Dryden's Bride Read Online Free PDF

hold her head proudly erect as she walked through the great hall, as she always did, and ignore the sly looks and rude whisperings behind finely manicured, aristocratic hands. She’d lived through enough true horrors in Wales that this, her most recent mishap and Owen’s embarrassingly public censure, hardly rated her notice. So what if she’d spilled her cup of ale? Was everyone in England so infernally perfect, with nary a spill or a speck of dirt anywhere that they could not understand and accept a few small imperfections?
    Wiping her tears, Siân got herself to her feet, only to be startled by the earl of Alldale, who’d come upon her without making a sound.
    He said nothing, but stood formidably, with his arms crossed over his chest, as if awaiting her explanation for being there.
    Siân, having already worked herself up into a defiant,peevish mood, raised her chin. “If you’ve come to laugh at my lack of grace, my lord—” she started to push past him “—rest assured that I am well aware of my shortcomings. I’ve—”
    “Look!” Hugh grabbed her elbow and gently guided her back against the rock where she’d sat moments ago, crying. Their presence was concealed as he turned her to look toward the movement he’d noticed in the distance behind her. “Men are gathering in the mist.”
    Siân peered down the shoreline, and forgot her own small troubles instantly. Directly north of them, were men leading their horses to the water. They did not appear to be Clairmont people. “They’re wearing plaid,” she said in hushed tones. “We’ve heard that Scottish raiders have been attacking the town and stealing livestock!”
    Hugh knew that Richard Bradley had met his death leading Clairmont’s defense against just such Scottish marauders. “Would you estimate…” he asked “…about thirty of them over there?”
    Siân peered into the mist. “Yes,” she said, realizing that he didn’t trust his own sight. “But there are more, with wagons—still making way down the hillside.”
    Hugh shot his gaze abruptly to the northward hills and realized Siân was correct about the others. He hadn’t noticed them before. She had a keen eye, even with her sight obscured by tears. Looking down into her guileless face, Hugh gave a fleeting thought as to what had made her weep, and resisted the urge to touch her face, to wipe the tears from her flushed skin.
    His spine stiffened with the odd notion. She could find her comfort from her brother, or from one of the courtly ladies back at the castle. Siân Tudor certainly had no need of his kind words, even if he knew any.“We’ll need to get back to Clairmont and alert the men,” Hugh said as he took Siân’s elbow and drew her back to the footpath.
    “They seem very well equipped, My Lord,” Siân said. “This will be devastating to Clairmont.”
    “Not if we’re prepared,” Hugh replied gravely.
    They hurried through the light rain, running through the town and up to the castle. Both Siân and Hugh were soaked through when they reached Clairmont’s outer bailey. “Go and get those wet clothes off,” Hugh ordered her.
    “I’m coming with you,” she said defiantly.
    Unwilling to waste time arguing, Hugh proceeded to the great hall, where Lady Marguerite and many of her noble guests were gathered around talking, laughing and watching a pair of jugglers, while the queen’s musicians continued to play their festive music.
    Hugh spotted Nicholas Becker, standing with Lady Marguerite, and he made his way toward the handsome pair, thinking that Nick was a much more suitable swain than he was.
    “Hugh!” Nicholas exclaimed. He glanced at Siân, who stood a little behind Hugh. “You’re soaked!”
    Ignoring his friend’s words, Hugh spoke urgently. “There are Scotsmen gathering at the lakeshore beneath the northern hills, preparing for attack,” he said. “The knights need to ready themselves for battle.”
    Marguerite blanched white and started to