise the funds. His family’s estate was left rather barren after equipping an older half brother to go on crusade with Richard the Lionheart. The poor fellow died before he even reached the Holy Land. Lord Armand’s younger half brother is still imprisoned in Normandy waiting to be ransomed.”
“He has…had…two half brothers?”
Eloise nodded. “Raymond de Boisbaston had three legitimate sons by two different mothers, and from what I’ve heard, probably a few bastards, as well.”
“If the son resembles his father, I can understand why women would be eager to go to his bed,” Adelaide mused aloud, thinking of Lord Armand’s smile and bewitching brown eyes.
Eloise nodded at the courtiers playing bowls. “The other unmarried noblemen aren’t going to be happy that Lord Armand has returned.”
“He has no wife then?”
Eloise shook her head.
Adelaide tried not to be pleased, or relieved, by that knowledge. After all, marriage was something to be avoided, unless she wanted to be subject to a man’s whims and commands, and treated as less important than his dogs or his horses. She would have no man beating her for birthing “useless” girls instead of sons.
And if he were handsome and had a voice that seemed to promise pleasures that were surely sinful, he would surely never be faithful.
“Maybe John will give him a well-dowered wife as a reward for his loyalty and suffering,” Eloise suggested. “Then he could use the dowry to ransom his brother. Maybe that’s why he’s come to court.”
“Perhaps,” Adelaide agreed, glad she’d been implying that her family was relatively poor by dressing simply. The only jewelry she wore was her mother’s crucifix. It was old, and although made of gold and emeralds, it was a modest piece compared to the jewellery other ladies of the court flaunted.
“Oh, how unfortunate!” Lady Hildegard cried as Lord Richard rolled his ball and missed. “The ground must be uneven, or I’m sure you would have won.”
“Too bad, Richard. You nearly had me,” Sir Francis de Farnby, the winner of the game, said with self-satisfied triumph. He was more attractive than Lord Richard, with fair hair, broad shoulders and a narrow waist; however, like Lord Richard, he was well aware of his personal attributes and his family’s wealth and prestige. He was the sort of man who expected everyone to be as impressed with him as he was with himself.
Adelaide stifled a frown as he sauntered toward them.
“Ah, my lady, I feared the fairies had captured you and taken you for their own this morning,” he said when he reached them, ignoring Eloise. “You seemed to vanish into thin air.”
It was all Adelaide could do not to roll her eyes and tell him she would vanish from his sight right now if she possessed the power. “No doubt you missed Lady Eloise, too. Are we not fortunate she’s feeling better?”
Francis glanced at Eloise, who gave him the sort of benevolent smile she reserved for very small children and very stupid adults.
“Yes, of course,” he said, turning back to Adelaide, and quite oblivious to Eloise’s lack of admiration. “Where did you go? I searched high and low for you. I nearly called out the guard.”
“I went to the stable.”
“If you wished to ride out, my lady, you had but to ask. I would gladly have accompanied you.”
No doubt he would have tried to get her off her horse, the better to seduce her, too.
“I wasn’t dressed for riding and that wasn’t my purpose,” she replied. “I find the company of horses soothing.”
The kittens had been an unexpected source of amusement, and as for the arrival of Lord Armand de Boisbaston…
“I doubt the horses appreciate your exquisite beauty and grace as much as I,” Francis said, his tone softly flattering and his expression adoring.
Oh, God save her from fawning, foolish—
“By all the devils above and below, if it isn’t Sir Francis de Farnby,” a slightly raspy, familiar male voice declared nearby.
Adelaide’s
