Page 42 of Hers To Command
Her husband, however, was looking at Roald as if he’d never been more bored in his life, or perhaps it was only the effect of that slightly drooping eyelid.
“We understand you have some important business to discuss,” the king said.
“Yes, Your Majesty, I do, concerning the estate of my late uncle.” Ignoring the other courtiers, and mindful not to overtax the royal mind, he quickly told them of his uncle’s illness, the illegal change to his will and his cousins’ subsequent outrageous behavior.
“And thus, Your Majesty, my cousins refuse to relinquish the estate, although it should be mine,” he concluded.
He was pleased to note that the king, as well as the queen, was now regarding him with interest. “We have heard of this estate,” the king remarked. “Well situated, prosperous, although the late lord was rather…eccentric.”
“Indeed he was,” Roald confirmed.
“And his daughters…one of them is quite a beauty,” the queen added.
Roald guessed where this was headed. He also noted that several of the courtiers, who’d been paying little heed to the conversation, suddenly turned their attention toward the throne.
“Lovely, but not so beautiful or gracious as Your Majesty,” Roald replied. “Her dowry is considerable, however. Of course, I fully intend to abide by my uncle’s original will, in which he made ample provision for his daughters’ dowries.”
“There is more than one daughter?” the king asked, raising the royal brow.
“Yes, Majesty, but I fear the younger would be no reward to anyone in marriage. She is a shrew, and ugly, too, and I’m certain she is the one who came up with this contemptible scheme to rob me.”
“Yet she will be well dowered?” the queen inquired.
“If any man could be found to take her,” Roald replied. “I should mention that their father also allowed that should either of his daughters decide to become a bride of Christ, their dowry would go to the church.”
The queen’s eyes gleamed at that, no doubt contemplating the amount of ecclesiastical influence she could wield with such a sum at her disposal to be dispersed as she decided. At the moment, she needed all the ecclesiastical influence she could get if she was to get her rogue of an uncle confirmed as archbishop. “Is this girl likely to follow that course?” she asked.
“When I possess Ecclesford, my lady, I would most strongly urge her to do so. It could be either that, or a marriage that she will not find to her liking.”
While the queen didn’t look at all nonplused by that suggestion, the king’s brows furrowed. “We do not like to hear of women being threatened into marriage.”
Roald spread his hands in supplication and gave them a wide-eyed, innocent look. “On my honor as a knight, I would never force her into a marriage or the church, Your Majesty. But she is as stubborn as she is shrewish, and thus may require some extra…guidance.”
“This other sister—the beauty,” the king remarked, leaving the subject of Mathilde mercifully alone. “She’s never been to court?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Roald replied, noting the queen’s sharp glance at her young husband. “Her father lived almost a hermit’s life.”
“Perhaps we should meet your cousins.”
“I think not, my love,” the queen said softly, putting her hand on her husband’s knee and smiling sweetly. “We have enough to do here. We must arrange your brother’s marriage, for one thing. And this beauty might be too distracting to the young men of the court. You don’t want to have any wars breaking out over a woman.”
“No, we don’t,” he agreed.
Roald had to admire the ease with which the queen manipulated her husband.
“The only woman in England capable of being a second Helen, Your Majesty, is yourself,” he said with a courteous bow.
The queen darted him a glance, as if he should have kept his mouth shut. Roald flushed, and decided he’d better be more careful. His royal relative’s temper was not something to be roused without risk.
“While we agree there is good reason for you to dispute your late uncle’s will,” the king said, “these matters are for the courts to decide. You must await their judgment.”
The queen shifted with agitation, and Roald could guess why. She would rather the distribution of land and estates belonged to the king alone, assisted by the helpful advice of his queen, of course.
In this instance, so did he. He didn’t trust the English and their laws, and certainly not their courts.
Nevertheless, that was the way it was in this barbarous land, so he had best proceed cautiously, careful lest he anger the king. “I am aware that the courts have such power, Majesty,” he said, “but if it is known you support my claim to the estate, that will surely carry great weight with those who will stand in judgment.”
“And we do think you should possess it,” the queen confirmed, much to Roald’s delight.
