I Am Juliet Read Online Free PDF

this was the cause of the banquet. The Earl of Paris had come to woo me! I would have a household of my own, a grand one. I would wear the household keys. No Master Scholar. No French translation ever again. A husband who was cousin to the Prince …
    My mother went on and on, talking of Paris’s virtues, which gave me time to work out a polite way to answer. My tongue would never have the poetry of my mother’s. Though as the wife of the Earl of Paris I would try to learn. A lady must speak in poetry, especially in the royal family.
    Royal! A banquet today! What would I wear? I had never even appeared in company before.
    At last my mother came to a halt, just as I had worked out something proper to say.
    ‘I’ll look to like, if looking liking move. But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.’
    A good speech, dutiful, poetic. It even rhymed.
    My mother smiled, the best smile she had ever given me, and gave me her hand to kiss.

Chapter 6
    I danced back along the corridor. Well, no, I didn’t. Young ladies only danced when the minstrel played, and never along a corridor. I walked behind Nurse, eyes downwards, till a pair of red velvet shoes made me look up.
    Red shoes, red stockings, red breeches, and above them Tybalt’s face, with a black eye and an expression that was hard to read. His wolfhound gave a faint whine beside him.
    ‘Fair cousin, a flower soon to bloom, I hear.’
    Tybalt bent down and gave me a kiss of greeting on the lips. I could taste his anger, bitter as old rye bread. My mother must have told him about the marriage before she had told me. Tybalt had lost the whole House of Capulet today, and must pretend it didn’t matter. The Earl of Paris would be my father’s heir now.
    I looked at him nervously. His anger glittered, but he had it in check. Tybalt needed my mother’s goodwillmore than ever now. He would even need mine, I thought, when I was married to the Earl of Paris. My husband would hold the keys to the House of Capulet after my father’s death.
    Tybalt forced a smile. I felt sorry for him; sorry for the whole world who wasn’t Juliet Capulet today. ‘I wish you hadn’t had to hear this news, cousin.’
    ‘Sorry enough to say “nay” to a noble husband?’ I could see the effort behind his gallantry. ‘No need to frown, my gentle cousin. You are the gift of your good father.’
    The wolfhound barked sharply, as though he knew that something wasn’t right. Tybalt ignored him and kissed my hand.
    ‘There,’ he said, ‘if I have not your hand in marriage, at least I have kissed it. Will you dance with me at the banquet this afternoon, kind cousin?’
    ‘Yes, sir, I’ll gladly dance with you.’ I tried to make him smile. ‘I like the new adornment for your eye, cousin.’
    He almost managed a grin. ‘A gift from the Montagues.’
    ‘I hope you gave them presents in return.’
    He laughed. ‘I did. So did your father! Your mother had to hold him back. In truth, it were more a brawl than a fight for gentlemen. I even saw one of the Montague rats felled by a well-thrown cabbage.’ His grin was real now, as he touched his eye. ‘That may be how I got this.’
    ‘A cabbage is a fit weapon to slay a Montague. I hope my father gets to wield his sword next time.’
    Tybalt shook his head. ‘The Prince has ordered torture and death to any Capulet or Montague who fights again.’
    So the Joans had been right. ‘Does the Prince wish peace so much?’
    Tybalt’s hand fondled the head of his rapier. ‘A peaceful city means prosperous trade. Prosperous trade means more riches.’
    It sounded sensible, not romantic. But a battle with cabbages wasn’t romance either. And a prince must always be right. For the first time I wondered if the Prince saw our families as squabbling children, quarrelling together as my brother and I had about who would ride the rocking horse. I am grown up today, I thought, and Tybalt is still a boy.
    ‘Will