The Bride Of Spring

Few would believe that she had done this in order to discover all she could about a man she did not even know, even if she could explain her reasons to them. Yet Raine did not wish to worry about the possibility of being found out. All she had heard of Benedict Ainsworth had made her even more intrigued by him. He seemed a good, decent man, willing to give up his own property and money to protect the reputation of his brother’s wife and her child.

As Raine listened to Benedict give the specifics of what he was willing to offer, she was again moved by his care for his family. If only she had a man to look after her in that way, someone like Ainsworth! Things might have been different for her if only there had been someone who felt a family affiliation to herself and William.

But there was only Denley, and he cared nothing for them. Of that she was sure. He pretended a great interest in herself, but Raine knew of his longtime mistress, of their children.

He kept them openly at his own home. Raine was somewhat surprised that he would not expect her to have had word of them. Perhaps he simply gave it no thought whatsoever. Many men kept both a mistress and a wife, though not nearly so openly.

If Raine were ever to marry a man with the intention of actually living with him, she would never allow herself to be so blatantly dishonored. If she were not required to wed for the sake of protecting William and his lands she would…Her thoughts trailed down a list of qualities she would desire in a man.

He would favor her with a modicum of respect.

He would be kind.

He would have his own wealth and thus would not wish to take what was William’s.

He would behave with honor.

He would understand the meaning of family.

Again she found herself becoming aware of the two men’s voices. She could not help noting that Benedict Ainsworth’s seemed somehow deeper and richer than the king’s. At the same moment she realized that they sounded closer than before.

Obviously the men were coming toward her. She strained to see through the dense velvet. If only she could give face to the voice she heard! Surely they were too intent on their conversation to pay her any heed. Moving ever so carefully, she peeked out from behind the curtain.

And realized that the two men had moved even nearer than she had imagined and were standing mere feet from her. The heaviness of the drape had muffled the sound of their voices and made them seem farther away. She quickly drew back, but not before she had glimpsed the face of Benedict Ainsworth. It was an arresting face, with kindness, warmth and firmness of character displayed in the smooth wide brow and the slight lines around his eyes. It was also a handsome face, with its pleasantly modeled and strong features, including a regal, straight nose and a pair of intense eyes of a startlingly deep cobalt-blue. Those direct and compelling eyes were surrounded by thick black lashes the same color as his raven hair.

Raine’s heart felt like a throbbing drum in her chest, even though she was sure they had not seen her, for neither had been looking in her direction.

Under no circumstances did she wish to be caught. Again she asked herself who would believe that she had hidden herself here for the reasons she had. Even if they would, she would not wish to admit her motives to either Edward or Ainsworth himself.

At the thought of Benedict Ainsworth, another image of that pleasing face flashed though her mind. In spite of the risk, she felt a compelling desire to look at him again, to see if she had only imagined such an attractive visage.

Benedict and Edward looked up at the same moment as the steward appeared in the door once more. “Your grace, an envoy has arrived with a reply to your message to France. I have taken him to a private chamber as you requested me to do upon his arrival.”

Edward was very suddenly a king again as he replied, “I come.”

He nodded to Benedict, who bowed deeply even as Edward left the chamber. The steward, taking care to pretend that he was not watching Benedict, moved to tidy the glasses they had used.

Benedict turned to go. He was finished here, for the moment at any rate. Edward had voiced surprise at Benedict’s generosity in the keep and monies he would provide to Harcourt’s brother, but he had given his approval to the transfer of goods.

It was as Benedict swung around to go out the far door that he noted the presence of two small, dark green slippers just visible beneath the edge of the scarlet drapery. The fact that the intruder was female seemed apparent and kept him from being overconcerned. Yet he grew very still, and a pensive frown creased his brow even as he saw a pale face surrounded by a cloud of auburn hair appear at the edge of the drape. A pair of golden eyes widened in horror as they met his own.

