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he would not blame her for what she had no power to change or control. |
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She and Simon got away after that, but Rhiannon's hand was tight on his wrist until they were clear of the hall. Outside, Simon put his arm around her as they waited for their horses, and she did not pull away. |
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"I am not cut out for this work," she sighed. "Gilliane was right. The king is like a wild cat. It may come to call and even let itself be gentled, but one cannot look away or trust it. With such a man, there must be strong bonds to hold him, for his own spirit is not master of itself." |
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"Your father said it was because he was king too young," Simon responded, but for the moment he was blessing Henry, whose erratic character had made Rhiannon willing to rest in his embrace. |
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"I want to go home," Rhiannon said pathetically. |
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"Then you shall, eneit," Simon agreed instantly. "I will write to my father tonight, and we will go tomorrow. |
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"No," she sighed. "It will not do. It would turn everything I said into a lie. We must stay until the Bishop of Winchester comes, at least. Simon, you should not yield so readily to anything I ask." |
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Whether she would have replied at all and what she would have said remained forever lost. The horses arrived at that moment, and Rhiannon pulled away from Simon and moved forward at once to mount. Simon was furious, but to punish the grooms would have offended Rhiannon. It was better to let the opportunity go than to destroy by ill temper the good that had been accomplished already. |
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There was no need for Rhiannon to fear another summons from the king, for a powerful diversion was provided to turn Henry's mind from light entertainment. The Bishop of Salisbury, more knowing than Henry had hoped, did not stay to argue with Peter des Roches. Warned that Henry had left Oxford, he |
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