The King's Damsel Read Free

words had me sitting up straighter and staring at him in consternation.
    “I know nothing at all,” Blanche replied. “I have never heard his name before today. That being so, how is it possible that he has any right to interfere in Tamsin’s inheritance?”
    She had set her goblet aside, the herbal brew it contained untouched. Her hands, clasped tightly together in her lap, betrayed how tense she was. I realized then that she feared to hear what Hugo would say. She suspected that the claim in the letter was true, even if she did not understand how that could be possible.
    “If he has the legal papers to back up his claim, then he may have every right.” Hugo snapped out his answer, the words striking like angry lashes of a whip.
    “But who could grant him Tamsin’s guardianship?” Blanche asked. “I am certain her father never did.”
    “Daggett must have purchased her wardship from the king.”
    The ferocious scowl on Hugo’s face would have warned most people not to ask any further questions. I was too astonished to be wary. “The king ?” King Henry, eighth of that name, lived far away from Hartlake Manor. He’d never even visited Glastonbury or Bristol. All the great royal palaces were nearer to London, a journey of many days to our part of England. “Why should the king take an interest in me?”
    “Because you are a considerable heiress, too young as yet to manage your inheritance on your own and lacking a husband to do it for you.” Calmer now, Hugh’s wrath was tempered with bitterness.
    “What business is that of the king’s?” I demanded, building up to a fine rage of my own.
    “He makes it his business because there is profit in it. Once his high and mighty grace has declared that someone is a royal ward, he can then sell that wardship to line his own pockets. This Sir Lionel Daggett, Mistress Thomasine, has bought the right to manage your estate until you come of age.”
    “But I have no need of such a person,” I protested. I had Blanche. And Hugo himself.
    “You have no say in the matter, mistress.” He still looked as if he wanted to kick something across the room. Before he could give in to the urge, he abruptly excused himself and left us.
    I turned to my stepmother, who had finally availed herself of the posset. The faint scent of ginger and herbs calmed me a little, too. I waited until she had drained the goblet.
    “There must be some mistake,” I said in as steady a voice as I could manage. “How could I have been made a royal ward and know nothing of it?”
    “If Hugo’s rage is any guide, such a thing is very possible, but we will not take his word for it. We will go to Glastonbury. I will consult Sir Jasper.”
    Sir Jasper Atwell was Blanche’s favorite priest. Her choice made sense. But something else still puzzled me. “Why do you no longertrust Master Wynn?” I asked. “Father never complained of his stewardship.”
    “Your father had a blind spot where Hugo Wynn was concerned. He relied on him far too much.”
    She rubbed at her temples, as if her head ached, and then, as we were alone, she removed her hood and the pleated barbe she wore beneath it to signify her widowhood. The late afternoon sun turned her hair the color of spun gold.
    “If there is something I should know about Hugo, you must tell me,” I insisted.
    “You are so very young,” she whispered.
    “I am old enough to marry,” I reminded her.
    Blanche sighed. “Ah, well. My suspicions will bear fruit soon enough, and then there will be no hiding their deceitful scheme.” She began to pull pins from her hair, which had been braided and wound tight around her head. “That you have noticed nothing speaks well of your maidenly innocence, Tamsin, but you cannot remain in ignorance much longer. I believe Hugo’s daughter is with child.”
    My eyes widened at this news. “Griselda? But she is not married!”
    Blanche gave a short bark of laughter. “No indeed. All her hopes in that direction