Claire Delacroix Read Online Free PDF

ensure it.”
    The older woman paled. “What nonsense is this?”
    “He will not approve of Maman inviting foreign knights to compete for my hand. Nay, not he. Indeed, he has lost too much land to the Scottish king by way of the Norman knights who have settled holdings.”
    “But...”
    “But naught, Célie. Those holdings are carved from the King of the Isles’ territory yet surrendered to foreigners by the Scottish king. Though the King of the Isles does not approve, he has few means of ousting foreign knights once their households are established here.”
    “Like your Maman and her household.”
    “Aye. And truly, now that the Scottish king is returned to the graces of the King of England, the King of the Isles must be uncertain of his territories indeed.”
    “Where did you learn so much of these matters of men?”
    Esmeraude spared the older woman a devilish grin. “I listened when I was not supposed to.” She tapped her chin with a fingertip, frowning slightly as she continued. “Nay, the King of the Isles is the only one who will save me from the invitations Maman sent to Norman knights. We shall go directly to him and entreat his aid.”
    “God in heaven.” Célie sank to a chest and crossed herself. “Never let it be said that you are timid of heart, child.”
    “Oh, Célie, you worry overmuch. The King of the Isles likes me.”
    The maid’s eyes narrowed. “In what manner does he like you?”
    Esmeraude scoffed. “He is ancient, Célie, you have naught to fear of his amorous intent. We had a pleasant conversation when last he visited Ceinn-beithe, not more than that. He oft has told me tales and brought me fripperies from afar. Perhaps he even has heard tell of a fitting man. Do not scowl at me so.” Esmeraude smiled confidently. “I am certain that I can charm him into supporting my quest.”
    “As am I,” the maid agreed darkly. “You could charm the birds from the trees, child, and that with scarcely any effort at all. My concern is only what he will demand in return for granting your wish.”
    Esmeraude waved off this reservation. “Some trinket or other. A lock of my hair. Perhaps the favor of a kiss.”
    Célie looked less persuaded of this than she, but Esmeraude was undaunted.
    She patted the plump mattress, well pleased that all was resolved to her satisfaction. “Come, Célie, and slumber with me this night. Adventures, I am given to understand, require considerable planning and a measure of foresight.”
    Célie granted her a hard look. “You are determined in this?”
    “Aye! I can barely wait to begin. ’Tis all so exciting.” Esmeraude bounced in anticipation, making the ropes that held the mattress creak. “Do you think some minstrel will compose an ode of my adventure? I should dearly love to be so heralded, to know that I have not lived a common life.”
    The maid harrumphed, clearly not seeing the marvel of the adventure or any immortality among the bards.
    “Get yourself onto your knees, child,” she said in the tone she reserved for matters that were not to be argued. “We shall also have need of all the prayers we can say. Adventures, I am given to understand, oft require divine intervention to end merrily.”
    Excitement bubbled within Esmeraude even as her prayers fell dutifully from her lips. She would have an adventure of her own. A quest , like one of Duncan’s tales.
    She could imagine naught better.
     
    * * *
     
    Bayard de Villonne was certain of his pending triumph. He had crossed to England to attend the Wearing of the Crown by Richard and to present the good news. Richard was not readily swayed from his plan to besiege Montvieux, but Bayard had prevailed.
    To win the hand of a rural maid in a barbarian contest had seemed so simple that both Richard and Bayard had enjoyed a hearty laugh over the matter. Bayard, after all, was handsome and well mannered, a knight and a champion. There could be none of his ilk gathered at this remote holding - Richard