Lord of My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

but nothing more profound. The prayers and rituals which transported others into spiritual ecstasy were merely routines to her, some pleasant and others not.
    “No,” she said. “I don’t think I have a true vocation.”
    The duchess nodded. “That is also the feeling of the abbess, though she will be sorry to lose you. I understand you have a gift for learning, particularly in the healing arts.” The duchess rose. “There are many ways to serve, my dear. These are troubled times, and the king has need of you.”
    Madeleine was not deceived. The king needed her to toss to some man as a reward, as men toss the still-warm entrails of their kill to a hunting dog.
    “Whom am I to wed, Your Grace?”
    “That is not settled,” replied the duchess. “There is no urgency. An uncle is caring for the land at the moment.”
    Uncle Paul, thought Madeleine, unsurprised.
    Neither her mother’s nor her father’s family had proved to be fertile or fortunate. Her only remaining relative was her mother’s sister, Celia, who had married an impoverished lord, Paul de Pouissey. That marriage was childless, but Odo, Paul’s son by a previous marriage, had always been considered Marc and Madeleine’s cousin.
    Paul de Pouissey was a consistent failure and quick to latch onto any good fortune of his wife’s family.
    “You have been educated here beyond most young women,” the duchess continued, “but will need to learn court manners. You must join my ladies. I expect to be summoned to England in the spring to join my lord. Time enough then to settle your future.”
    If no particular man had been chosen, Madeleine thought, then perhaps there was a chance to take control of fate. “I would ask a boon, Your Grace.”
    A faint touch of frost entered the duchess’ eyes. “And what might that be?”
    Madeleine’s nerve almost failed her, but she spoke her request quickly. “My lady, I would beg to have some say in whom I am to marry.”
    A glance showed her the duchess was very cool indeed. “Are you suggesting the king and I would not have care to your welfare, girl?”
    Madeleine hastily knelt. “No, Your Grace. Forgive me.”
    She watched the duchess’ slippered foot tap three times. Then Matilda said, “Well, yours has been an unusual upbringing, and some allowance must be made. At least you have spirit ...” That foot continued to tap. Madeleine stared at it, wondering if she was merely to be forgiven, or would gain something, even the slightest right of consultation.
    “I will ask my lord husband that your wishes be taken into consideration,” the duchess said eventually, startling Madeleine. “And I will do my best to see that your marriage is delayed a little, to give you time to adjust.”
    At this extra generosity Madeleine looked up in amazement. The duchess was smiling dryly. “Oh get up, girl. Your groveling has gained what you want.”
    Madeleine rose warily.
    “You are suspicious?” asked Matilda. “That is wise. Do you know of my courtship?”
    “No, Your Grace.”
    The duchess’ smile broadened as she looked into the past. “William asked my father for my hand, and I refused. He was, after all, a bastard and none too secure in his hold on his land. I was somewhat rude in my rejection. One day William and one attendant rode into Blois and came upon me in the street with my maid and guard. He seized me and laid his riding whip to me.”
    Madeleine gasped, but the duchess’ smile was still fond. “Later he sent to ask again, and I accepted.”
    “After he had whipped you?”
    “Because he had whipped me. Oh, don’t think I desire that kind of thing. Since that day he has never raised a hand to me, and the heavens would crack with our raging if he did. But a man who dared come into my father’s stronghold and assault me so was a man whose destiny I would share.”
    The duchess rearranged the folds of her flowing ruby skirt. “Why am I telling you this? Because I approve of a woman willing to take a