AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Betrothal In Utrecht
On the eleventh day of April, they came at last to Utrecht. The cavalcade followed a wide river for some distance before entering the town.
“Probably the Rhine, Your Majesty,” Lady Dorothea explained.
Blythe recalled tales her father had told her about seeing the Rhine during the People’s Crusade. She knew it was a very long river and he’d never mentioned Utrecht.
When the carriage drew to a halt near a large church, Blythe was taken aback when Count Dieter opened the door. Standing to attention, he said, “Welcome to Utrecht, Your Majesty. May I take the liberty of informing you the town is another Prince-Bishopric within your empire. The name of the bishop is Burchard. He bids you welcome, but is presently occupied greeting King Heinrich.”
He’d spoken in flawless Norman French.
For the first time in several days, a smile replaced Matilda’s frown. “We thank you, Count…”
Not surprised her mistress didn’t remember his name, Blythe supplied it. “Count Von Wolfenberg, Your Majesty.”
Her reward was a wink from Dieter that sent her heart aflutter.
Matilda offered her hand, and he assisted her from the carriage.
Blythe admired his thoughtfulness in making the princess feel more welcome; he’d sensed she was a child who needed reassurance, and also pandered to her arrogance with mention of her empire.
Lady Dorothea shooed Blythe and the other ladies out of the carriage.
Duke Lothair approached, bowed and proffered his arm to Matilda. She accepted and he escorted her into a building that resembled a monastery. Lady Dorothea, Anthea and Philippa followed.
Blythe stopped breathing. Fate had granted a fleeting moment to speak to the intriguing man standing beside her, but she had no idea what to say.
“This is a private residence for the bishops,” he explained, as if he knew she was at a loss.
“Thank you for putting Her Majesty at ease,” she gushed, wishing she’d thought of something more personal. “You are good with children.”
“I have a son of my own,” he replied. “A little younger.”
He had a wife and family!
Flooded with shame that she’d harbored wanton thoughts about a married man, she lifted the hem of her gown and fled, her face on fire.
* * *
Watching Blythe hurry away, Dieter inhaled the faint traces of a fragrance he couldn’t name. He cursed under his breath. He certainly hadn’t meant for Johann to be the first thing he told her about himself.
On the other hand, she was clearly upset by the knowledge, which meant she was attracted to him. He shook his head, not sure why the realization made him feel smug.
However, she probably thought he was a philandering married man.
The best plan was to avoid contact, which wouldn’t be difficult. He strode into the Bishop’s Residence, trying to get his mind on the myriad details he’d been tasked with in preparation for the betrothal ceremony on the morrow.
With any luck, he might get a chance during the proceedings to explain to Lady Blythe he was a widower.
* * *
The next day, Matilda’s ladies had barely finished bathing and dressing their mistress when the Bishop of Utrecht sought an audience. The princess scowled. “These foreigners have done nothing to make us welcome,” she declared. “Let him wait.”
For the first time, Blythe glimpsed something of her shrewd royal father in Matilda. She might not turn out to be the malleable wife Heinrich expected. When she deemed sufficient time had passed, she took her place in the elaborately carved chair by the hearth and gave leave for the cleric to enter.
Gooseflesh marched up Blythe’s spine when Dieter von Wolfenberg entered behind the reed-thin bishop and bowed low. “With permission, I will act as interpreter,” he explained. “Bishop Burchard has come to explain the details of the ceremony.”
Blythe clenched her jaw. Surely, there were other people at this court who spoke Norman French.
