Forbidden Lord Read Online Free

mother’s sufferingsbefore her death, Eleanor always avoided the issue through a personal wish to remain single for as long as possible, but she knew she would have to consider the matter when her aunt returned from France.
    As she danced her eyes were caught by Sir Richard, who was lounging indolently in his chair, watching them with his peculiar intentness—in particular Martin—over the rim of his goblet until his scrutiny made Eleanor feel uncomfortable and intensely irritated. She saw his hand reach out and surreptitiously caress the rump of a young page, whilst keeping his gaze on Martin with every indication of interest.
    The young page flinched and glanced at Sir Richard, startled, but Sir Richard seemed totally unaware of him as he continued to stare at Martin. Curiously troubled by the act, Eleanor frowned as she watched the page scurry away out of reach.
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    â€˜None of the men can keep their eyes off you,’ Catherine remarked pettishly during a lull in the dancing as they listened to Harry, the fool, strumming his lute and baring his soul in a troubadour’s song.
    Catherine hadn’t been too disturbed until lately by her stepsister’s popularity with the opposite sex as she had grown to young womanhood, but now, as she had observed the fresh-skinned, laughing dancing girl pirouetting with first this adoring partner, and then that, her amber eyes shining like lustrous candles and her honey-gold hair, which she wore loose beneath her hood as if to flaunt her youth and maiden-hood, bouncing down her slender spine, a surge of jealousy chilled her blood.
    â€˜You are old enough to marry, Eleanor. I suspect Father will be looking to one of them for a husband before the winter’s out.’
    Hearing the barb that curled behind Catherine’s words, though her tone was pleasant enough, while sipping spiced wine from a pewter cup, Eleanor put it down and looked at her squarely. ‘Your father and Aunt Matilda both. When thetime comes it will be a convenient arrangement—like yours to Henry, and I hope I will be given a say over my own marriage partner.’
    How smug and confident Eleanor sounded, Catherine thought with annoyance. ‘How childish you are, Eleanor, to think you are strong enough to stand against my father. When he finds you a husband, the marriage will go ahead whatever your whims and fancies, so you’d best resign yourself to it.’
    â€˜My feelings must be regarded—I shall insist on it, and before any marriage is contracted, my aunt will have to be consulted.’
    â€˜Say what you like,’ Catherine uttered with an inward snigger, ‘but my father will not be overruled.’
    Despite her harsh words it was a source of irritation that Catherine was forced to admire her stepsister’s striking looks and the proud set of her face, which was a defiant gesture and not in the least childish.
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    When the dancing was about to resume, no one heard the sound of clattering hooves from the courtyard in front of the house. A few moments later the door was flung open to admit two newcomers, travel stained from riding far.
    One of the men paused to carefully assess his surroundings. Ignoring the servant who approached to enquire his business, with his gloved hand on the hilt of his sword and his sodden cloak swept back over his broad shoulders, he climbed the cantilevered shallow staircase to the great hall followed by his companion. The music and loud laughter streamed forth, drowning out the sound his close-fitting leather thigh boots made on the wooden stairs.
    In the entrance to the hall he paused and calmly surveyed the scene. It was lively and colourful, packed tight as any barrel of herrings, with liveried servants bearing great platters of steaming food. Hundreds of candles flared and wavered and smoked. Lords and ladies slouched or sprawled at tableslittered with food and flagons and goblets of wine and spilled ale. Wolfhounds and