“I will return to Windsor for Christmas Court. But after that, I must leave.”
She lifted his hands off her shoulders. In a cool voice, she said, “That soon?”
Good God, Linnet, give me something.He was tired of being patient and damned tired of waiting.
“Perhaps I’ll not bother returning from London at all,” he said. “It is time, after all, that I started looking for a wife.”
She turned her back to him again and looked out the window. After a long moment, she said in a tight voice, “You should be here during Christmas Court to help divert attention from Owen and the queen. They are bound to forget themselves.”
“Is it only for Owen and the queen that you wish me to return?”
With her back to him, she said, “What do you want me to say, Jamie?”
He sure as hell was not going to ask her to say it. If she did not want him, there was no use pushing her. He’d been down that road before.
He gathered his clothes from the floor and threw them on.
“I am sure you will do just as you please, as you always have,” he said as he jerked his boots on.
Anger vibrated through him as he stomped across the room and snatched his cloak from the back of the door.
“And I shall do as I please as well.” He turned with one hand on the door. “There are plenty of women in London besides Eleanor.”
He let the door slam behind him.
Chapter Eighteen
The winter afternoon light was nearly gone by the time Jamie and Martin rode through the Great Gateway of Westminster Palace. After leaving Martin in the outer ward to see to their horses, Jamie headed for the privy palace to find Bedford.
Soldiers in tunics emblazoned with the royal herald of bright blue, gold, and red stood guard outside the Painted Chamber, which served as the royal audience and bedchamber. After giving them his name and business, Jamie settled on a bench to wait. A short time later, one of the heavy double doors opened a few inches and words were exchanged between someone inside and one of the guards.
“Sir James Rayburn,” the guard said in a voice that could be heard at fifty paces. “His Grace the Duke of Bedford will see you now.”
Jamie nodded to the guard as he passed through the door. Once inside, he stopped and gaped at the room like a peasant from the country. Now he understood why the Painted Chamber, along with Saint Stephen’s Chapel, made Westminster rank as one of the most magnificent palaces in all of Europe.
The king’s state bed, a magnificent piece of furniture built for Henry III, dominated the far end of the long, narrow room. There were paintings above and around the bed, which was situated with its head against the north wall, next to the fireplace. On the east wall, several feet beyond the bed, two elegant windows overlooked the Thames.
Jamie leaned his head back to take in the wood ceiling decorated with rows of carved moldings called lobed paterae. But then his gaze was drawn to the five-and-a-half-foot-high mural of the coronation of Edward the Confessor at the head of the bed.
Jamie heard someone clear his throat and turned to find Bedford beside him. Belatedly, he made his bow. “Your Grace.”
“I take it you have not been in the Painted Chamber before,” Bedford said with a warm smile. “I’ve seen it many times, and yet I am always struck by its beauty.
“I am sure you recognize these,” Bedford said, gesturing around the room.
Jamie’s gaze followed the series of wall paintings depicting Old Testament stories, which were interspersed with inscriptions and brightly painted heraldry.
“The paintings of Virtues and Vices are my favorites,” Bedford said as he led Jamie to the paintings on the window splays on the south wall. “I am particularly fond of this one.”
Bedford pointed to the painting of a woman in chain mail and crown, who was sticking a spear into a man while choking him with a stream of coins from a long leather purse.
“The Virtue of Generosity triumphs over the Vice of Greed?” Jamie asked.
“Very good,” Bedford said with a smile.
A voice came from behind them. “Generosity is a virtue when done with a purpose.”
Jamie turned to see the duke’s uncle, resplendent in his bishop’s robes of dazzling white with elaborate gold embroidery, entering through a side door.
