Page 41 of Hers To Command
Henry had been given many compliments in his life, some of them deserved. He had been admired and his body craved, and his martial skills occasionally acknowledged. But never had any words of praise made him feel both proud and unworthy at the same time as Mathilde’s did tonight.
“I would I were a better one,” he said quietly, and sincerely. He knew well what he was, and that he wasn’t deserving of such admiration. “I’m no paragon, Mathilde, or even that fine a knight. I may have some skill in battle because I was well taught. Otherwise, I’m vain and arrogant, proud of my looks and my body, just as you realized that first day. I’ve been envious of my brother’s accomplishments, and bitter that my friends were so quick to believe I would betray them. I’ve lusted after many women. I’ve cuckolded husbands and told myself that if their wives were willing, it was no sin of mine, although in my heart, I knew better. I’m not worthy to be anyone’s champion, Mathilde.”
And in his heart, he felt the truth of what he’d said. He’d wasted too much of his life, spent too much time in frivolous pursuits. For the first time in his life, he looked at himself with brutally honest eyes—her eyes—and saw himself for what he truly was, what his brother had always said, a merry wastrel.
“Who does not feel envy?” she asked in a gentle whisper, her voice a balm. “I’ve long been envious of Giselle’s beauty, and bitter that no man looked at me as they did at her. I was even jealous when I realized you were right, and that Cerdic loves her, even though I don’t love him. Is that not the height of selfishness?
“And you speak of your lust. What did I feel for Roald but lust? I know now it wasn’t love. And I was vain and foolish, too, believing his empty flattery.”
Henry put his finger against her lips to tenderly silence her. “You wanted to be loved. Who does not?”
“Other women do not put themselves in harm’s way as I did.”
“That was a mistake, and you have suffered the most for it. I could name other women who had sinned far more grievously than you, Mathilde, and never been punished, except perhaps by their conscience, if they possessed any.”
“Roald—”
He pulled her close and embraced her. “Is a coward and a base, despicable villain. Mathilde, I cannot erase what happened to you that night and I would give much to make you forget, but in my eyes, you are not the lesser for what happened. You are not tainted, or stained—heis. I’ve known many women in my life, Mathilde, and made love to more than one, yet I swear to you on my life I’ve never felt about a single one of them as I feel about you. It’s more than desire, more than affection. I’ve never respected another woman as I do you, or admired one more. Mathilde, I’ve never told another woman I loved her. I—”
She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “Say no more, Henry!” she cried as if he’d struck her instead of being about to tell her that he loved her.
Then she turned on her heel and fled.
KEEPING TOthe shadows, skirting the green, Mathilde ran back to Ecclesford. She could hardly see for her tears, breathe for her sobs.
She never should have stayed with Henry in the dark. Never should have kissed him. Never should have listened to his words of love.
Henry mustn’t love her. He deserved a virgin bride with wealth and a vast estate, the best England had to offer.
Not a woman who’d been raped by Roald de Sayres.
HOPING SHE’Dsimply been caught off guard by his admission and unsure what to say or do, Henry ran after Mathilde. But she disappeared in the shadows and he lost her. He studied the people around the green in the light of the bonfire and didn’t see her.
A sliver of fear lodged in his heart. Roald was an evil man, and it was very dark.
Picking up his pace, he ran to the gate. “Has Lady Mathilde returned?” he demanded of the guards who’d snapped quickly to attention when they saw him approach, and at a run.
“Aye, my lord,” the older of them replied. “A little while ago.”
Henry nodded and started through the courtyard, determined to follow her and…What? Demand an explanation? Ask her why she’d fled? She was a free woman and not bound to him by family tie or betrothal. Surely following her and pestering her with questions was not the way to proceed.
So instead, Henry went to his bedchamber, noting that the door to Mathilde and Giselle’s was closed. He disrobed, except for his breeches, and lay down upon his bed, the candle lit as always, wondering and more than half hoping she would come to him tonight.
But she did not, and when he broke the fast in the hall the next day, it was as if those kisses beneath the oak tree had never happened, and his words had gone unspoken. She was as briskly businesslike as always, and nothing in her eyes gave him any sign that things had changed between them.
He told himself that perhaps she needed time to accept that he cared so much about her, or maybe she wanted to ensure he was no fickle, faithless cad. If so, and as before, he would have to be patient and wait for her to speak.
No matter how long that might take.
CHAPTER TEN
ASHENRYwas riding down the field aiming for an iron ring, Roald was kneeling before the thrones of the king and queen, who were seated in their hall in Westminster. It had taken him several frustrating days to be admitted to the royal presence, despite his family connection to Eleanor and even the offer of bribes. But he was here at last, and although this wasn’t a private audience, there were only a few courtiers present. They were talking quietly among themselves at the far end of the paneled chamber heated by a roaring blaze in the massive fireplace, and lit by candles in polished brass holders that shone like gold.
“Your Majesty!” Roald cried, apparently enraptured as he addressed his distant cousin the queen.
“Roald,” she said sweetly, “it is always such a pleasure to see someone from home.”
“Not so much as it is a pleasure for me to see you,” he replied, rising in response to her graceful gesture.
