Free April Munday by His Ransom

Rosamunde knew that she would never do anything of that kind herself. She had been betrothed to Simon and he had kissed her three times; once at their betrothal, once on a hunt and once when he had said goodbye before he went to France. She had loved Simon, yet she had never longed for his touch or just to hear his voice as she did with Richard.  Did that mean that she loved Richard? Was her heart so fickle that she could hear of the death of the man she loved on one day and a few days later be in love with another man? It was true that she had not seen Simon for more than a year and had spent much of that year thinking that he might not return. But above all else there was the threat of siege. Whether or not she loved Richard would be unimportant if Sir Walter took her and she needed to think and plan for the siege, because she did not want to be Sir Walter’s wife.
    Of course, it was not her place to want anything. It was her place to obey her father. Since he did not want her to be Sir Walter’s wife, it was acceptable for her to find it unacceptable. But she could have no desires of her own. As much as she might find Richard attractive, and she did, she could not go down that path without her father’s permission. Yet she still came back to it. Richard was a cripple, he was poor and he was French, but he was the most attractive man she had ever met. She had to admit to herself that he was more alive than Simon had ever been. He was unlike Simon. He talked little and smiled less, but there was an intensity to him that Rosamunde found intoxicating. He was aloof, but his eyes seemed to pierce her soul. When he spoke she had to listen to him; his voice was commanding and it seemed to communicate with her very soul. But she dared not examine the roots of her attraction, for she already knew that it was lust. That he was her intellectual equal, she was ready to acknowledge. Even Simon had not been her equal. His one failing had been that he had assumed that he was her better in everything. Rosamunde knew that it was wicked of her to assume that she could be the equal of any man, but she knew that she had bettered Simon in wit and intelligence, although he had denied it. Richard seemed to accept that she could be his equal in intelligence and it was exhilarating. She tried to tell herself that he was her prisoner and he would try to appease her, but she knew that he did not. He was aloof in many ways, but his acceptance of her as an equal in this regard was complete and unforced.
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    Rosamunde willingly gave permission for Richard to study with Margaret, but despite his promise, she insisted on the presence of someone else for the sake of propriety and this in turn induced Thomas to give his permission. Richard was slightly disturbed that Thomas had not given his permission freely and was even more disturbed when he realised that the woman Rosamunde intended to chaperone Margaret was herself. He had found himself enjoying her company more and more and frequently forgot that he was her prisoner when he was with her. Her beauty brought light each day to the castle that was every bit as cold and damp as he had feared. But he could not afford to forget what she was and who he was. She was his gaoler and no matter how pleasant she was making his imprisonment and no matter how much she relied on him, and he was coming to believe that she relied on him as much as she did on Thomas and Guy, he could not forget that she was not the woman he was looking for, could not be the woman and he could not allow himself to imagine that she might be. At least her presence should keep the other women away. That would make it easier to keep his promise to her. It had not taken him long to realises that none of the women was suitable, even for a temporary mistress. He had not regretted giving his word, but still they found ways to brush past him in passageways, to stand closer than was necessary in the hall after