Everlasting by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
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AUGUST 24, 1135
She knew his name was Raven Seabern, that he was here at Westminster
Castle in the service of his king, and she was aware of something else as
well, that the tall, raven-haired Scotsman was staring at her again. But she
was the Lady Abrielle of Harrington, daughter of a late Saxon hero of the
Crusades, stepdaughter of a Norman knight who had also gained high
esteem for his brave years of service in the Holy Land, both to be honored
here tonight, and she would give the man’s attention the lack of regard it
deserved. For here, at the court of King Henry, she was being paid the
admiration of so many men.
She turned away quickly and nodded to her
mother’s soft-spoken praise of the interior grandeur of the great hall of
Westminster Castle. Two massive hearths dominated the room at each end,
with flames roaring higher than a man. Tapestries kept out the chill drafts
and depicted scenes of men in battle or men at the hunt. The stitches were
colored in royal crimson and gold, the deepest blue of a king’s robe, the
startling green of dark forest. Never had Abrielle been in a castle so
magnificent in its display of wealth and power. And she had been invited by
the king himself.
She wanted to savor this happy occasion, as nights such as this had
become sadly rare in her life since her father’s death and her stepfather’s
recent difficulties. It was hard to be at ease, however, much less
concentrate, with the Scotsman’s vivid blue gaze following her with an
intensity to which she was not accustomed. And as if his staring were not
unsettling enough, the man seemed to possess some mysterious power over
her own traitorous gaze, as time and again she found it straying in his
direction, despite her resolution not to reward his attention in any way. Thus
far, she’d caught herself before indulging in anything more than a swift
sideways glance or guarded perusal from beneath the sweep of her long,
dark lashes, but in fact she had no need to look his way simply to confirm
the fact that he was watching her yet again.
It was as if his keen appraisal
were tangible; she could feel it, the heat and weight of it, as surely and
distractingly as if he were trailing a silken feather over her skin.
He was but one of the many men who had shown interest in her in
recent days. Ever since her arrival in London with her mother, Elspeth, and
her stepfather, Vachel de Gerard, Abrielle had received the overwhelming
regard of noblemen looking for a suitable wife.
Though Vachel did not yet
have a title, it was assumed that King Henry this night was ready at last to
confer such honors on a man known for his heroic deeds on the great
Crusade. As a title brought with it lands and income, all knew that
afterward, Abrielle’s dowry would increase substantially. During her short
stay in London, men had come and gone from her stepfather’s apartments
within Westminster Castle, presenting themselves first to her parents, then
to her.
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