Fatal Truths (The Anarchy Medieval Romance) Read Free

when she lands with her army in England.
    “ She’s lucky I still support her claim to the throne of England. I do so only out of loyalty to her father, Henry. He sheltered me when I had to flee Scotland as a youth.”
    He’d gone off on the usual diatribe about his days at Henry’s court, driven into exile when his uncle, Domnall , usurped the throne on the death of Dabíd’s parents.
    Finally Elayne’s tears and weeping seemed to touch the king’s cold heart. “Go with them if you must, but not as their mother. Maud knows full well my son’s wife died in childbirth.
    “ It won’t be so bad. Maud has chosen the Montbryce family as your hosts. They are honorable Normans. You and your children will be treated kindly.”
    Despite his reassurances, Elayne had feared they would be housed in a cell, especially after the chains. She breathed a long held sigh of relief as her eye traveled over the rich tapestries, fine furniture, and warm rugs that graced the chamber they’d been allotted. A hearty fire blazed in the grate.
    She heard a light tapping at the door. A fresh-faced young woman carrying a tray peeked into the chamber, entering when Elayne nodded.
    The girl didn’t bow, and Elayne reminded herself this servant believed she was also a servant. However, the friendly smile warmed her.
    “I’m Micheline. I’m to help watch over the prince and princess. Cook sent food and the healer a salve.”
    Elayne frowned, chewing her lip. Micheline didn’t look like a spy, but she supposed the Comte wanted the castle servants to keep an eye on them. And it was thoughtful of the cook to spare the tired children the long drawn out evening meal in the Hall.
    She removed the top from the jar of ointment and inhaled.
    Spikenard—costly.
    Her opinion of Montbryce and his castle improved a smidgeon. She smoothed the pleasant smelling balm on the children’s sore wrists and ankles, then directed them to the small wooden table and chairs in one corner, where Micheline had placed the food.
    The girl seemed nervous. “I’m sorry the re isn’t enough for you, Elayne. Cook insisted servants must eat in the Hall.”
    Elayne nodded, though it was a blow to her pride, and her empty belly. She could give this serving girl no reason to be curious. “I understand.”
    Perhaps her suspicions were unfounded. Only time would tell. She would have to be wary. Alexandre de Montbryce had impressed her as a man of honor, if quick to take offense. She wondered what went on behind those piercing blue eyes. Was he married? Such a well-muscled, attractive man must have had many women to choose from. There had been no comtesse present at the interview.
    He seemed old to be unmarried. Perhaps he was a widower. If he had sons and daughters, they might be playmates for Henry and Claricia.
    What did it matter? She had more important things to worry about.
    The food from the Montbryce kitchens was of the finest quality. Henry and Claricia wolfed down the roasted chicken she cut up for them. They even ate the carrots—a miracle. Her belly growled, but she would not take food from her children’s plates, especially in front of the watchful Micheline.
    After supper, s he tucked the children into bed, thankful for clean, vermin-free linens. They fell asleep before she reached the end of their favorite lullaby. The familiar song helped soothe her too.
    Gu robh neart na cruinne leat, 'S neart na grèine.
    “May you indeed have the strength of the universe, and the strength of the sun, my angels.”
    Micheline smiled at the sleeping infants. “You have a beautiful voice, Elayne.”
    She had always found solace in singing, especially to her children. She smiled her thanks to Micheline, the knot inside her easing.
    But her hunger and thirst grew. She had to keep up her strength if they were to survive this ordeal. Going without food would only weaken her.
    “ Milord Comte will expect you in the Hall,” Micheline reminded.
    Common sense won out. If filling