A Knight In Her Bed(8)

Water arrived and a tub was filled and Wolf instructed no man to enter his tent unless he wanted to die. As Juliet soaped herself with the small piece of scented soap, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wolf was up to. The royal court was not somewhere she’d ever imagined herself attending, at least not as other than an acrobat, and if it wasn’t for her friends and his promise to explain to her what had happened to them, she wouldn’t have dared to go there.

And what did he want of her? To be his love? His leman? To live in his castle and bear his children and grow old with him? Juliet wriggled in the cooling water. Her family were merchants, so she was not born of the lower orders, but neither was she one of the great families of England.

Suddenly the door of the tent opened and a woman stepped in. Juliet gasped at the intrusion, sinking lower, water splashing into her face and mouth and making her choke.

The woman had a calm, grave beauty and serious dark blue eyes, but at the sight of Juliet hiding in her bath her face creased into a sweet smile. “I am the Lady Rowena. Wolf asked me to bring you something suitable to wear. Juliet, is it? His somersaulting friend?”

Juliet stared at her suspiciously as she came and lay a cloth covered bundle on the cushions. “It should fit, from what he told me.”

Lady Rowena hesitated and Juliet wondered what she was expecting. Perhaps she should thank her? “I’m not sure if I should attend the court,” she said instead in a rush.

Rowena came closer. Wisps of chestnut brown hair were visible beneath her veil and her lashes were dark about her blue eyes.

“Wolf would not have asked you to go if he didn’t think it important, Juliet. You can trust him, you know. He is an honourable man.”

Her words gave her away and she must have known it, because she flushed pink, before she hurried away. Lady Rowena was in love with Wolf! Juliet felt uncomfortable, because it must be obvious what she and Wolf had been doing in his tent, but the next moment she felt proud. Because he had chosen her, a nobody who turned somersaults for a living, over this beautiful elegant lady.

Climbing from the bath she quickly dried herself and went to inspect the cloth bundle. Beneath the outer covering was a sleeveless tunic of fine silk the colour of a stormy ocean, as well as pointed shoes and a gossamer thin veil and a pale lemon coloured undergarment with long sleeves. The clothing reminded her of long ago, in her merchant family’s home, where beautiful things abounded. Until her father brought home the roll of cloth from across the seas, and with it the fever that killed them all, apart from Juliet.

But she would not think sad thoughts now.

Slowly and reverently, Juliet began to dress in her borrowed clothes.

Her long hair was still damp, and she hurriedly braided it before placing on the veil. Juliet felt right, as if this was meant. As if she was meant to be by his side.

By the time she exited the tent, Wolf was already waiting for her, and his eyes flashed with an expression that made her feel warm and achy.

“You are the most beautiful lady I have ever seen,” he murmured, as he helped her up onto his horse. A great black beast, it was gentle as a lamb, as he settled himself behind her, and reached around her to take up the reins.

“As beautiful as Lady Rowena?” she said, looking between the horse’s ears.

He gave a gruff laugh. “You are jealous,” he declared, sounding pleased by it. “A good sign, Juliet.”

“Jealous?” she snorted. “Not at all. I just wondered if your eyesight was as clear as it could be.”

But the smile on his face wouldn’t go away. “My eyesight is perfect, Juliet.”

Irritably she plucked at the fine stuff of her skirt. “Then you must see that I am no great lady. You could keep me by your side, but I would never be more to you than a curiosity. Perhaps you want me to turn somersaults for you and your friends? I-I do not want you to make promises to me, Wolf, that you cannot keep. It is cruel.”

His mouth hardened, the scar twisting. She waited for his reply, but he said nothing as they trotted down the road to the West Gate in the great wall of London. Now and again, Juliet glanced at him, anxious, wondering what he was thinking. Would he agree with her and set her free? Would he lie to her and break her heart?

But as they neared the White Tower the sights and sounds distracted her, and she lost herself in amazement. The hall they walked down was larger than anything she had seen, and she was glad that Wolf was still holding her hand in his as they took their place in the reception room. With so many dazzlingly dressed persons about her, Juliet tried not to gawp and she held her head high when she saw them whispering and pointing at her. The king himself looked weary and unwell, the long years of war and treachery had taken their toll on him, but he was still a handsome man.