Free Godiva by Nicole Galland Page B

were that had been carted in barrels up from Gloucester. The vegetables and bread were mushy from being reheated several times whenever the porter thought the earl was arriving. But the seasonings were splendid compared to the dull fare of the abbey, or even of the king’s kitchen. The table was decorated with primrose and sweet violet blossoms and painted eggs taken from a growing pile resting in straw near the entrance to the kitchens.
    She was seated beside him, as the honored guest. Throughout the meal, she was distracted by his presence. She wished that he were not so handsome, that his voice were not so resonant, that his shoulders were not quite so broad. She began to resent him for it. Halfway through the meal, he rose to circulate among his reeves and servants, to greet them after his absence. Her whole right side felt colder and somehow lonely when he was no longer near her, and she felt far too happy when he returned, even though he did not acknowledge her. She tried to turn her mind from noticing him at all and recited the Pater Nostrum in silence to regain her composure. Over and over again she did it, until she was successful; Sweyn moved away again at one point and she did not even notice. There, you see? she told herself. ’Tis nothing. I am well.
    On the Road
    T he earl and lady of Mercia, and the earl’s son Alfgar, reached holy Evesham that evening as a light rain began. The abbot of St. Mary’s graciously received them after Compline services were done.
    They had ridden on good horses at a moderate pace that was too hard for idle chatter. But still Leofric seemed more taciturn than usual. In the small, low-ceilinged room where the couple would sleep that night, as they were rinsing the road dust off their faces, Leofric did not look at her, and responded to attempts at conversation with indistinct, disinterested grunts. She stretched her limbs gracefully but broadly, directly in his line of sight, lunging from one knee to the other to relieve the tension of a day in the saddle. Leofric always, always, watched her when she did this, enjoying the flash of ankle she revealed. This time he ignored her. Was he upset with her for testing Sweyn? For prompting those other lords to support Edgiva’s charter?
    â€œWhat have you done with my husband?” Godiva asked him finally, standing straight and removing her travel veil.
    He was taken aback. “What?”
    â€œI am in possession of one husband, who, while not known for expansive lightheartedness, is still a commendable partner for conversation and even the odd bit of banter. Whoever you are, you have taken possession of his body and I demand to know where you have put the rest of him.”
    Leofric attempted, wanly, to smile. “He is off worrying about things,” he said. “And he did not want you to worry with him.”
    â€œBut I always worry with him. I am extremely good at lightening his load.”
    â€œPerhaps this time you are his load.”
    She frowned as she unpinned her wimple. “Oh, I see what this is about, then. Too much flirtation, is it? Even though it was to advance a good cause that surely you support?”
    â€œNot too much by my estimation. Too much by the king’s.”
    â€œYes, he had quite the chance of encountering me at moments that looked much naughtier than they were. Poor frightened Aldred—”
    â€œGod’s wounds, it was not chance, Godiva,” Leofric said. “Last evening he assigned two servants to tail you and to report back to him whenever you were in a conversation with any man, even in a public place. I almost believe he wanted me to notice.” He gave her a tight-lipped grimace. “He knows you worked your charms on all the thanes you wrested vows from for the petition. You are quite out of the favor of His Majesty. Which means I might be also. At a time when he is looking for excuses to bare his claws. So as good a cause as it may be, in the