“Cease your foolish prattle! You’ll scare the poor girl. I vow he gave me gooseflesh just to be near him.” Gressy gave her mistress an intense look.
“You are sure it is the Black Lion and no other?” Her voice was quiet. But each story was misted with a sense of evil, that mayhaps his strength was ill-gotten. She had heard stories of the Black Lion since she was but a girl-stories of strength and courage. “It is an earl come, and not just any of the king’s earls, but the great Black Lion himself.” What color are his eyes? His hair?”īoth women looked up to see Gressy and Meg entering the small chamber with armfuls of clean linen for the bed. Lyonene obeyed and then asked, “Tell me more of him.
Now get your comb so I may remove some of the tangles from your hair.” “He is handsome? He is a handsome young earl, fair, and rides a white stallion?” Lyonene teased the old woman. “He is an earl, a man your father has not met, and he is a young man.” “Oh no, my lady.” Lucy fastened the thin leather belt about Lyonene’s slim waist. “Know you this guest? He is friend to my father?” Lucy helped her mistress into the thin linen shift and then the woolen tunic, the tightness of which emphasized her womanly body. The soft glow highlighted the full curves of her slim young body. The shutters were closed tightly against the cold winter, and the only light came from the small fireplace and the tallow candle on the tall iron stand by the bed. Lyonene threw back the bedclothes and put a small foot on the rush-covered oak floor. “There is a guest, an important guest, and you are to wear your finest clothes for the introductions.” Lyonene, who had turned toward the light only reluctantly, now looked with interest at Lucy. “The lady your mother bids you dress in your gold tunic with the green surcoat and mantle.” She’d been with Lyonene since the girl’s birth and was much like a mother to her. She was an old woman now and far too fat. “Lady Lyonene.” Lucy pulled the bed-curtains back. The January winds whistled outside the old donjon, threads of cold air cutting under the wooden shutters, but her bed was warm and she planned to put off leaving it as long as possible. Lyonene could hear Lucy’s heavy step on the stone stairs and snuggled deeper beneath the thick coverlet. I do not propose to marry a woman with ugly legs.” “That is true, I do not know, so I shall find out. He did not smile, but the corners of his eyes showed merriment. “And how do you know my knees do not knock?” Would you not want a rich wife with green estates and…” “At least this marriage, for I fear you do not bargain to gain, since you chose a poor baron’s daughter to wife. “Aye,” she answered quietly, “but is not a marriage more than just a bargain?” She began to smile. “You have spoken to your father and agreed to the … bargain?” He lifted her ivory comb and studied the figures on it. Ranulf walked to the carved oak chest that stood against one wall.
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