Grasso, Patricia (19 page)

Richard gazed with budding love at her dazed expression and said, " 'Tis time to sign the agreement."

Keely affixed her name to the document and then glanced at the earl. For better or for worse, she would become his wife.

Richard withdrew something from his pocket and held it up. "Your betrothal ring, beauty."

Keely gasped at what she saw. The exquisite ring was a gold band adorned with a row of eight priceless gems.

"What a beautiful trinket," Lady Dawn gushed.

"Well done, Devereux," Duke Robert said in approval.

Richard had eyes only for Keely. " 'Tis symbolic," he explained. "The jewels spell the word
dearest: d
iamond,
e
merald,
a
methyst,
r
uby,
e
merald,
s
apphire, and
t
opaz."

Taking her left hand in his, Richard slipped the ring onto her third finger and said,
"Por tous jours."

"What does it mean?" she asked.

Richard cupped her chin in his hand. "For always."

Without forethought, Keely placed the palm of her hand against his cheek. She surprised him even more by planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Will you walk with me to the door?" he asked.

"You're leaving?"

"I regret I must attend the queen," Richard told her.

"I leave within the hour and will be gone for two weeks."

"Two whole weeks?" Keely cried.

Richard smiled. "Thank you, dearest."

"For what?"

"For that incredibly disappointed expression. Knowing you'll miss me cheers my heart."

"I won't miss you," Keely lied.

"Yes, you will. And you'll long to feel my lips cover yours. Like this—" Richard kissed her soundly, leaving her yearning for more.

Chapter 8

She missed him and longed to feel his lips coverhers.

Two weeks passed excruciatingly slowly for Keely. On the fourteenth day after Richard's departure, she sat on a stone bench in the duke's garden.

All around her, autumn was rapidly ripening. Though the afternoon sparkled with blinding sunshine, the wind's crisp bite foretold of the season's passing.

Keely pulled her cloak close around her shoulders and stared in the direction of Devereux House. Would the earl return home that day as promised? Or would her watching be in vain? What was he doing at that precise moment? Whom had he seen at court, and to whom had he spoken?

Those questions and a hundred others tormented Keely and stole her peace of mind. Nervous anticipation fluttered like butterflies' wings inside the pit of her stomach, and the thought of Richard sauntering across the lawns toward her fanned the embers of desire that had lain dormant since his departure.

When that insidious monster called insecurity reared its frightening head, Keely wondered in a near panic if the earl might already be regretting his betrothal to her. She looked at her betrothal ring with its row of precious jewels, and the sight of it cheered her flagging spirits.

"Por tous jours,"
he'd said. "For always."

Keely closed her eyes and tried to recapture his passionate kiss. It was no use. Reliving the past, however recent, was impossible. A world of difference lay between remembering the kiss and actually feeling his warm lips pressed to hers.

Still, Keely kept her eyes closed and contented herself by conjuring the earl's handsome image. By now, his bruises would be healing, and—

"Hello, darling!" the Countess of Cheshire called from across the lawns.

Keely opened her eyes and stared in surprised dismay at the four people advancing toward her. Along with Duke Robert and Lady Dawn walked the blond-haired angel from Ludlow Castle, her half-sister, and an adolescent boy, probably her half-brother. Steeling herself against the expression of hatred on the blonde's face, Keely rose from the bench and waited for them to approach.

"Henry and Morgana, this is your sister Keely," Duke Robert announced. "Keely, here are your brother and your sister."

Because he'd done her an act of kindness by sending that message to her, Keely first turned to fifteen-year-old Henry, who'd inherited his father's ebony hair and had his sister's blue eyes. When he grinned at her, Keely returned his smile.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Henry said.

"My feelings mirror yours," she replied.

Unable to delay the inevitable, Keely turned to the glaring blue-eyed angel who'd had her thrown out of Ludlow Castle. "I've always wished for a sister," she said with a tentative smile. "I do hope we can be friends."

"Sneaky slut," the angel hissed, the vehemence in her voice forcing Keely to step back a pace.

"Mind your tongue, Morgana," Duke Robert warned, "or I'll banish you to your chamber."

