Revenge of the Rose Read Free Page B

the gate. Then with its midriff inflating, it whinnied long and loud into the afternoon breeze. Jouglet leapt back. The other horses’ ears pricked up, and Willem’s horse, Atlas, let loose too, to be answered by a similar neighing out in the hills.
    The siblings exchanged knowing glances and announced in one voice, with amused resignation, “Erec.”
    Then Lienor whispered, “Let’s slip out the river gate and have mother tell him we are away for the day.”
    Willem frowned and shifted the hawk to his other arm a moment, stretching his shoulder. “That is rude and deceitful, Lienor.”
    “From what I’ve heard of Erec, I don’t blame her,” Jouglet said. “Your irrepressible cousin, correct? Your little squire?”
    Willem was surprised. “Have you two never actually met? In three years? Yes, he’s the infamous cousin. And squire.” He grinned. “He’s also your rival for the lady’s hand.”
    Lienor craned her neck to see around Willem and smiled down at Jouglet. “No he’s not,” she assured the minstrel.
    “If he’s your squire, he has to do what you tell him, so just send him away,” Jouglet suggested breezily.
    Willem wondered how much he would have to explain; he did not like to talk about this, even to a close confidant. “He was training as my squire, but he has just unexpectedly become my lord— “
    “Your lord?” Jouglet echoed. “Your lord is Alphonse, Count of Burgundy, you are not subservient to some lesser— “
    Lienor pursed her lips; Willem flushed, but his expression did not change, and he ignored Jouglet’s interjection. “Erec is younger than I am, younger even than Lienor, barely seventeen. But he’s got an uncanny way with horses, and he’s been an excellent squire, which pleased the family— knighthood is a good calling for a second son— “
    “— but then his father and older brother both met their Maker in the same week, and suddenly he is lord of a sizable estate,” Lienor concluded.
    “But he’s not your lord?” Jouglet pursued, looking confused. “You’re your own man, aren’t you? Besides homage to the king and count, of course.”
    The siblings exchanged unreadable glances; the small falcon, sensing her master’s unease, mewled briefly, and Willem was glad of the excuse to coo calmingly at it rather than answer the question.
    Jouglet gestured helpfully to the grand homestead around them. “What is this?”
    “Uncle Raimond’s charity— or now, his son Erec’s,” Lienor said, without a trace of self-pity. Wanting a return to levity, she cackled, rubbing her soft pale hands together around the leather reins. “The bait to lure fat little husbands into our diabolical web of poverty.”
    Willem shook his head at her with affectionate disapproval. “It’s not quite so dire, Lienor.” And to Jouglet: “Our father was killed a month before her birth, and he had made no provisions for her.”
    “And men want heiresses,” Jouglet concluded, understanding.
    Willem nodded. “Although we receive offers from those who would never consider such a poor girl if she were not so charming.”
    Lienor’s smile was somehow both bashful and proud; it was just the sort of smile that might make one the most beautiful woman in Burgundy. “I never receive them when you’re visiting, Jouglet, since you’re much more satisfying company. But they do bring remarkable gifts. I have more jewelry and dress gowns than— “
    “Yes, but most of them would just take you for a mistress,” Willem said tersely. “And we’ve no idea what to do about poor Erec. He’s a good lad, really, but he’s still adjusting to his sudden acquisition of lordship. It makes him buffoonish sometimes, especially toward Lienor— “
    At that moment the gate swung open, and they turned grudgingly to receive the visitor.
    Erec was close enough in kin to resemble each of the siblings: like Lienor he was fair-haired; like Willem he had a soldier’s build. But there similarities