Free The Battle of the Queens by Jean Plaidy

even with Isabella; he had dreamed of her for twenty years; she had been an ideal in his life; he had never felt the inclination to marry any other woman. That had disturbed his family, since it was his duty to marry, to give the Lusignans their heir. He had brothers, he had excused himself. It was almost as though something had told him that one day she would come back.
    And then when it had been suggested that he marry her daughter he had agreed to the betrothal. The marriage had seemed years away and like so many, such arrangements might never come to fruition. Moreover it was her daughter; and that had attracted him in some way. When he had seen the child – with a look of Isabella – and she had stirred his pity for she was a little afraid, he had determined to be kind and gentle with her and in due course do his best to make her happy.
    Now Isabella had returned and everything had changed for him.
    He must explain to her that he must marry her daughter. As the child had been brought here for that purpose, it was a matter of honour, and Isabella must return to England. He was determined that that which had happened last night must not happen again.
    She was with the party which went out to the hunt. Little Joan was there too, so pretty in her riding cloak of red Irish cloth, tendrils of her hair straying out from under the matching hood. She rode beside him as she was accustomed to do, so proud because she sat her horse well and rode, as he had once told her, as though she was born to the saddle. Isabella had come up. Beautiful in her favourite blue. Poor little Joan, how insignificant beside her incomparable mother!
    ‘I thought you would elude me,’ she said reproachfully. ‘And you know how I enjoy the hunt.’
    ‘Nay, my lady,’ he said. ‘I give you good welcome.’
    ‘Most gracious Hugh,’ she answered softly. ‘I thought I might not have pleased you.’
    ‘You know how well you please me.’
    Joan listened to their conversation. There was a note in her mother’s voice which told the little girl she was pleased. In fact, Joan had never known her quite so pleased before. Perhaps it was because he was home and very soon now she would be able to go to England.
    How beautiful it was in the pine forest – the lovely pungent smell, the glistening green and the excitement of the chase. Joan rode forward eager to show Hugh that she could keep up with the best of them. She was a little way ahead of him; on she went and the sound of pounding horses’ hoofs went with her.
    She caught a glimpse of the deer; she always felt a little sorry for them and did not greatly care to be in at the kill, though she told no one of this for fear she should be thought foolish. Once she thought that Hugh guessed, for he stayed with her and they rode back to the castle while the bearers brought in the deer. He had smiled at her very tenderly and she had loved him more than ever, because it suddenly occurred to her that he understood her thoughts without her having to express them and that he would keep her secrets, for he was going to protect her from the whole world.
    She looked around for him, but he was not there. She could not see her mother either.

    Isabella had whispered: Hugh, I must speak to you.’
    She turned her horse and rode off while he followed. In the distance they could hear the baying of the dogs, and she rode on fast; he was close behind.
    She pulled up and flashed her brilliant smile at him, holding out her hand. He took it and kissed it eagerly.
    ‘We will dismount and tether the horses; ’tis easier to talk that way.’
    ‘Isabella, I think we should return to the party … or to the castle.’
    She laughed – it was the way in which she had laughed in the darkness of his bedchamber. She had already dismounted.
    ‘Come, Hugh,’ she said, ‘or are your afraid of me?’
    He leaped down and tethering his horse beside hers, turned to her eagerly. He held her fast.
    ‘There is no doubt, is there,’ she