To Defy a King Read Free Page B

longing for spring like all of us - and eager for news of you, of course.'

    'As soon as the weather improves I'll ride down to Framlingham and see her.'

    'It might be sooner than that.'

    'Oh?' Hugh arched a questioning eyebrow.

    The Earl glanced at his other sons. 'After dinner will do. I want to talk to you alone and uninterrupted.'

    He would not be drawn and Hugh had no choice but to control his curiosity.

    After a modest Lenten supper of fish stew and bread, Ralph disappeared to skin his wolves. William, too fastidious to join him, went to play dice with the knights, having been ordered to make himself scarce.

    As he waited for his father to speak, Hugh was tense with anticipation.
    Something momentous was afoot.

    Standing with his back to the fire, the Earl cleared his throat. 'William Marshal has approached me and offered his eldest daughter Mahelt in marriage to you.'

    The news came as no surprise but Hugh's stomach still sank. His father had been studying prospective brides for some time. The Marshal's daughter was one of several names on the list.

    'I told him we would consider the proposal and I would give my answer when I had spoken with you.'

    'She is not yet eleven years old.' Hugh's initial thought emerged as words, although he had only half meant to speak.

    'She will grow swiftly and you are still young for marriage. I was beyond thirty when I wed your mother, and the Marshal almost twice your age when he took Isabelle of Leinster to wife. What matters is the honour and prestige of a tie with the Marshals, and the affinity the girl will bring.'

    Hugh thought back to dancing with Mahelt Marshal at the Christmas feast in Canterbury. She was tall for her age and as lean as a gazehound. He remembered her hair in particular - shiny dark brown glinted with rich bronze. He had enjoyed her nimble, lively company, but she was a boisterous child, not a wife to wed and bed. Indeed, when he thought of the Marshal family, the Earl and Countess came to mind, not Mahelt. At court, he had been far more smitten by Countess Isabelle who, in her early thirties, was a strong and alluring woman.

    'It bothers you, I can see.'

    Hugh cupped his chin. 'There may not be many years separating girl from woman, but what if she should die in the meantime? Her dowry will no longer be secured to our estates and other offers will have passed us by.'

    'That is a risk we take,' his father conceded, 'but Mahelt Marshal is not sickly; all of her brothers and sisters are as robust as destriers.' A gleam entered the older man's eyes. 'Good breeding stock.'

    Hugh exhaled with sardonic amusement.

    His father sobered. 'There will not be a better offer than this.'

    Hugh knew his father's astute brain and reasoning abilities were what made the King value him as a judge and counsellor. He would have weighed the advantages and pitfalls of the match, and have answers for every point Hugh might raise. 'I bow to your will, sire,' he said. 'I know my duty to the family and my concerns are not objections.'

    His father's lips curved in a half-smile. 'Nevertheless, your doubts are commendable. I am pleased to have raised a son who can think for himself.
    The lord Marshal desires only a betrothal at this stage, and to leave the marriage until the girl is old enough for the full duties of a wife.'

    'Is she to live with us?' Hugh's tone was bland, but he was secretly unsettled at the notion of having a child-wife to his name, even if she would be mostly under his mother's wing.

    'Not until the marriage, which will not take place until she is of an age for successful child-bearing. The Earl of Pembroke suggests the betrothal itself take place at Caversham after Lent.'

    'As you wish, sire,' Hugh said with relief that he was not imminently to be saddled with a bride.

    His father held out his cup for Hugh to refill. 'Good then, it is settled, apart from negotiating the fine details of dowry and bride price. The King will have to give his