Infamous Read Free

wild devil who teased me unmercifully with a ferret and threatened to throw me in the water. I stayed away from the river.”
    â€œOoh, I warrant his ferret was furry!”
    Jory dissolved into giggles. “I missed my chance to find out.”
    â€œThat’s better. Now go to bed, and don’t wake me before nine.”
    Â 
    Princess Joanna stood impatiently for the last fitting of her wedding dress. She was surrounded by the queen’s sewing women and the ladies-in-waiting of her own household while the Plantagenet-blue-and-gold gown was adjusted. “I shall scream if you keep me standing here a moment longer. Get me out of the damn thing!”
    One intrepid matron protested, “It still needs—”
    Jory saw the fury on Joanna’s face that preceded an explosion of royal temper and she smoothly intervened. “It is perfect! Even you cannot improve on perfection, madam.” She helped Joanna from the yards of rustling blue samite interwoven with glistening gold threads and handed the garment to the head seamstress.
    Half an hour later the two friends stood atop the Round Tower, shielding their eyes from the brilliant autumn sunshine as they watched nobles and their retinues enter through the gates and ride into Windsor’s Lower Ward.
    â€œThere!” Joanna flung up her arm and pointed. “I recognize the de Clare chevrons.” She stared hard, trying to pick her future husband from the score of men who rode beneath the banners that displayed the de Clare device. Her eyes focused on their leader. She’d seen Gilbert before while growing up, but paid little heed. “The highest noble in the realm is attired like a common soldier.”
    Jory looked where she pointed. The rider removed his helmet, but he was too far away to see if he looked like an old man.
    â€œHa! Gilbert the red is now Gilbert the gray! I wonder if the fiery temper that goes with red hair has faded?” Joanna glanced triumphantly at her friend. “I shall dazzle and beguile him and have him eating from my hand like a besotted lapdog in no time.”
    Jory did not hear one word of Joanna’s vow. Her full attention was riveted on a commanding figure clad in sable breastplate and plumed helm astride a black stallion. A tall black wolfhound stalked beside him, and though his retinue was fewer than a dozen, the other riders in the Lower Ward moved aside to make way for the striking nobleman. His pride of carriage and the power he exuded were obvious, even from this distance. Jory’s legs suddenly felt weak and she grasped the stone battlement to steady herself.
    Who is he? Jory’s eyes lifted to his banner, which displayed a golden bear against a field of black, but her thoughts were in such disarray she could not identify the device. Irresistibly her gaze was drawn back to the man as if she thirsted for the sight of him. Her heart began to hammer as she watched him wheel his horse in the direction of Gilbert of Gloucester. The earl’s attendants fell back as he approached, and Jory wondered if it was respect or fear that compelled them. The thought made her quiver and she licked her lips as her mouth suddenly went dry. The two men spoke, then laughed together, and it was obvious to her that the pair were well acquainted.
    â€œSince de Clare’s been traveling for at least three days, the next hours will be taken up with bathing and changing. I won’t meet my lapdog until the banquet tonight, so I’m blessedly free of him for now,” Joanna said blithely.
    Jory’s imagination took flight, trying to picture the black knight stark naked as he stepped into a bath of steaming water. Her mind’s eye painted a portrait that was vexingly vague and she felt an overwhelming desire to see him in clear, explicit detail.
    Joanna sought escape. “I think I’ll go for a gallop in Windsor Forest…perhaps take a hawk. Will you join me?”
    â€œYour other