When Love Awaits(33)

“Nothing to warrant gifts.” She cut him off indignantly. “Why would you think so?”

“I did not think so. In fact, I meant to ask you about last night.” He seemed a good deal less sure of himself. “I cannot seem to recall…I have no memory of leaving Westminster Hall, except a vague one of finding you at the bottom of the stairs here.”

When she made no reply, he said, “Shall I assume I made an ass of myself?”

Leonie grinned. “If you are looked at strangely today, it is because you woke half the castle last night.”

“And you, Leonie?” he said softly. “I would not like to think I offended you in any way.”

Taken aback, she said, “You said much, but you did not offend me.” Then she ventured, “Do you have no memory at all?”

“Pieces, dearling,” he replied, looking at her thoughtfully. “But I am not sure if what I do remember was a dream or…did I carry you in here?”

Slowly, Leonie nodded, and then Rolfe’s whole manner changed. He chuckled, and his eyes gleamed with masculine pride.

“That will teach me to drink so much.” He grinned. “I waited for an eternity for you to let me make love to you again, and when you finally did, I could remember only half of it.”

Leonie could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks again. She was beginning to think he said those things just to make her blush, for it happened much too often. Would she ever get used to his bluntness?

“The gifts, my lord,” Leonie reminded him.

“So it is ‘my lord’ again?”

Leonie lowered her gaze.

Rolfe sighed. “These are for you as well.” He handed her the two boxes. As the question leaped into her eyes again, he warned defensively, “Do not make the mistake of asking why I give these to you. It is a man’s right to spend his money where he will.”

“From Henry’s stores too?”

The boxes themselves were beautiful. The long one was carved redwood, the smaller one silver, decorated with smooth enamels. She was almost afraid to see what they contained.

“I ordered those last week from the goldsmith here in London. I hope you will be pleased.”

He did not wait to see if she would be, but turned to leave.

“I do thank you, my—”

Leonie caught herself before adding ‘lord,’ but not soon enough. Rolfe turned around at the door, his expression inscrutable.

“When you can finally bring yourself to use my name freely, then I think you will love me. I will wait for that day.”

After he was gone she stared at the closed door, her confusion complete. Why did he so badly want her love? He had Amelia’s. Was that not enough? Oh, such thoughts would only make her angry again, so she shook them off.

Such generosity! Inside the long box were two exquisite girdles. One was five feet of interlocking gold disks, each with a tiny flower engraved on its shiny round surface. The other was made of gold chains that hung in several lengths, connecting every three inches with a large ruby. There was a larger ruby to clasp the belt together. When she wore the girdle, the chains would flow all the way to her feet.

Inside the silver box were hundreds of precious stones, already in intricate gold settings. They could easily be sewn onto the clothes Leonie would make from the magnificent materials. She was holding a fortune in her hands.

She was stunned, awestruck, and thrilled. But even so, she found herself wondering if he had been equally generous with Amelia.





Chapter 33




WEARING her best bliaut of soft blue silk over a darker blue chemise, Leonie’s confidence was nonetheless very low when Rolfe escorted her into the great hall at Westminster. Only the new girdle fit in with all the glitter of court dress.

She was taken into the presence of Princess Alice and her ladies and left there, as it was too early for her presentation to the king. Leonie did not know Princess Alice, Henry’s reputed mistress, but she had met Queen Eleanor on one of her childhood visits to Court. It was said that Eleanor had instigated the rebellion of Henry’s sons. Whether or not that was so, he had confined her to Winchester Castle. The fact that the queen was more or less imprisoned while Henry’s mistress was by his side reminded Leonie too much of her situation with Rolfe and Amelia, and her spirits sank.

She was disappointed not to see the queen. A beautiful woman, with dark brown eyes and ivory skin, it was no wonder she had been wife to two kings. Her marriage to King Louis of France had been dissolved on grounds of their being related. But they were only fourth cousins, and the dissolution had been effected so that she could marry Henry.