The face was definitely that of a woman. And an extremely pretty one. Surprised, Benedict started toward her without thinking.

The steward chose that moment to turn back to Benedict. He spoke with just the proper degree of deference, though it seemed obvious that he would prefer for Benedict to be on his way. “Is there something wrong, my lord?”

Benedict halted, his gaze searching the female’s eyes, now filled with panic.

“My lord?” The steward spoke again, more insistently.

Her gaze darkened with pleading even as her hands came up to cover her pink lips. For a moment as he looked into those eyes Benedict felt as if he had fallen into a vat of liquid gold that swirled around him as he floated effortlessly in its warmth.

Something, an urge he could not name, made him close his lips on the words that would expose her position. Instead he cast the mysterious female a warning glance. Her face disappeared behind the curtain again as he turned to the steward. “Nay, I was just leaving. I was wondering if you might tell me where my horse will have been stabled?” Benedict knew it was a poor excuse. Never would he allow the stallion to be stabled without knowing the exact conditions, but the steward was not aware of this.

Benedict waited as the servant moved to join him at the door. He knew the woman could not escape from her hiding place until the steward left the chamber. Still, Benedict did not know why he would aid the unknown woman; he simply could not seem to do otherwise.

The man nodded, saying, “As you will, my lord,” and led him from the room. Although he had a nearly overwhelming urge to do so, Benedict did not look back over his shoulder for fear of giving her away.

Her heart pounding like a drum in her chest, Raine escaped from behind the curtain as soon as the men were gone. Why had she given in to the urge to look at Benedict Ainsworth one more time? She had convinced herself that he would be too occupied with King Edward’s leaving to heed her. She was shocked at her own lunacy. Even more confusing, why had the baron, a stranger, helped her? She could think of no ready answer and could only feel grateful that he had done so.

Now more than ever she felt intrigued by the man named Benedict Ainsworth. Recalling the fathomless depths of his dark-lashed eyes, which seemed far too blue to be real, she felt just the slightest bit attracted to him, as well.

Instantly Raine halted herself, feeling nothing but misgivings over such a thought. She was not interested in him or any other man in that way. She knew what she was looking for and why. Nothing else, no other consideration, must be allowed to interfere in her plans. To allow any other thought was to open herself to possible disaster. William’s welfare must come first and last with her. If there was a possibility that Benedict Ainsworth was the right man to protect William, then she must meet with him, speak with him.

As she considered how best to try to come into contact with the man again, she felt a strange thrill ripple down her spine. There was no denying that he was the most fascinating man she had ever seen, not just because of his handsomely chiseled face or his obvious physical presence and vigor. The man exuded an air of quiet strength that drew her as a cricket is drawn to the scent of rain.

Again she told herself she could not allow such a thing to sway her. That having been decided, Raine felt much easier in her interest in the man. She was doing this for William. With a sigh of resolution, she went directly to her assigned chamber. The very tiny room had no window and one large bed with threadbare velvet hangings that might once have been gold but had yellowed to an uninviting shade. It was not an attractive or even a comfortable room, with its well-worn stone floor and roughly made furnishings—a table and two hard benches pulled close to the narrow hearth, which smoked profusely each time it was lit.

Raine could have been housed with some of the other ladies of the court, but she had not wished to be separated from her brother or Aida.

They looked up the moment she opened the door. Taking a deep breath, Raine informed them, “Well, my loves, I have just seen our most promising prospect yet.”

Predictably, Aida got to her feet and began to pace, wringing her hands. “Dear heavens, Lady Raine, are you sure that this is what you should do? ’Haps we should forget all of this talk of finding a husband and go home to Abbernathy Park, leave things as they are.”

Raine felt herself stiffen. She above all people would like to go home and pretend that everything was well, that they would be fine. That option was not available to her, for Denley would certainly be there the moment she arrived.

Someone had to see to the future, and she was the only one who could do so, no matter how difficult it might be. But they had been over all of this before. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Aida, please, let us not discuss it all again. I need you to help me now.”