"I refuse to share my home with your bastard," Morgana told him. "Get rid of her."

And so it begins, Keely thought as humiliation stained her cheeks.
Bastard
echoed through her mind. It appeared that the earl would be forced to face his folly sooner than she'd expected.

"I shan't hesitate to send you back to Shropshire," the duke threatened his daughter. "I'd suffer no qualms about locking you up until you're too old to wed."

"She's stolen my gown!" Morgana cried, stamping her foot.

"I apologize for borrowing your clothing," Keely said. "His Grace and the countess insisted I wear them. I'll change immediately and return it to you."

"Do you actually think I'd wear it now that you've touched it?" Morgana asked, her voice filled with contempt.

"Your sister is here to stay," Duke Robert said. "Guard your viper's tongue, and practice those genteel manners that I paid Ashemole to teach you."

"Give over, Morgana," the countess drawled, intent on using the girl's own petty outrage against her. "Keely will be leaving us in less than a month."

"I eagerly look forward to the day," Morgana shot back. "And of course, to your own departure as well."

Duke Robert reached out to give his shrewish daughter a well-deserved shake, but the Countess of Cheshire stayed his hand. She smiled at the girl and went in for the kill, purring, "Our dear Keely has managed to capture the Earl of Basildon's eye. Devereux and she will be married next month at Hampton Court. 'Twill be the marriage of the decade."

"You've stolen my intended?" Morgana shrieked.

"Your intended?"
Keely echoed, shocked. She looked at the duke for confirmation, but he was busy frowning at the countess.

"Conniving bastard!" Morgana screamed. With her bejeweled hand, she lashed out at Keely and slapped her hard.

The force of the blow sent Keely reeling backward. She landed on the ground beside the stone bench.

When the other three rushed to her aid, Keely turned her head away and whispered, "I'm fine."

"Your lip is bleeding," Henry told her, offering his handkerchief.

Keely glanced sidelong at the linen and then at him.

" 'Tis clean," he assured her. "I haven't used it."

That remark brought a tremulous smile to Keely's lips. She accepted his handkerchief and pressed it against her mouth.

"Shall I help you up?" Henry asked.

Keely shook her head and without turning around said, "I'm very sorry, Lady Morgana. I never intended to cause you pain." That Richard had courted her sister hurt Keely more than her bleeding lip.

"Keely did nothing wrong," Lady Dawn said. " 'Twas the earl who demanded the match. Devereux adores her, probably because of her
gentle manner."

"I cannot believe this is happening," Morgana whined, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Go to your chamber," Duke Robert ordered. "Do not dare show your face until supper, or I'll take a belt to your backside."

"You're siding with
her?"
Morgana wailed. "She's poisoned my own
father
against me?"

"Do as I say." The duke's stern voice held a final note of warning that the irate girl failed to heed.

"I suppose the bastard couldn't wait to tell you how I had her thrown out of Ludlow," Morgana sneered.

"You threw her out of Ludlow?" Duke Robert roared, his face mottling with rage.

Realizing her mistake, Morgana stammered, "I—I d-didn't think you'd want to be bothered with one of your by-blows."

Without warning, Duke Robert slapped his daughter. He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her toward the mansion. Morgana's loud pleadings for mercy could still be heard after she disappeared from sight.

Henry chuckled, tickled that his sister had entrapped herself. The Countess of Cheshire cast him a feline smile and then headed back to the house.

But Keely wasn't smiling. She leaned forlornly against the bench as tears brimmed over her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

"Are you certain you're uninjured?" Henry asked, helping her to rise. He sat beside her on the bench.

Wallowing in misery, Keely stared straight ahead. She struggled to maintain her composure but failed. A heart-wrenching sob escaped her throat. And then another. Finally, she hid her face in her hands and surrendered to her tears.

"Would you care to use my shoulder?" Henry asked, uncertain of what to do.

His chivalrous offer caught Keely by surprise. She stopped weeping abruptly, cast him a sidelong glance, and tried to smile. "I'm
very
happy that you're my brother," she said, then hiccoughed. "Thank you for the message you sent me."

