Edward grinned as two maids carried a tray to laybefore him. Two swans, roasted and re-feathered, their long necks crossed and adorned with small jewels, sat upon the wood.
"You've done well, Langley!"
Eleanor leaned over her husband. "I'd suggest Lady Gillian is the one who should be thanked. She advised us her cooks had something special prepared. 'Tis lovely!"
The king glanced at Royce's wife, whose cheeks flushed pink with her pleased smile.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal as well."
Royce frowned. While he appreciated her comportment, he wondered what had caused her subdued manner. Was it the presence of the king and queen that had pulled the sass and fire right out of her? Or was it because of his anger, for she clearly felt it. Did she truly fear him? Oddly, the idea bothered him. He shouldn't care. He liked the way she warily watched him. His dick hardened every time apprehension clouded her eyes.
Or was her demeanor nothing more than an act? He recalled the way Anne had easily composed herself to appear demure when necessary. Did his wife share the same skill?
He discounted the idea almost immediately. She was nothing like Anne. Or was he wrong? The idea stirred his anger again. He gave her a glance. She watched him, her violet eyes wide and hopeful. He said nothing and turned back to Edward.
***
Gillian took a long drink of ale. Her husband had grown so cold suddenly. She wished she knew why. The few moments this morn, when he'd assured her all would be well; he'd seemed to show some genuine care. What had changed?
Was it possible...? Nay. He couldn't know where she'd gone earlier. Besides, he would have said something long ere now. He didn't hesitate to accuse her at any other time, why should this time be any different?
If she admitted the real truth, she worried what it might mean for this eve, when they were alone. He seemed to enjoy finding the tiniest reasons to claim she needed punishment. At least the king and queen were pleased with her efforts. That should convince her husband she deserved at least some level of respect.
God's bones, why did it hurt so much? She wanted to please him, but it seemed no matter what she did, 'twould never happen. Physically was the only way she knew he was gratified with her. If only she could find some way to carry that over to his feelings toward her.
She caught Simon's gaze and offered a small smile. Amid the raucous gaiety in the hall, she felt strangely subdued and it appeared her brother did as well. She picked a bite of the swan and chewed, but tasted nothing. The night seemed to drag on, and she wanted nothing more than to escape the din and retire to her chamber. Her former chamber, the one she'd used before...
She took another drink of ale. Royce's hand on her arm startled her and she almost spilled the goblet in her attempt to place it on the table.
"I don't want you sotted tonight."
His low voice warned of danger and delight. A shiver passed over her.
"I am not, my lord."
"Good. 'Twill soon be time to retire."
She nodded, unable to find her voice. There was both threat and promise in his words. While her mind worried, her body anticipated. She pressed her thighs together, trying to quell the need that built between them.
Fancy tarts and custards, puddings and fruits were brought out for the final course. Honey stewed fruits, normally her favorite, looked unappealing and bland. She looked around the hall, as if watching the gaiety from a distance. She certainly felt no part of it and turned again. One of Eleanor's ladies approached Simon. The interest both held for each other warmed Gillian's heart. Mayhap he could find someone who cared for him. At least one ofthem should be so lucky.
She glanced again at her husband. He paid her no notice, deep in conversation with the king. Surely they planned some strategy to capture the rest of the Welsh rebels. She sighed.
It seemed no more than a few minutes passed when the king stood to bid the celebrants good night. Once he and the queen had left, everyone else followed suit. She gave her brother a small wave as he headed for the barracks.
Soon, only she and Royce remained as the servants set about clearing the hall. She raised her gaze to his. A tremor slid along her spine. He stared intently, heat and menace both clear in his tawny eyes. He held out his hand.
"Come."
Why did she feel as if she were about to face her doom?
Chapter Ten
Royce felt his wife's terror as he led her up the stairs. Good. She clearly knew something was amiss. She would know exactly what soon enough. He opened the door and waited for her to enter before stepping inside and closing and barring the portal.
"My lord, what troubles you?"
"Why do you think something troubles me?"
