|
|
|
|
|
|
The Dowager Queen had been sixteen years in restrictive custody for raising revolution against her husband, King Henry, but she had not lost contact with any event of note that took place in England or France. The death of Alinor's grandfather, Lord Rannulf, which left an unmarried sixteen-year-old girl as heiress, had certainly not escaped her notice. One of the earliest writs that went out as she gathered the threads of government into her capable hands had gone to Alinor. And now, on her way from Winchester to London, the Queen was riding some fifty miles out of her way to settle Alinor's affairs. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was not a mark of royal affection for which Alinor was grateful, but she was resigned. The important thing was to keep her estates intact, and defiance of a royal writ amounted to treason, for which crime her estates, and those of the vassals who supported her, would be forfeit. If only Alinor had been able to marry while the old king and his sons had been locked in their death struggle. There had been plenty of offersfrom penniless younger sons, with nothing but smooth tongues and a desire to eat Alinor's substance, to ancient magnates, with a brood of starveling young ones to divide Alinor's land among. Unfortunately not one of the smooth-tongued and beautiful youngsters was capable of holding her vassals together in Alinor's judgment and the older men were not capable of holding her. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Alinor had judged each offer on its merits, and she knew she had judged fairly because her opinion had been freely confirmed by Sir Andre and Sir John d'Alberin, who held the honor of Mersea for her. Now, of course, it was too late. She would be a royal ward, and the Queen or King would choose a husband for her. Alinor's soft lips firmed and her expressive eyes sparkled. Unless they chose wisely, she would be a widow almost before she was a wife. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The mare was quieter now. Alinor's lips curved a |
|
|
|
|
|