Shadow on the Crown Read Online Free PDF

and so could claim innocence if any spark flared between Elgiva and one of the æthelings. The blame—and the king’s wrath—would all fall on
him
.
    He had not taken his eyes from Elgiva, and his brother Ecbert leaned toward him and whispered, “The hell with it. Why don’t you just bed her and put yourself out of your misery?”
    Athelstan threw him a dark look. “The lady comes with far too much baggage, and you know it,” he muttered. “Do not let me drink more than a single cup of mead tonight, or I might lose my senses and take what she’s offering. Why don’t you bed her, Ecbert, if she is to your taste?”
    Ecbert snorted. “She would not have me on a platter,” he said, “more’s the pity.”
    “It is the eldest ætheling that she wants,” Edmund said, “and do not flatter yourself that your good looks have anything to do with it.”
    Edmund had the right of it. Athelstan was only too aware of the mantle of responsibility that he bore as the eldest son of the king. When he wed, and that would likely not happen while his father lived, it would be for political expediency, not personal inclination. To form any kind of attachment with a girl of noble birth would be to hand the girl and her family a weapon to use against the king. He could bed any girl in the kingdom, as long as she was not crown worthy.
    Elgiva, who at that moment stepped in front of him to offer him the ale cup, was forbidden fruit. Her dark eyes held his as he drank, but for once her face was grave, and she was careful not to touch his fingers with her own.
    Was this another move in the game, or had she learned about his trysts with the kitchen wench? He hoped the girl would not be punished. He would have to make sure that she was well compensated, just in case.
    Whatever was behind this sudden coolness, he must play his part. He returned Elgiva’s gaze with a grave bow and said, “Your beauty, lady, is a gift to us all.”

    Elgiva, gazing into Athelstan’s guarded blue eyes, accepted his compliment with a curt nod. She knew he desired her. She could see it in his glance, could feel it in her fingertips whenever she chanced to touch him.
    But he would rather bed a kitchen wench than the Lady of Northampton. Wulf had told her that, sneering that Athelstan obviously preferred a woman with experience in bed play.
I can give you some of that, sweetheart,
he had whispered, kissing her forehead and laughing when she stalked away from him.
    Wulf stood beside her now, his hand at her waist, distracting her with a light caress. She slipped away from him, ignored Athelstan, and smiled at Ecbert, who she had determined would sit beside her at the feast tonight. Let the king’s eldest son gnaw on the knowledge that he was not the only ætheling in her hall.
    At the table, the younger brother seemed gratified by her sudden favor, and he responded by regaling her with a series of ribald tales that he, at least, seemed to find enormously entertaining. He reminded her of nothing so much as a boisterous puppy, gaunt and clumsy, with none of the grace of his brothers. Even Edmund, the youngest of the three and built like a tree stump, had more to recommend him than the lanky Ecbert, who was all arms and legs and, she thought, very little brain. His horselike face and braying laugh added nothing to his charm. It was a pity that he was too young to grow a beard, for she judged that it would improve his looks considerably. There would be less of him to see.
    Still, he seemed open enough and completely guileless. Perhaps she could get him to reveal something about Athelstan that would be the key to bewitching him.
    She signaled to a serving girl to fill Ecbert’s cup, which he had already emptied three times, and she noticed that a servant had slipped behind the table to deliver a wax tablet each to Wulf and to Athelstan. She recognized her father’s seal on the tablet that Wulf opened, and the question she had been about to pose to Ecbert died