William, who had been reading a book, laid it gently on the table and fixed her with a thoughtful gaze. “Who is he, Raine? What is he like?”

Being a newborn babe at the time, he had no memory of the terrible months after their mother’s death. Their father had been so deeply lost in his grief that Raine had been forced to act far beyond her eight years. But William did have some understanding of why she was so determined in this now. He had been at their father’s bedside the night he’d died, knew how serious he had been in his request for Raine to look after everything. None of them had ever expected the elder William to go when his son was so very young. Their father had been in the prime of his life, strong and seemingly invincible in Raine’s eyes. The illness that had taken his life had come on so rapidly that none of them could ever have been prepared for his death.

And since that time Raine had not allowed herself to feel her own pain, had taken all her anguish and turned it into an unshakable determination to take care of William as her father wished. Her brother was not a robust boy, though he had a soundness of character and intellect that more than made up for it in her eyes. His physical vulnerability only made her all the more resolved to do what she must.

Quickly Raine told them what had happened in the audience chamber.

Now William seemed as concerned as Aida. “You hid behind a curtain and eavesdropped upon the king of England and this man? Raine, have you gone completely mad? What would have happened had you been caught? You could have been accused of spying or treason, or…”

She went to him and laid a comforting hand upon his arm, her tone contrite. “I was not caught.” She suddenly realized how terrible it would have been for him if she had been arrested and accused of some wrongdoing. Who would have seen to William’s interests then?

“But you could have been. And you say this man saw you? He might still decide to tell someone you had been there.” William’s green eyes revealed concern and a clear sense of his protectiveness toward her, giving her a hint of the fine man he would grow to be.

Raine spoke with a conviction that came from some inner knowing she could not explain. “Ainsworth will tell no one.”

Aida’s rejoinder was filled with fear. “How do you know this, Lady Raine? You just laid eyes upon the man.”

Raine was unable to meet the maid’s searching gaze as she said, “He will say nothing.” That inner knowing seemed only to grow each time she considered the matter. Benedict Ainsworth would not betray her.

Chapter Two

Raine readied herself for the meal with even more care than she had shown on previous occasions since coming to court. She was determined to make herself known to Benedict Ainsworth, and prayed he would appear in the hall.

That she must explain her presence behind the curtain in the audience chamber, she knew. Somehow she would think of something. Her real purpose, that of discovering whether or not Lord Ainsworth would be a suitable guardian for William, was foremost in her mind.

Raine entered the splendor of the great hall with mixed feelings of dread and anticipation. She paid scant attention to the lush tapestries that lined the walls, the dark beamed ceiling overhead or the elegantly garbed courtiers, who crowded about the tables consuming roast meats, stews, fowl of various varieties, fine bread and copious amounts of wine and ale. She did note, though, that Edward was not in attendance at the high table, for his heavy, carved chair stood empty. Raine felt unaccountably relieved at this, though she was quite sure that Ainsworth had not told him of her presence in his chamber.

Her mind was firmly fixed on the matter at hand. The thought that she might actually be nearer to accomplishing her goal of finding someone to give William the protection of his name—a husband—was both terrifying and strangely exciting. It was especially so when she recalled how tall and handsome the man under consideration was.

Raine pushed this last thought away. She could not think about such things. To do so would be to risk allowing them to cloud her judgment about Benedict Ainsworth being the right man to protect William and his lands. And that was all he need do. She had no desire for a true marriage. She had Abbernathy and her brother to look to.

She squared her shoulders beneath the heavy sapphire velvet of her gown and let her gaze sweep the room. When she did not immediately locate the baron among the throng, she took a deep breath and searched again, more slowly. There was no sign of those unmistakable broad shoulders, nor his raven hair.

Disappointment made her own shoulders slump. Even though she had known there was no guarantee of his attendance, she had not actually believed Lord Ainsworth would be absent.

