The Bride Tournament Read Online Free Page B

with the wedding. She nurtured a fragile spark of hope that could become a fire. Once she and Richard were alone in the chamber she’d helped array only this morning for herself and Arthur, Eleanor would end this farce of a marriage.
    Before it couldn’t be ended.

Chapter 3

    At last all he had worked for was within reach.
    Not fond of large gatherings, Richard stood apart from the crowd enjoying his wedding feast. Richly dressed nobles jabbered, servers scurried to and fro. His bride danced with one of her cousins. He knew her happy smile was an act.
    “She surpasses the miniature portrait Edward sent you, does she not?”
    Richard tensed at the high-pitched voice. Lady Blanche Latimer. The fly in his pudding.
    “What of it?” He couldn’t be polite to her. Blanche, his erstwhile love, deceived him when he was most vulnerable, like an enemy attacking a knight while he slept. In times of war, Richard kept his sword within reach. In matters of the heart, armor forged by disloyalty now kept him just as well protected. “Did you attend my wedding because you hoped I might change my mind at the last minute?”
    “We were good together, and you know it. I regret the mistake I made,” Blanche said. “But no. I was invited with Lady Elizabeth FitzWalter, cousin to Eleanor’s father, and her son Hugh.”
    She hadn’t changed, still slender and lovely in a tight-sleeved green gown. Her cone-shaped headdress hid hair he knew to be dark red.
    “My wedding is over. Yet you remain.”
    “How could I leave without witnessing the bedding?” she asked. “You’ve been handed a beauty, and a wealthy one, too. What more could you ask?”
    He would prefer that his bride didn’t prefer his friend.
    “They say she’s as willful as I. But I know you’re up to the task of handling her.” Blanche ran her hand down his arm. He stepped away.
    She tossed her head, sending her veils afloat. Her sultry smile disappeared. “Henry and the House of Lancaster will rule again. Remember to whom you owe your loyalties, who your friends are. Those who have risen highest have farthest to fall.”
    Richard couldn’t stop the frisson of alarm whisking through him. She could be right. King Edward yet faced uprisings from those who supported Henry, the previous king. In these uncertain times, another switch in power could bring Richard down as easily as a weakened wall succumbed to a siege. He had to help Edward remain king.
    One way was to find his father’s missing alchemy scrolls. Then, if he’d discovered a formula that worked, Edward could produce the coin he sorely needed to protect and support his realm.
    With an abrupt nod, Richard rejoined his countess, who’d returned to the table.
    Arthur’s extolling of Eleanor’s beauty hadn’t prepared him for his first sight of her earlier today rushing down the winding staircase, blue skirts in both hands. She’d halted at the bottom, wavy golden hair tumbling over her shoulders to her hips.
    Her lips had been full and smiling, eyes he now knew to be violet shining. Her whole being radiated joy. She’d not yet been told of the change in grooms and so knew nothing of him. Still, it had pained him that her enthusiasm was for Arthur.
    Someday she’ll look at me that way.
    What a fool notion. What difference did it make if she cared for him? He was more than fortunate to have risen so high and to be gifted with a bride of her beauty and holdings. He looked forward to searching his new estates and learning more about their fathers’ partnership.
    Eleanor’s exquisite form and kissable lips awakened a different type of anticipation. He imagined her beneath him, awaiting his touch, hair spread over the pillows. A gossamer nightgown would hint at treasures beneath, her sweet scent….
    Soon, Richard thought. Soon.
    One didn’t need to love his wife to enjoy her. Or to give her pleasure.
    As they left the table, he smiled. Since joining Edward’s household fifteen years ago, his steadfast