Henry grinned. " 'Twas nothing. Besides, foiling Morgana's plans brings me so much pleasure."

"Is my lip still bleeding?"

Henry slid closer and inspected her lip, then nodded and ordered, "Press the linen down hard." Keely did as he instructed.

"So tell me, sister," Henry asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "how did you ever trap the elusive Earl of Basildon?"

"Brother, you've the gist of it wrong," Keely answered with a rueful smile. "That arrogant rascal trapped me."

"How did Devereux manage that?" he asked.

Keely shrugged and then related the events of her downfall that culminated in their father's unexpected entry into the earl's bedchamber. "How His Grace knew what was happening is beyond me," she ended her tale. "Only Lady Dawn knew where I'd gone, and even she had no idea the earl would be abed when I arrived."

How wondrously naïve his new sister was, Henry thought, struggling not to laugh in her face. "Never underestimate the Countess of Cheshire's intelligence because of the size of her—" He broke off and coughed, hiding the vulgarity he'd almost uttered. "You witnessed how skillfully the countess engineered Morgana into that revealing rage."

"No one can goad us into negative action unless we allow it," Keely disagreed. "Each soul bears the responsibility for its own fate. If she'd responded with kindness to my offer of friendship, Morgana would be enjoying this glorious autumn afternoon instead of weeping alone in her chamber."

"I'm positive Ashemole is consoling her." Henry gently pulled her hand away from her face and inspected her lip. "The bleeding stopped," he told her, then watching for her reaction, added, "Devereux must want you badly."

"I cannot credit that. I'm a Welsh nobody."

Henry gave her a lopsided grin. "Any mirror will tell you his reason."

Keely smiled. "Thank you for the pretty compliment, brother."

"Where are those giants of yours hiding?"

"Odo and Hew feel more comfortable at the stables," she answered, starting to rise. "Come with me, and I'll introduce you."

"Later," Henry said, touching her forearm to prevent her leaving. "First, please tell me about yourself."

"I lived at my stepfather's holding in Wales," Keely said. "When my mother passed away, I journeyed to England to find my natural father."

"Not only did you find Papa, you found Devereux, and the rest is history," Henry remarked. "What are the wedding plans?"

Keely shrugged. "The countess and, I suppose, the earl have it planned. All I need to do is attend. Did you know there are men at court who rouge their cheeks?"

"Bloody popinjays," the boy muttered.

Honk! Honk! Honk!

Keely and Henry looked in the direction of that sound. Eluding his keepers, Anthony the goose was waddling as fast as he could toward them.

"What do you think of the countess's pet?" Henry asked.

"Anthony lives better than most," Keely replied. "I especially love his emerald and diamond collar."

The honking goose stopped in front of Keely, who'd begun a practice of feeding him a treat each afternoon. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the slice of bread she'd saved from her dinner. Breaking it into small pieces, she fed the fat goose and then gestured to his keepers, Bart and Jasper, who leashed him and led him away.

"Friendship is wherever we find it," Keely said, glancing at her brother. "Even a goose or a pig or a tree can be a worthy friend."

Henry smiled. His sister was lovely and charming, but definitely strange. If he had to choose between the two, he'd take Keely over Morgana any day. Lovely, charming, and strange were more pleasant by far than selfish, shallow, and vicious.

"Will you be attending my wedding?" Keely asked. "Odo and Hew need someone to watch over them while the earl and I are busy with our guests."

"When is it?"

"The week after Samhuinn."

"What's that?"

"Samhuinn is what the church now calls All Hallow's Eve, All Hallow's Day, and All Soul's Day," Keely answered. " 'Tis three days of potent magic, when the veil between our world and that of our ancestors draws aside. Those who are prepared can journey to the other world."

Henry snorted with disbelief. "Do you actually believe that people can leave this world and journey to—"

"The past and the future," Keely supplied. " 'Tis a marvelous time when chaos reigns. Don't the English celebrate it?"

Henry's gaze narrowed on her. "How do the Welsh celebrate?"

"With feasts and disguises and pranks."

"Disguises and pranks?" he echoed, interested.