Page 4 of Betrothal

As Sir Geoffrey knelt before the king, dark chestnut hair, cropped close to his head, suddenly came into view. It framed a face rugged and handsome, with intelligent eyes, long aquiline nose and a strong, square jaw. His mouth—generous with firm red lips—curled upward in an easy smile. Attired in a rich, deep blue damask cotehardie, Geoffrey Longford might have been any woman’s ideal.

Not hers.

Assuming Lord Braeton would be attending his friend’s progress, Alyse lifted bold eyes to the courtier who was her ideal to find him still gazing at her with a speculative look that made her heart race.

He must have heard about my blunder this morning. God knows everyone else has.

Alyse lowered her gaze, frantically searching the table as though she had lost something.

That is why he keeps smiling at me.

Desperate to keep her hands occupied, she seized her cup.

But what can his attention mean? Is he pleased that I favor him?

Her hands trembled, shaking so hard they threatened to spill ale on her gown. She closed her eyes to gain composure then opened them and raised her chin, turning her attention back to the business of the court. Sir Geoffrey now stood before the king, respectful, waiting.

King Edward spoke again. “Lords and ladies, I present Sir Geoffrey of Longford, who has rejoined our court after attending to his home and lands in Derbyshire for some months. He returns to us to complete my daughter Joanna’s retinue.” The king smiled and gestured toward Princess Joanna at the end of the dais.

“Sir Geoffrey will act as undersecretary to Sir Robert Bouchier, head of the princess’s household. He will accompany my daughter when she leaves and remain with her as she goes to her new home in Castile.” King Edward paused, as if considering something, then continued. “He and his wife will serve as witnesses to Princess Joanna’s marriage, and Sir Geoffrey will become a permanent part of her household staff as Counselor and Advisor to the future queen of Spain.”

So he was married—God help the girl!—and would be accompanying them to Spain. Alyse frowned.

If I were to marry Lord Braeton, then we would likely be much in company with his friend. She sighed. I suppose I will grow used to him.

The prospect did not delight her.

“Lady Alyse de Courcy!” King Edward called out again, bringing Alyse’s head up like a startled deer. “Present yourself before the court.”

Chapter 2

Alyse shot off her seat. Oh, Lord! She had kept King Edward waiting.

“I beg pardon, sire.” She hurried from behind the table, too aware of all the eyes now on her. As she moved to stand before the king, the low drone of many voices rose around the room.

“Impudent girl.”

“I’d not want to be in her place.”

“Do you think the king will…”

Each snatch of conversation made her heart beat faster.

What will he do to me?

Her normal embarrassment at being the center of attention tripled at the thought of this blatant lapse of protocol. She stopped several feet from the dais and the room hushed as though everyone held their breath.

“What do you require of me, Majesty?” Her mouth so dry she could taste sand, Alyse fought to speak in a normal tone. With a sigh of relief, she dropped into a deep curtsy, hiding her face in the folds of her skirt. If only she could remain bowed thus before His Majesty for the remainder of the evening.

King Edward laughed. “Obedience, Lady Alyse, as I require of all my subjects. As your father requires of his daughter.”

Her heart thumped wildly in her breast. That could mean but one thing.

“Rise, my lady.”

She did so on unsteady feet. “I am ready, as always, Your Majesty, to obey my father as I would you.”

Holy Mary, let it be Lord Braeton.