Benedict had considered the notion of joining his men at the inn in which they were staying. There he could dine and drink in relaxed company. He disliked court life at the best of times.

Yet something made him remain at Westminster. He could not stop thinking of the young woman whose presence in the king’s chamber he had concealed. The more he thought about her, the more he knew that he must discover what she had been doing there. Surely he had been quite mad to shield her as he had.

His doing so made him responsible for finding out what she had been about. He wanted no crime against the crown upon his conscience. For that was the only purpose he could imagine for her being there, though for some reason he was fairly certain that was not why she had been.

A sudden notion struck him as he paused in the doorway of the great hall. Perhaps she was infatuated with Edward.

Benedict was surprised at how much this thought displeased him. He told himself it was because she had seemed, even in the moment that he had looked into her eyes, to have an air of innocence about her. She would not retain it long were she to become involved with the king of England. Edward was already known for his way with women.

Benedict shrugged, albeit stiffly, as he entered the crowded chamber. If that was where the woman’s interest lay, the outcome was her own quandary. He meant only to learn if she had been up to some other devilment.

He had no trouble finding her among the throng. Though her back was to him, and he had seen her only once, he would recognize that red hair anywhere. Tonight it was escaping her blue pearled headdress. She was seated some distance from the head table, which implied modest status. Again curiosity gripped him.

A strange anticipation filled him as he made his way among the tables to her side. Benedict stopped beside her and she looked up at him, those golden eyes of hers widening in surprise and, dared he believe it, pleasure. He found himself thinking of his first impression—that she was quite pretty. He realized that he had been in error there. She was far more than pretty with those surprisingly dark lashed, golden eyes. Her nose was straight and aristocratic, her chin firm but not stubborn. Her mouth was pleasingly curved and lovely, and as she began to smile, it turned up slightly more on one side than the other in a way that he thought amazingly endearing.

An odd warmth suffused him and he found himself simply standing there, staring down at her like a besotted calf. His confusion over his unprecedented reaction made him speak with more gruffness than he intended. “May I sit here with you?”

Her smile faded somewhat and a pensive frown marred her brow. “You are welcome to do so, my lord.”

He realized that he had been less than civil, but concentrated on his desire to learn why she had been in the king’s chamber. Once he had taken the place on the bench next to her, Benedict found the proximity to her slightly unnerving. For he could not move without his own shoulder brushing against hers. And each time it did so he knew a far too heady sense of his own masculinity in comparison to her delicate womanliness.

Because of his own disturbance he lost no time in getting to the point. “My lady?”

She looked up from contemplation of her glass. “My lord?”

Again he was struck by the color of those amazing eyes of hers. He looked away, forcing himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. He kept his voice low. “I have come here this evening in hope of finding you so that you might have opportunity to explain why you were in the king’s chamber this morn, when he had expressly sent everyone away.”

Her voice was eager as she said, “Oh, of course, my lord. I have no wish to hide anything from you, and I do hope you realize how very grateful I am for your discretion this morn.” Her lids fluttered down over those incredibly beautiful and ingenuous gold eyes.

“Well?” he prodded, not pleased with his thoughts.

She spoke softly. “Firstly, please allow me to introduce myself, my lord. My name is Raine Blanchett.”

He made no reply to this, though he could not help thinking that the name Raine somehow suited her perfectly. He was immediately and unaccountably reminded of the last time he had seen his father. The six Ainsworths had been standing on the docks beside the ship that would take his parents to visit his mother’s sister in Scotland. It had been raining, and his father had reached into his pouch and removed a gold coin. That coin had glistened in the rain as his father said, “Take your brothers about the town before you go home.”

His mother had showed concern. “Should he do so, Benedict? The younger boys can be quite unruly.”

His father had smiled and put an affectionate hand on her shoulder as he’d met his namesake’s gaze. “Aye, Leticia, I trust him to look after them in my stead.”

