Cruel As the Grave Read Free

not only anticipated her move, he
    thwarted it, reaching out and grabbing her wrist. Wine sloshed over the rim of her cup, splattering her gown and Durand's stylish tunic. Unable to break free of the knight's grip, she turned to Justin for aid. He was already in motion, slashing down upon Durand's arm with the stiffened edge of his hand. Durand at once let go of Claudine and lunged for Justin's throat. As Claudine screamed and heads swiveled in their direction, they crashed backward into the window seat.
     
    Before either man could inflict any real damage, others intervened. Will Longsword and William Marshal pulled the combatants apart, and Justin and Durand were forced to stand, panting and flushed, as the Archbishop of Rouen rebuked them indignantly for daring to brawl in the queen's chambers. Daubing at a cut lip with the back of his sleeve, Durand offered Claudine a laconic, highly suspect apology, shot Justin a look that should have been aimed from a bow, and stalked out. Finding himself the unwanted center of attention, Justin allowed Claudine to lead him into the queen's chamber to escape the stares and whispers. There she ignored his protests and insisted upon bathing his scraped knuckles in a laver of scented water.
     
    "The least I can do is tend to your wounds," she chided. "After all, they were gotten on my behalf." She tilted her face up toward his, her lips parted invitingly. Her breath was warm on his throat and the familiar fragrance of her perfume evoked involuntary erotic memories of their past lovemaking. Justin was never to be sure what would have happened next, for it was then that Eleanor emerged from the chapel.
     
    The queen's gaze was cool and unrevealing. "Claudine, would you find Peter for me?"
     
    Eleanor's chancellor was right outside, but Claudine was astute enough to recognize a pretext for privacy when she heard one. "Of course, Madame," she said. "I'll see to it straightaway." Closing the door quietly behind her, she left them alone.
     
    Eleanor moved to the window, beckoning for Justin to join her. Below in the bailey, John was waiting for his stallion to be brought. As they watched, he and his men mounted and rode off. "John will not back down," Eleanor said at last. "We must find out what he means to do next. Can you get word to Durand?"

    Justin rubbed his sore jaw ruefully. "It has been taken care of, my lady."
     
    "Do I need to know what you and Claudine were doing in here?"
     
    "Yes, Madame, you do. I'd just gotten into a brawl with Durand. He baited me into it and I wish I could say that I realized what he was up to, but I did not. Not until we were grappling in the floor rushes and he muttered in my ear, 'The alehouse on Gracechurch Street, after Compline.'"
     
    "I see." Her face remained impassive, but he thought he could detect a glint of faint humor in those slanting hazel eyes. "Could he not have found an easier way to get that message to you?"
     
    "I was wondering that myself," Justin said dryly.
     
    "I did not get a chance to tell you that Durand would be joining John's household knights. The closer he is to John, after all, the more useful he can be to me." Eleanor's eyes flicked toward the bloodied basin, then back toward him. "I have need of Durand," she said. "John trusts him ... at least a little. But you were right about him, Justin. Bear that in mind in your dealings with him."
     
    "I will, Madame," he said somberly, remembering the night he'd learned the truth about Durand de Curzon. He'd called Durand "John's tame wolf," and she'd smiled grimly, claiming Durand as hers. In reminding him of that now, she was also warning him. But there was no need. He already knew how dangerous it was to hunt with wolves.
     
    ~~
     
    Justin had been living on Gracechurch Street for barely two months, but he was beginning to think of it as home. His neighbors were hardworking, good-hearted folk for the most part, unabashedly curious about the tall dark youth dwelling in their