Always Read Online Free Page B

straightened his shoulders as he did so. “My daughter, Rosamunde. Daughter, your husband, Aric of Burkhart”
    â€œHow do you do, my lord?” she murmured politely, extending her hand. Then, grimacing apologetically as she saw its less than pristine condition—it was stained with residue from her recent work with the foaling—she retracted it and dropped into a quick curtsy instead. “I regret my apparel, but we were not expecting company today.”
    Before Aric could even murmur a polite response, the king announced, “You should change.”
    Her head whipped around. “Change?”
    â€œAye. You will not wish to be wed looking so.”
    â€œThe wedding is to take place now?” Dismay was the only word to describe her reaction, and Aric could actually sympathize. It was all a bit dismaying to him as well.
    â€œAs soon as you are changed. I must return to Chinon.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œSee her properly dressed,” the king ordered Sister Eustice, then snatched up Adela’s arm and urged her out of the building. “I would have a word with the abbess.”
    Rosamunde gaped after them, then glanced at Eustice with a start when the sister took her arm and urged her to follow. “I am to be married.”
    â€œAye.” Eustice glanced worriedly at the girl as they stepped out of the stables. The child was unnaturally pale.
    â€œI thought I was going to be a nun like you.”
    â€œEverything will be fine,” Eustice murmured reassuringly, directing her through the convent doors and down the hallway to the left. King Henry and Adela were already out of sight.
    â€œAye,” Rosamunde agreed, drawing herself up slightly. “All will be well.” Then her shoulders slumped, and she whispered bewilderedly, “But I was to be a nun.”
    â€œIt would seem you were never truly meant to take the veil.”
    â€œOh, but I was,” Rosamunde assured her. “My mother wished it so. She told the abbess. And my father never arranged a betrothal. I was born to be a nun.”
    â€œIt would seem not,” Eustice corrected gently.
    â€œBut what if the Lord wants me to take the veil? What if he is angered that I am not to be one?”
    â€œâ€™Tis more likely the good Lord has his own plans for you, Rosamunde. Else He would have stopped your father from arriving until after it was done. Would He not?”
    Frowning, Rosamunde tilted her head to consider that. Sister Eustice continued, “It seems to me that it must have been God Himself who led your father here in time to prevent the ceremony. Were your father even a day later in arriving, the ceremony would have been done by now.”
    â€œAye,” Rosamunde murmured uncertainly. “But why would God wish me to marry when there is so much good I might do as a nun?”
    â€œMayhap He has something more important for you to do as a wife.”
    â€œMayhap,” she murmured, but it was obvious by her tone that she was having trouble fathoming that possibility.
    Sighing to herself, Eustice urged her into moving along the hall again, managing to get her to the small cell that had been Rosamunde’s room since childhood. Ushering the bemused girl inside, Eustice urged her to sit onthe side of her tiny, hard bed, then turned to search through the girl’s small clothes chest for the dress Rosamunde had made to wear while taking the veil the next day. Coming up empty-handed, she whirled to frown at Rosamunde. “Where is your white gown?”
    Rosamunde glanced up distractedly. “White gown? Oh, Sister Margaret offered to hang it for me, to let out any wrinkles.”
    â€œAh.” Nodding, Eustice turned toward the door. “Wait here. I shall return directly.”
    Rosamunde watched the door close behind her friend and mentor, then sank back on the bed with a sigh. She was having difficulty absorbing what was happening. Just that morning, her