All he wanted would be his.
Chapter Twenty-two
Linnet clapped with the others as the mummers cavorted through the hall in their masks. All through yuletide, there had been lavish entertainments, from dancing bears to acrobats. In the lower ward, there were cock and dog fights, which she despised, but those were easily avoided.
The sounds of harp, flute, and tabor floated down from the gallery as people milled about, stretching their legs and making conversation before the next round of entertainment.
Linnet and Queen Katherine stood side by side with their backs to the wall. Speaking in low voices, they gossiped good-naturedly about various nobles and merchants in the Great Hall.
“That young squire of Sir James’s is going to have all the ladies sighing in a year or two,” the queen remarked.
“Martin has such a pure heart. I wonder if he’ll notice?” Linnet said with a laugh. “I’ve grown quite fond of him.”
“A pure heart—likely he’s the only one in this room you could say that of,” the queen said with a sparkle in her eyes. She took Linnet’s hand and squeezed it. “ ’Tis good to see you so happy, my dear.”
It was true. Joy filled her heart and lightened her step. She had floated through the days of holiday festivities in a feathery cloud of bliss. The prospect of marriage was unexpectedly… freeing. Instead of making her feel confined, it brought her a sense of contentment.
At least it did most of the time.
But now and then, the twin vices of anger and guilt dug their talons into her. Justice had been denied her. The man responsible for ruining her grandfather’s last years still enjoyed the fruits of his thievery. He had robbed her of everything that protected her and left her at the mercy of the worst sort of men.
She thanked God every day that Jamie’s uncle Stephen had saved her and Francois. And she would never forgive her father for failing to do so. Of course, he had failed her long before that.
“When will you become formally betrothed?” the queen asked.
Linnet was grateful to the queen for diverting her. It was difficult, but she was determined to keep her word to Jamie and not dwell upon the past.
Queen Katherine, dear friend that she was, was giddy over their upcoming marriage.
“As soon as Christmas Court ends, we will travel to Ross Castle to make our betrothal pledges in the presence of his family.”
Despite Jamie’s reassurances, she felt anxious about how his parents would receive her. She had met the Fitz-Alans briefly in Normandy when she was a girl; both had seemed formidable. Once before, Jamie had led them to expect she would be his wife—only to come home empty-handed. She suspected that would be hard for a parent to forgive.
“It will be an adventure for you, living in the country and becoming part of a large family.”
“Although I used to tease Jamie about wanting this sort of life,” Linnet said with a broad smile, “it is what I want now, both for me and our children.”
It comforted her to know that her children would grow up within the protection and warmth of a large extended family.
The thought of having a child lifted her heart. It was such a hopeful act. She had never allowed herself to think of having a child before. Although she refused to admit it to Jamie or Francois, she did know her efforts involved some danger. Besides, children were about the future, and she had been absorbed with the past.
“I should like nothing better than to raise my son in the country,” the queen said with a catch in her voice. “They will take him from me again soon.”
“I am sorry for it,” Linnet said.
“At least I have Owen,” the queen said. “And a time will come when we, too, shall marry.”
“Do not speak of it here, please!” Though the queen had spoken softly, Linnet looked quickly about her to be sure no one had overheard.
The queen seemed perilously close to tears. Desperate to divert her, Linnet said, “There is that awful Lord Stafford and his daughter.”
Queen Katherine touched a kerchief to her nose. “I do hope they are not coming this way.”
“What could Bedford and the bishop have been thinking, attempting to pair Jamie with Agnes Stafford?”
“Nothing could be simpler to understand,” the queen said, in control of herself again. “Lady Agnes is a land-rich heiress, and Jamie is a strong warrior from a family with close ties to the Lancasters.”
Though Jamie had told her—repeatedly—that it was a delicate situation, it nagged at Linnet that he had not poured cold water on Stafford’s expectation of a marriage offer for his daughter. Jamie wanted to seek his parents’ counsel. His mother, he assured her, would know how he could extricate himself without damaging his family or humiliating the young lady.
