“Our host . . . host’s daughter told me that ’tis customary,” Jervois went on, slurring his words badly, “to give your bride a gift on her wedding day.”
Radulf stared back at him. How could he have been so dim-witted as not to comprehend he needed a bauble to present to his wife-to-be?
Women, as he was well aware, were very fond of baubles. His father’s money had soon dribbled away on the purchasing of jewels and pretty things for his second wife, and all the while, eyes gleaming, she had demanded more.
The memory caused Radulf’s expression to harden. No, he decided stubbornly, there would be no bride gift. She was getting the rich and powerful Lord Radulf, wasn’t she? She should be content with that!
He said so aloud, ignoring Jervois’s disapproving tut-tuts.
“Sh . . . she won’t see it that way. She’ll feel sl . . . slighted. Women always feel sl . . . slighted over the little things.”
Radulf scowled. “Whether she feels slighted or not is a matter of complete indifference to me.”
Jervois tried to focus his eyes. “Make you miserable,” he said at last. “No talk, no smiles, no bed.”
Radulf’s scowl deepened.
Defeated, his captain walked away, weaving slightly from side to side. “Both as st . . . stubborn as mules,” he muttered darkly to himself. “God grant I never have a wife!”
When the morning came, and Una told Lily there was a gift for her, her heart soared.
The idea that, after all that had passed between them, the breach could be healed with a mere bauble was ridiculous. And yet Lily’s spirits lifted with her heart. The gift must be a gesture of truce.
The next moment, Una dashed all her eager hopes.
“A manservant brought it, my lady. It comes from Lady Kenton and is a gift, her man says, for you to wear at your wedding.”
When a disconsolate Lily had unraveled the carefully wrapped bundle, she found inside the most beautiful gown. She could not help her gasp of wonder. Cut from heavy silk cloth, the gown was a sumptuous golden color and embroidered all over with fine gold and silver threads. The ac-companying chemise and veil were as fine as a spider’s web on a spring morn. A pair of pointy-toed shoes, the same golden color as the gown, completed the outfit.
It was a dress fit for a queen—or at least a Viking princess’s daughter. Speechless, Lily touched the cloth with trembling fingers. Una had no such trepidation, and lifted the dress up against her mistress. She gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. “Oh, lady, you will be an angel!”
Lily smiled, but her eyes were no longer dreamy. “This Lady Kenton is most generous, Una, but perhaps it would be best if I sent back her dress. Lord Radulf has not given me permission to wear another’s clothes. I can only think he wishes me to wear the clothes I have.”
Una narrowed her eyes, hearing the note of disappointment in Lily’s voice. She had become fond of Lily, admiring her courage and even more admiring her kindness to those of lesser standing than herself—in short, girls like Una. Her father, the innkeeper, said Lily was proud and cold, but Una did not believe that was so. It was all pretense, just as Una sometimes pretended to be what she was not.
She did not want to see Lily unhappy on her wedding day just because that surly giant Radulf had failed to buy her something nice for a bride gift. Last night Una had tried planting the thought in his captain’s thick ear, but to no avail. Now she must use more direct methods. “Send it back and insult her?” Her shrill cry at least gained her Lily’s full attention. “No, lady,” she went on more softly, “you must wear it.”
“Must I?”
“Oh yes. And you will see, Lord Radulf will not mind. Why, he will not be able to say a word, for he will be struck dumb at the sight of you!”
Una watched a glimmer of speculation light up Lily’s gray eyes. That Lily should care for such a frightening man amazed her, but it was obviously so. He would not be Una’s choice, goodness me, no! There was a boy in the next street who sold fish . . . but there was no time for such daydreams now. Una had decided Lily would be happy on her wedding day, and happy she would be!
Lily did not argue as Una helped her to don the gown. The thought of Radulf struck dumb by the sight of his bride was a temptation too great for her to resist. When she was dressed, Una combed out her hair so that it hung loose about her in a veil finer and fairer than any cloth. The gold brought a warmth to Lily’s pale skin, and with a touch of red at her lips, it was easy enough to overlook the shadows under her eyes.
Una stepped back to peruse her handiwork.
“You are a wondrous fair bride, lady,” she breathed reverently.
“ ’Tis the dress,” Lily murmured. “Such a gown would turn any woman into a beauty.”
She hardly heard Una’s protests. Now that it was time to appear before her bridegroom, Lily was very nervous. She knew she must pretend at haughtiness, enclose herself once more in the ice cage, but such pretense was difficult on her marriage day.
Radulf had released her from the cage, but it seemed that he still held the key.
“Lady?” Una was at the door, eyes bright, eager to show her off.
Lily gathered the stiff, heavy folds of her skirt in her hands, lifting the hem above her matching shoes so that she did not trip. You have faced Vorgen, she reminded herself, and you have faced King William. There is no need to be afraid of Radulf.
