The Dragon and the Jewel Read Free Page B

heads.
    She couldn’t keep her eyes closed for longer than ten seconds, so she lifted her lashes and saw a black spider making its way across her white Bible. She watched in fascination as the insect walked delicately on its eight legs, then as it reached her thumb it very deliberately bit her. Without hesitation she slapped it into the next world. “You bugger!”
    The bishop’s mouth fell open and William opened his eyes quickly to see what she was doing. He reached across firmly and took Eleanor’s small hand into his. It was freezing and his long, brown fingers wrapped about it to control her, to comfort her, to warm her. After that everything went smoothly. She gave her responses solemnly, from the heart.
    William slipped the heavy gold band onto her finger and she clenched her fist tightly to prevent its slipping off. When the long-winded bishop finally pronounced them man and wife, she said ecstatically to William, “I’m the Countess of Pembroke.”
    He smiled down at her and murmured, “Never have I seen anyone step down in rank so graciously.” At the compliment her heart almost burst with love.
    The wedding presents were displayed on trestle tables along the entire length of the banqueting hall The large Marshal family, combining its fortunes in matrimony with the noblest in England, gifted them with magnificent silver plate engraved with the initial M, the finest Venetian crystal, one hundred solid-gold forks, and one hundred sets of Irish bed linen monogrammed with exquisite embroidery.
    Since William was the Justiciar of Ireland and owned all of Leinster, a gift of twenty-five blooded stallions and twenty-five blooded brood mares had been shipped across the Irish Sea. The Earl of Chester had gifted them with ten Oriental silk carpets acquired on his last Crusade. Never to be outdone, Hubert de Burgh, Justiciar of England, had fitted out a luxurious barge, painted in the Marshal colors, which rode at anchor a few hundred feet away in the Thames.
    The barons too had been generous. They may not have liked their young king, but their respect for the Marshal of England ran deep.
    The Earl and Countess of Pembroke sat on carved and padded throne chairs on the dais at King Henry’s right hand. The miniature bride was the focus of all eyes as she sat between the two tall men and graciously thanked each couple who came forward. The people captured her interest far more than their costly gifts as she sorted out the Earl and Countess of Derby from the Earl and Countess of Norfolk. The Marshals werecertainly an attractive family with their chestnut curls and laughing brown eyes.
    William Marshal marveled inwardly at the poise the child displayed as she gravely thanked their guests. There was hope yet that she would grow into a refined lady. He harbored such dread that she might become like her mother that before he agreed to the marriage he stipulated in the marriage contracts how she must be brought up from now on. Alarmingly neglected, she had been allowed the freedom of a wild young animal. First and foremost, her innocence must be guarded day and night. She was to reside at Windsor Castle in a wing that was to be kept separate for females. She was to have her own servants and ladies-in-waiting, and he had asked the Mother Superior of the Order of St. Bride’s to supply two nuns to live in her household on a permanent basis.
    She was to have tutors to educate her fine mind; she was to be taught to read and write and to speak other languages, as well learn etiquette, deportment, and the womanly arts, which the chatelaine of the marshal’s vast estates would need to know.
    William doubted that she would be able to hold up through the long, tiring day, even though the banquet was to end at ten o’clock in deference to her bedtime. However, once they were seated at the banquet table, her reserve and poise disappeared and were replaced by an inquisitive, talkative, bundle of energy.
    The noisy clamor of the