Benedict had never forgotten that moment, nor his father’s faith in him. He was not sure why the color of Raine’s eyes reminded him of it, or why that was so unsettling.

Raine had gone on at his silence. “Allow me to admit I should not have been where I was. It was completely foolhardy of me. I had hidden behind the curtain because I was attempting to avoid someone who would not cease in his efforts to speak to me and then…” She stared down at her hands. “I could not very well come out while you and King Edward were…What would he have thought?”

Benedict felt slightly uneasy with this almost too earnest explanation. He scowled. “Your words seem somewhat strained to me. I begin to think I may have good cause to go to King Edward on this matter.”

She looked at him then, her eyes wide with horror. “No, please, my lord. I beg you not to do that. I swear on my own father’s grave that I meant no harm to king or crown by my actions. I have no interest whatsoever in any of the king’s business.”

Now Benedict believed. There could be no doubting her sincerity this time. Whatever had brought her to commit such a rash act, it had not been treason.

For some reason he breathed an inner sigh of relief. He told himself it was because he was glad to have had no part in any plot against the king. But he found himself paying undue attention to the way a stray curl brushed the side of Raine Blanchett’s cheek as she looked down.

His gaze moved over her pearl-dotted headdress, then down the sleeve of her matching gown of blue velvet. Obviously the woman was not suffering financial lack. He recalled the fine green slippers she had worn earlier in the day. He would likely never forget the surprise of seeing those unmistakably female feet peeking out from beneath that curtain. He suddenly realized he was smiling.

Instantly he schooled his expression to a more grave one. There was certainly no reason to smile over what she had done. He felt he must warn her to try to think about the consequences of such acts. “I will take your word, Lady Raine. But I suggest you mind your ways in the future. Should I learn you have ever again done such a thing, I will go to King Edward. And make no mistake, my departure from court two days hence will not prevent me from hearing.”

An unfathomable expression of disappointment seemed to pass over her features as he finished. She said only, “Oh, thank you, my lord, you are the most kind and chivalrous of men. I will do nothing to betray your faith in me.”

Her vow, though spoken in a low voice, was so heartfelt he found himself touched by it. He was also slightly overwhelmed by her seemingly genuine flattery of himself. Why, she did not even know him. What an enigma she was, this Raine Blanchett. Benedict realized that his brief acquaintance with her had certainly been interesting—more interesting than any such acquaintance in his memory.

He caught himself immediately. He had no need of interesting things to occur in his life. He was quite busy enough running his estates and caring for his family. It was all he had done in the ten years since his parents had died, and all he wanted to do.

Raine was more impressed with this man by the moment, though his revelation that he was leaving in two days was not encouraging. He had certainly seen through the lie she had told him about hiding from the unwanted attentions of a would-be suitor. Yet he had believed her when she’d spoken of not wanting to bring any harm to the crown. How very astute he seemed.

She could not help smiling with secret approval as she looked up…and saw Denley Trent standing at the end of the room. Her pleasure turned to a groan of despondency. Denley was the last man she expected or wished to see.

Her pained gaze trailed over him. He was dressed in what was obviously a new scarlet velvet houppelande of the type preferred by the more daring of the courtiers. ’Twas short to the point of indecency, and the long dagged sleeves seemed too feminine against his large hands. The lumbering Denley was not made for such fashion.

His very presence was like a weight upon her shoulders. What manner of man was he to follow her here to court? Indeed, where would he stop in his persistence to see both herself and William beneath his thumb?

Raine glanced up at Benedict Ainsworth. How different he was from Denley. Having a man such as him at her side would surely make her cousin reconsider his dogged determination to have her.

But Ainsworth was now talking with the nobleman to his right. Though she had gone to great trouble to make herself appealing, he seemed interested in nothing save her intentions toward King Edward. Now that she had made herself clearer to him on that score he appeared to have lost interest in her completely. And with Cousin Denley having arrived, what was she to do?