Page 79 of The Unwilling Bride
Seeking to avert any danger from Lord Osgoode’s assumptions, she gave him a bright smile. “I merely meant that if Earl Richard is happily wed, he will be more content, and thus more likely to remain at home, and that’s surely better for England.”
She patted Merrick on the knee. He stiffened beneath her touch, but she ignored his response to concentrate on the earl. “I wish all men and women were as happily married as my husband and I, or the king and his queen. Henry and Eleanor are very happy, are they not?” She gave Lord Osgoode a flirtatiously pert look. “And he informs her of the affairs of state, does he not? And asks her opinion, too, or so I’ve heard.”
Lord Osgoode laughed. “Touché, my lady! Yes, he does, although some would say she is too involved inthe affairs of state—but then, he is young yet and, as you say, happily in love.”
“So of course he wishes to please her in all things,” she said brightly, like the happiest of brides.
Having played her part long enough for now, she decided to decamp and leave Merrick to deal with Lord Osgoode. “As delightful as it is talking to you, my lord, I must beg your leave to be excused to see that your chambers are ready. I thought you would be too fatigued for a feast tonight in your honor, so I’ve planned one for tomorrow. I hope you approve, my lord?”
“That sounds most excellent, and I appreciate your concern for my fatigue,” Lord Osgoode replied.
“Would you care to bathe?”
“That, too, would be most welcome after my long ride.”
“Then a bath shall be prepared, and a maid sent to serve you.”
Lord Osgoode’s eyes gleamed. “I give you my thanks for your kind hospitality, my lady.”
Obviously he had one opinion of what the maid’s service would entail; Constance had another, which is why Demelza would be sent to attend him and not one of the younger maidservants.
Nevertheless, she acknowledged his gratitude with a nod of her head and left the hall to see that all was ready.
“HOW ARE YOU FEELING NOW?” Constance asked Beatrice as she entered her bedchamber after she had seen to Lord Osgoode’s comfort.
Beatrice moved to sit up against the head of her bed. She was pale, and had dark circles under her eyes. She’d been listless and very quiet the past few days, and hardly touched her food. Today she’d taken to her bed. Being busy with her duties and preparing for Lord Osgoode’s arrival, Constance had assumed it was nothing serious, but now fear hardened into a knot in her stomach. “Would you like me to send for your father? Or Maloren?”
Beatrice immediately shook her head. “Maloren’s chatter would only make me feel worse. I think a good night’s sleep would cure me completely. The willow bark potion helped. The ache in my head is nearly gone. What’s Lord Osgoode like?”
Somewhat relieved, Constance shrugged and sat on the bed at her feet. “A bit too smug for my liking, as many courtiers are.”
“What news did he bring?”
“Merrick’s been summoned to Tintagel.”
“Will you go, too?”
“I have too much to do here,” she replied, although that wasn’t precisely true. Under Alan de Vern’s supervision, the household could run quite smoothly for several days. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you to make you feel better or rest more easily?”
Beatrice looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “I can’t fall asleep, and when I do, I have terrible dreams. Then I wake before dawn and can’t get back to sleep.”
Perhaps her poor cousin was merely exhausted froma lack of sleep, Constance thought hopefully—although that was also worrisome.
“What’s troubling you? What’s upset you so much that you can’t sleep?” she asked gently, hoping it wasn’t anything to do with the absent Henry, even though she’d kept a close eye on Beatrice and seen nothing to make her suspect there was any need to worry about her honor.
Beatrice raised her eyes, and the look she gave Constance was so adult and so shrewd, Constance instinctively tensed.
“What’s happened, Constance?” she asked. “You were so happy after your wedding, but now—”
“There’s nothing the matter with me,” Constance lied. Beatrice wasn’t normally so perceptive, or at least, she hadn’t been.
“Yes, there is,” Beatrice replied fervently, her expression telling Constance that she was determined to find out what had gone wrong between her cousin and her husband.
Constance rose. She wasn’t going to discuss Merrick, or her marriage, with Beatrice, who couldn’t possibly understand. “I’m sure all marriages have their moments of disagreement and anxiety.”
To her chagrin, Beatrice threw back the covers, got out of bed and followed her. “I know you quarreled with Merrick after the hall moot, and Henry argued with Merrick before he went away, probably about you.”
“Merrick’s dispute with Henry had nothing to do with me,” Constance replied, hoping that was true as shebusied herself tidying the dressing table, although she’d never learned what they’d fought about. Merrick had never told her, and Henry hadn’t given her any reason for his sudden departure.
