seemed harmless and plausible, it nevertheless implied disrespect.
Unfortunately, because she was a woman and a guest, and considering the reason she was here, she was in no position to voice her true feelings, so she silently accepted the goblet of wine Lloyd ap Iolo held out to her.
The young man walked to the chair and sat upon it as if he were a king upon his throne. “I apologize for any distress this mistake may have caused you,” he said, not looking the least bit sorry. “Perhaps you’ll be so kind as to explain why you’ve come to Llanpowell, Lord Alfred.”
“I’ve been trying to,” the Norman nobleman snarled.
“I’m at your disposal, my lord,” Madoc ap Gruffydd replied with exaggerated politeness.
Again she felt as if they were being treated with contempt, and her indignation increased.
Lord Alfred clearly felt that way, too, but he answered with the civility of a man used to the hypocrisy of the court. “King John is grateful for your help defeating the rebellion planned by Wimarc de Werre.”
Lord Alfred then paused, as if giving Lord Madoc time to appreciate the king’s magnanimity.
“His gratitude I can do without,” Lord Madoc remarked instead. “What about the payment I was promised?” His glance flicked to Roslynn and his lips jerked up into a disdainful smile. “Are you about to tell me Lady Roslynn is my reward?”
Roslynn flushed, but met his scornful gaze steadily. “As a matter of fact, my lord, I am.”
She had the brief satisfaction of seeing the arrogant lord of Llanpowell look as stunned as she’d felt when she found out who he was.
“Lady Roslynn and her dowry are indeed your reward,” Lord Alfred clarified.
“Dowry? Did he say dowry?” Lloyd ap Iolo asked as his nephew stared at Roslynn like a man who’d been struck over the head with a heavy object.
“Her dowry consists of eight hundred marks in silver and jewels, as well as many fine household goods,” Lord Alfred added.
Madoc ap Gruffydd launched himself out of his chair as if he’d been set ablaze. “I was promised money for my aid, not a wife! I want no wife, especially one chosen by another man.”
Hope surged through Roslynn. He was going to refuse! She would be spared another terrible marriage and the king couldn’t blame her.
Lord Alfred rose, nearly apoplectic with ire. “How dare you reject—?”
He took a deep breath and got his rage under control. “Think wisely, Welshman, before you reject what King John so generously offers. It is Lady Roslynn and her dowry, or nothing.”
“Be reasonable, Madoc,” his uncle urged. “That’s a lot of money, that dowry, and it’s time you married again.”
Again?
“And although you’ve got one son already, more would be better.”
He had a son?
“I don’t marry at any man’s command, or to breed children,” Lord Madoc replied, “and I won’t have any woman forced to marry me, either.”
As if a woman’s wishes could possibly matter to a man like him.
“Lady Roslynn is not being forced,” Lord Alfred said, turning toward her. “Tell him, my lady. Tell him that you came here of your own free will and you’ll marry him of your own free will.”
Roslynn would much rather have kept silent and let them argue, but since she had been appealed to, she answered truthfully. “I was not threatened or starved or tortured until I agreed to this proposal. However, it was do as the king bid, or stay at his court, and I was very keen to leave it.”
“My lady!” Lord Alfred gasped, as if no one had ever wished to be away from the king and his court before.
She ignored the Norman who had brought her here, treating her as little better than a box or barrel, and addressed the Welsh lord and his uncle. “I would have agreed to anything if it meant I could leave the court.
“I am also still a young woman and I desire a home and children. I’m well aware that as a traitor’s widow, I will be no man’s first choice, so I acquiesced to the king’s command and hoped for the best.
“But you should know, my lord, that this offer costs John nothing. The dowry is not even as much as I brought into my first marriage. All that money and property became my husband’s, and thus forfeit to the crown when he was convicted and executed for treason. John adds nothing of his own. The king sends me to you as he would a worn gown to a beggar.”
Lord Alfred looked as if he might explode. “My lady! That’s not—”
“It is the truth, my lord, and we both know it,” she firmly interrupted. She folded her hands in her lap, feigning a serenity she certainly didn’t feel. “I would have Lord Madoc know it, too.”
As the Welsh nobleman studied her, she grew warm, and it was not from embarrassment. He was an attractive, handsome man, even if he had a hot temper, hair to his shoulders like a savage and dressed little better than one of his men-at-arms.
In that, he was the opposite of Wimarc, who had worn the finest silks and expensive fabrics and kept his hair in the smooth Norman fashion. Wimarc never looked as if he’d just returned from riding hell-bent across the open moor.
“I appreciate your honesty, my lady,” Lord Madoc said, his lips curving up a little, his tone somewhat conciliatory, “although you underestimate yourself. You are a far cry from a worn garment.”
That little hint of a smile and his compliment could not touch her. His deep voice could not affect her. She would not be tempted by this man, no matter how he looked or spoke. She would fight the arousal that bloomed within her, the same weakness that had led her eagerly into an evil man’s arms. Nor would she respond to his flattery.
“What will happen to the lady if we don’t marry?” Lord Madoc asked Lord Alfred.
“We shall both return to court to inform John of your refusal,” the Norman tensely answered.
“No, we will not, my lord.”
Roslynn had foreseen this eventuality and had already decided what she must and would do, whether Lord Alfred approved or not. “You and my dowry may return, Lord Alfred, but I would rather give myself to the church than go back to the king’s court.”
Lord Alfred stared at her as if this was the most outrageous proposal in the world. “But the king—”
“Should have no cause to complain. I have done what he commanded. If Lord Madoc rejects me, the king cannot say I disobeyed. If you fear to return without me, tell John I fell into melancholy and only the promise of a life as a bride of Christ could revive my spirits. No doubt the return of my dowry will help to ease any other disappointment he may feel.”
The lord of Llanpowell resumed his seat. “It appears the lady and I are in agreement, at least on this point. We will neither of us marry simply because King John wishes it.”
Lord
