Free Hearts and Crowns by Anna Markland

“I will read for myself before I sign.”
    Not daring to look at her betrothed, she hazarded a glance at her future father-by-marriage, surprised to see a slight smile curving his lips. She drew her eyes back to the parchment, not actually reading, but determined to delay the inevitable. What did she care about the dowry she brought with her or what lands her future husband had endowed her with? Her life was over.
    Her eye lingered only on her betrothed’s full name. He was Gallien Rambaud. Was there a soul in Anjou who had not trembled at mention of the name of Ram de Montbryce, the great hero of the Battle of Hastings, friend, and confidant of the hated Norman Conqueror?
    Gallien’s grandfather.
    Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the impatient tapping of her betrothed’s foot. His irritation gave her a moment’s satisfaction, but she doubted she could delay any longer. Chewing her lower lip, she bent low to the parchment and signed her name deliberately in the appropriate places, praying the ink would not blot. Her tutor, the curé of Pontrouge, had ever bemoaned her slow penmanship.
    How she wished her mother and father were present. She had never felt more alone, even in the worst moments of toting chamber pots in Westminster.
    Sweat beaded between her breasts as she stepped back from the table, offering the quill to the Earl. She willed the trembling in her hand to stop, thankful for the potpourri sachet. He smiled as he accepted it and put his name to the agreement.
    Gallien de Montbryce stepped forward, staring at her belly. “Are you with child?”
    Peri gripped the table, afraid she might swoon.
    Ballustre reached for the hilt of his sword.
    The Earl glared at his son. “That was unworthy of you. You will apologise to your betrothed.”
    Gallien scowled. “She isn’t yet my betrothed. It’s a simple question. Oui or non ?”
    Drowning in heat, Peri searched her memory. She had not discussed such matters with her mother and sister. Now a man, a stranger, had broached the forbidden topic.
    How had Fermentine known she was enceinte ? It had something to do with menses. They stopped. Fermentine and her husband had been hastily married shortly thereafter. Peri’s courses had continued normally. “ Non ,” she whispered.
    Gallien smirked, then dipped the pen in the inkwell and signed the document without reading a word.
    He too has accepted this as inevitable .
    A twinge of pity for him tugged at her. But he was cold and arrogant. He did not bestow another glance on her. Were it not for the facial resemblance between the two Normans she would have deemed them unrelated. It was evident her future husband hated her, seethed that he had been bound to an Angevin.
    Cold fear crept up her spine that his hatred might turn to cruelty.
    The emissary accepted his copy of the agreement and bowed his farewell to the Earl and his son, ignoring her completely. The bargain had been completed.
    She took a deep breath. Her betrothed was one of the most handsome knights she had ever seen, despite the scowl on his face. His silver hair added to his beauty. Doubtless many Norman noblewomen had pursued him. He could have had anyone of his choosing, but had been forced to accept her.
    Resentment was the one thing they had in common, but she resolved not to let that soften her heart towards him.
    ~~~
    Gallien recognised the censure in his father’s gaze. It did nothing to calm his raging heart. Decorum dictated he escort his betrothed to the banquet prepared in their honor. He did not want to touch her, though a strange urge had come over him to warm her cold hand when they had first touched. He must guard against that. The brazen chit had dared hesitate before signing the contract, as if she had any more choice than he in the matter.
    Here was another Felicité, no doubt. How had she learned green was his favourite color? He would have to be careful. He struggled for something to say that would allay his father’s growing