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Una’s mouth pursed. “You will need a fine wedding gown, lady.”
Dismayed, Lily looked down at the stained and threadbare gown she wore. “This is all I have, Una. Mayhap I can borrow one of yours?”
It was said in jest, but Una blushed rosy red. “Oh no, lady,” she breathed, “it wouldn’t be fitting! You must ask your lord. They say he is almost as rich as the king. He could buy you furs and jewels enough to fill a room!”
“No doubt he could,” Lily replied dryly, but she would not ask. Call it stubborn pride, but she would much prefer to wed Radulf in her travel-stained rags than beg him for new clothes. Still, she continued to brood on her lack of suitable adornments. After Una had gone and Lily retired to her bed, she stayed awake wondering what would become of her.
Although she doubted she could have slept anyway, with Radulf and his men celebrating.
Probably tallying up his new estates, she told herself bleakly. Well, she hoped he had a very sore head in the morning.
Radulf, unaware of his wife-to-be’s ill-wishing, was laughing at his men’s sallies and playing the bridegroom. He had what he wanted, why not enjoy it? Let all his doubts and troubles wait until the morrow.
Still, his eyes slid often in the direction of Lily’s closed door. Behind that stout wooden barrier lay the woman who had turned his life upside down. He pictured her, one arm outflung, pale hair twisting about her like a silver rope, lips slightly apart, soft and sweet on the outside, so hot and welcoming on the inside.
Would she welcome him now, if he came knocking? Radulf did not think so. More likely she would fly at him, nails crooked like claws, screaming her fury like a banshee.
He shuddered.
“What will you name your first son, my lord?” some wit demanded, drink slopping down his chin. “Eric Bloodaxe?”
Radulf snorted, ridding himself of his gloomy thoughts. “Nay, he will be Radulf! A good Norman name.”
Jervois raised his goblet high. “To Radulf, son of Radulf!”
Radulf smiled, his gaze resting on his trusted captain. He had put the other man in a difficult position earlier on, asking him to obey his lord’s orders above the king’s. If it had become necessary to take Lily into hiding, Jervois would have been risking his life. Such loyalty was to be valued highly. Aye, he would reward Jervois, reward him well!
“My lord?” His captain leaned closer, green eyes glazed, his head bobbing with drunken wisdom. “What do you in…intend to give Lady Lily…that is, Wilfreda, for a bride gift?”
Radulf blinked at him, his mind gone suddenly blank.
“Our host…host’s daughter told me that ’tis customary,” Jervois went on, slurring his words badly, “to give your bride a gift on her wedding day.”
Radulf stared back at him. How could he have been so dim-witted as not to comprehend he needed a bauble to present to his wife-to-be? Women, as he was well aware, were very fond of baubles. His father’s money had soon dribbled away on the purchasing of jewels and pretty things for his second wife, and all the while, eyes gleaming, she had demanded more.
The memory caused Radulf’s expression to harden. No, he decided stubbornly, there would be no bride gift. She was getting the rich and powerful Lord Radulf, wasn’t she? She should be content with that!
He said so aloud, ignoring Jervois’s disapproving tut-tuts.
“Sh…she won’t see it that way. She’ll feel sl…slighted. Women always feel sl…slighted over the little things.”
Radulf scowled. “Whether she feels slighted or not is a matter of complete indifference to me.”
Jervois tried to focus his eyes. “Make you miserable,” he said at last. “No talk, no smiles, no bed.”
Radulf’s scowl deepened.
Defeated, his captain walked away, weaving slightly from side to side. “Both as st…stubborn as mules,” he muttered darkly to himself. “God grant I never have a wife!”
When the morning came, and Una told Lily there was a gift for her, her heart soared.
The idea that, after all that had passed between them, the breach could be healed with a mere bauble was ridiculous. And yet Lily’s spirits lifted with her heart. The gift must be a gesture of truce.
The next moment, Una dashed all her eager hopes.
“A manservant brought it, my lady. It comes from Lady Kenton and is a gift, her man says, for you to wear at your wedding.”
When a disconsolate Lily had unraveled the carefully wrapped bundle, she found inside the most beautiful gown. She could not help her gasp of wonder. Cut from heavy silk cloth, the gown was a sumptuous golden color and embroidered all over with fine gold and silver threads. The accompanying chemise and veil were as fine as a spider’s web on a spring morn. A pair of pointy-toed shoes, the same golden color as the gown, completed the outfit.
