Free I Am Juliet by Jackie French Page B

the heir to the House of Capulet.’ I met his eyes. ‘My lord husband, a Montague, will guide it as my father has.’
    He looked at me in wonderment, then kissed my hand again. ‘I will.’ It was a vow as solemn as those we had made in church. ‘And you will be the empress of my heart, and chief gentlewoman of our land.’
    We smiled at each other in the dimness of the cell. I could see our future rolling out before us, like a footman rolls out a carpet, the years, the days, the hours, spent with my Romeo. Our grandchildren on our knees, ourrobes of heavy silk. The combined house of Montague and Capulet would be the greatest trading house in all of Europe. I saw us receiving guests at a banquet, the Prince bowing over my hand, and Lord Paris too, not my lord at all but just another guest. I would be gracious.
    We were married. It was done. There would be anger from our parents tomorrow, but not for long, not once the Prince gave us his blessing. Nurse must send Peter with a message to the palace … No, I now had a husband who should do that.
    As if he heard my thoughts, Romeo said, ‘I will go directly to the palace and ask a private audience of the Prince.’
    ‘Pray him not to tell our fathers,’ I said. ‘We must have this night together first, so they can’t undo the marriage. Then we will tell our fathers what we have done.’
    ‘When the clock strikes ten tomorrow,’ he said, ‘we tell the world. Let the church bells ring again, for Juliet and Romeo are wed.’
    For the third time he lifted my hand to his lips.
    The friar cleared his throat outside. ‘My Lady Montague,’ he said, and I started as I realised that now that was me. ‘Your men will wonder where you are.’
    We stood. My husband kissed me then. I had thought a kiss a brief dry thing. This was long. I tasted him. He tasted of himself, a scent so sure and strong. The kiss went on and on, growing deeper, closer …
    ‘My Lady Montague.’
    I broke away, but still our gazes locked. I wished we had not spent the half-hour talking, but had kissed instead.
    My husband whispered in my ear, ‘Tonight there shall be a new bright star, made from our love today. Its light will guide all lovers along love’s bright flowered way.’
    I had no words to say to him, no artful phrases. I smiled, and let the friar lead me from the cell, while my husband waited behind so that none would see us together.
    Yet.

Chapter 13
    I sat on the cushions on the balcony, but I did not sew. I sent the Joans away. I watched the petals on the roses in the garden below. I looked at the garden wall. Beyond it was my love.
    I wished that fiery horses would drag the sun down the sky; wished to close the curtains on the day. Let Romeo fly here on the wings of night. I had bought the mansion of my love, but not yet crossed the threshold …
    Tonight he would come and claim me, with the Prince’s blessing. Tomorrow, my mother would glare, my father shout, but I would be gone, my hand in my husband’s.
    I tried to imagine the days after that. We would breakfast in our rooms at first so I would not have to face Lord Montague, for he would be angry too. But surely his anger would pass as he realised his son would now inherit the Capulet wealth?
    I tried to imagine the next Christmas feast, with our families at the table together, a babe in my arms witheyes like Romeo’s. But I could see nothing. How could I dream my love so clearly and not be able to see our years ahead? Why could I imagine Guigemar’s long life, happy with his love, but not my own?
    I knew before Nurse told me. Knew the moment I heard her step. A shadow struck me, cold as night.
    Nurse pushed the curtain aside. Her hands held the rope ladder that would bring my husband to my room. She threw it down as though it were made of snakes, her face shadowed like a mid-winter cliff. I ran into the room.
    ‘What news?’ I asked. ‘Nurse, tell me fast, what news!’
    ‘He’s dead. He’s dead! Lady, we are undone.