Henry succeeded Stephen to the throne of England two years after marrying Eleanor. He was already duke of Normandy and count of Anjou, and with their marriage, Aquitaine was added to his possessions, making him ruler of all western France. Henry was the most powerful man in Europe.

Leonie remembered Eleanor as a gay, frivolous woman, a bit high-tempered, and truly vain. But Leonie’s mother had sworn that Eleanor had mellowed since her youth. Eleanor was twelve years older than Henry, and possibly that was why he had put her aside for younger women.

King Louis’ daughter, Alice, was no older than Leonie. She had been betrothed to Henry’s son Richard, but that hadn’t stopped Henry from making her his mistress four years ago, a fact he did not even try to hide after his queen was banished from court.

What was surprising was that Alice was not beautiful, not even terribly pretty. Her ladies-in-waiting were quick to point out that it was her wit Henry took pleasure in. Leonie was told, confidentially, how much Henry admired Alice’s grace in walking and dancing. It seemed these beautiful ladies were making excuses for why their king did not prefer them, but the only reason needed was that Henry doubtless loved Alice, as she loved him.

Leonie might have warmed to the princess except that she saw Alice only as the other woman, and Henry as the unfaithful husband. When she looked at Alice, it was Amelia she was reminded of. So she was not in the best of moods when Rolfe came to escort her into the king’s presence.

Henry had changed little in the six years since Leonie had seen him. He was still an intimidating man. His carelessness in dress had not changed either. He obviously found no time for tailors, for though his clothes were expensive, they did not fit him well.

“I did your husband a disservice in telling him that you were an uncomely child. I even tried to talk him out of having you. I can see I would never have been forgiven if I had succeeded.”

Those were Henry’s first words to her as he led her away from Rolfe. Leonie was not impressed.

“If that is a compliment, Your Majesty, then I thank you,” she said tersely.

His gray eyes warmed. “Do you dislike me, my dear, or are you really as inflexible as Rolfe says?”

Leonie groaned inwardly. This was the king and she dared not offend him.

“I know not what he has told you,” she said, forcing a smile.

“Oh, many things, many indeed—though I think he exaggerates. It cannot be true that you tried to kill him on your wedding night.”

Leonie blanched. Rolfe had never discussed the incident with her, yet he could tell Henry about it!

“That—that was an accident, Your Majesty, caused by my nervousness and fear.”

“I thought as much.” Henry smiled disarmingly. “And I doubt you are as dissatisfied with this marriage I arranged for you as your husband seems to think. You might have objected at the start, but once you saw him, you were relieved, weren’t you?” He did not wait for an answer. “Tell me, Lady Leonie, are you pleased with Sir Rolfe?”

“If it pleases you to think so, Your Majesty.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Then my answer is no.”

“Now, see here—”

Her heart leaped into her throat. “You would not want me to lie, Your Majesty. You asked and I answered.”

Henry began to chuckle. “So you did.”

Leonie had forgotten his quick temper. She should have been watching his expression instead of keeping her eyes lowered. Fortunately, it appeared she had appeased him.

“This is most intriguing, my dear,” Henry continued thoughtfully. “Your husband is a man the ladies find most attractive.”

“So he is,” Leonie agreed.

“Does he appeal to you?”

“I did not say he does not appeal, Your Majesty.”

Henry frowned. “He is also a man of merit, and landed now, with wealth gained from prizes of war and tourneys even I cannot imagine. So will you tell me what exactly it is about Rolfe d’Ambert that displeases you?”

There was no way she could avoid answering.

She glanced around to be sure no one else would hear the confession of her shame.

“It is what I imagine many wives object to,” she said lightly with a little shrug. “My lord Rolfe is not a faithful husband.”

“After meeting you, I find that difficult to believe,” Henry replied.

“I wish I had as much doubt,” Leonie admitted.

There was a pregnant silence, and then the king said, “I remember your mother well, my dear. She brightened my court and did much to curb the queen’s impulsiveness—for which I was grateful. I do not like knowing that her daughter is unhappy. Nor do I like seeing a man I am most fond of overset with confusion and just as unhappy. Can you not count your blessings and accept him the way he is?”