Wolf Bride Read Online Free PDF

Lord Wolf would never be dull, he was too experienced a lover to have felt the same way Eloise had done when he was kissing her, her blood on fire for him, her lips suddenly tingling with passion.
    His desire would soon fade once they were married. Lust was a thing of the moment, easily forgotten by a man.
    Then she would be left in the cold, abandoned while he moved onto a new woman – just as the king seemed likely to do if Queen Anne could not bear him a son.
     
    The presence chamber was crowded, a chill February sunshine falling through high windows to warm the vast room. Standing in groups in doorways, or leaning wearily against the tapestried walls, gentlemen waited to present their petitions to the king. Courtiers and ladies of the court paraded themselves in brilliant silks and velvets like birds of paradise. The restless hum of conversation in the privy chamber rose and fell as each petition was presented, some pleas more interesting or contentious than others.
    At last the name ‘Sir John Tyrell!’ was called out by the chamberlain, who struck his staff of office with a dull thud thrice on the floor.
    Head held high, Eloise followed her father through the massed courtiers towards the high dais. There, above them, King Henry and Queen Anne sat enthroned, side by side, a lavish cloth of gold draped behind their heads.
    This audience with the king had been delayed by several weeks, a period of waiting which had severely tested her nerves. Yet it could not be helped. Soon after her father’s arrival at court, King Henry had been thrown from his horse in a jousting accident and knocked senseless. He had swiftly recovered, thank the Lord, but it was whispered that his leg had been crushed and he might never dance again.
    Outwardly, the king seemed his usual ebullient self. Those who attended him in his privy chambers, however, told of sudden, restless bouts of violence and temper such as they had never seen before. Though that was small wonder.
    For Queen Anne, no doubt terrified that His Majesty might die, had miscarried her unborn child mere hours after his accident. Now the queen sat beside her husband like a wax effigy, white-faced and still, the king’s physicians having only recently pronounced Anne fit to leave her bed.
    It was said the child miscarried had been a boy: the male heir to the throne so longed-for by the king.
    Eloise knelt behind her father on the cold stone flags. That morning she had dressed demurely in a plain gown, covering her hair with a simple hood. She hoped that by appearing unattractive to Lord Wolf, he might choose some other girl to marry. But she suspected he would see straight through that strategy.
    The other maids of honour giggled, winking at her. Lady Margaret hushed them with a frown, one eye on her grieving mistress.
    A quick movement caught her attention, and Eloise glanced sideways through the crowd. It was Simon, splendid in pale yellow velvet, pushing through the other courtiers to stand against the wall near the dais. She had to bite her lip, looking hurriedly away before her colour rose.
    So even Simon had come to watch her humiliation. How had she been so deceived in him?
    Eloise had watched such marriage negotiations many times as one of the queen’s maids of honour, standing behind the dais or seated at the queen’s feet. Now it was her turn to be brought forward and her prospects discussed, a mere chattel in the hands of her father. Being in the queen’s service, it was up to the king and queen to decide her fate.
    ‘Lord Wolf!’ the chamberlain announced, bowing.
    She did not look up, but heard footsteps on the stone floor and felt his gaze on her face.
    Wolf paused beside her. ‘Eloise,’ he said quietly.
    It would cause unwelcome comment if she did not respond. Proudly, she lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze. ‘Lord Wolf.’
    Lord Wolf took her hand and raised Eloise to her feet. ‘I do not like to see my future wife kneeling like a