The Forbidden Queen полностью

But still he did not turn, so I stepped round so that I could witness his profile.

‘You’re scowling,’ I said, hearing the tremble in my voice.

‘I should be whipped for this. I should have known.’ His expression was savage, his tone no less so. ‘What was I thinking, to put my own physical gratification before your safety? Before your reputation?’

‘I am in no danger.’

‘Only from the filth that will be flung at you by the court scandalmongers.’

‘They will fling it at both of us.’

‘You don’t deserve it.’ Now he looked at me, eyes wide, jaw hard clenched. ‘Forgive me, Katherine. Forgive me, forgive me for my wretched selfishness. If I had loved you less, it would never have come to this. If I had loved you more, I would never have touched you.’

I had no difficulty in replying. ‘But if you had never touched me, I would have died from longing.’ I tried to smile as I leaned to kiss his cheek, but he stepped back, away, hands raised against me.

‘How much I have hurt you.’

‘But do you not want this child?’ I asked. ‘A child born out of our love?’

He inhaled sharply, so that now the gems deep set in his chain gleamed balefully in the stormy light.

‘Can you ask me that? How would I not desire a child of your blood and mine? But this is no perfect world where we can choose. I have cast you into a maelstrom.’ His gaze pierced mine, precise as a dagger. ‘And do you know the worst thing?’ he demanded. ‘I don’t know how to put it right for you.’

But I did. There it was, newborn in my mind, as clear and tempting as a sparkling pool for a thirsty traveller, sweeping away all my irresolution.

‘I do,’ I said. ‘I know.’ I was so certain, I who had never been certain in her life. ‘I know how to put it right for both of us.’

‘Nothing I can do will.’

I did not hesitate. ‘Wed me, Owen.’

If the air had been charged before, now it screamed with tension.

‘Wed me, Owen.’ I repeated, my words crossing the divide.

‘Wed you?’

‘Is marriage so distasteful to you?’ His thoughts were awry so I drove on, even if it would increase the pain of his refusal if he could not tolerate it. ‘Or is it marriage to me that you balk at?’

And as he flung wide his arms, I saw the blood, along the knuckles of his right hand, beginning to drip to the floor, the skin scraped from flesh along the stonework. Showing me, if I was not already aware, just how close to the edge of control he was.

‘Your hand,’ I said in distress, reaching out to him.

‘To Hell with my hand!’ He took another step back from me. ‘You consider that marriage to me would solve all your problems? To shackle a Valois princess to a penniless servant will make a bad situation even more sordid.’

‘Sordid? I won’t accept that. I do not consider my situation—as you describe it—to be sordid. Do I not love you? Your position in my household can be redeemed instantly.’

‘But my race cannot. God’s Blood! Do you know what it is like for a man to be branded Welsh?’

‘No.’ How would I? I was ignorant of all Welshmen, apart from Owen.

‘Of course you don’t. It is a monstrosity of injustice, of bloody vengeance that has wilfully brought about the destruction of Welsh pride, of all our heritage and tradition. Of our rights before the law.’

It still meant little to me. Why would this deter him from marriage? I could not understand the rage that lit his face with such rampant power. In spite of everything, all I could think was that he was magnificent in his anger.

‘I have nothing to offer you, Katherine,’ he continued. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Why would you need to offer me anything? I don’t need material things. I have my own properties—’

‘Katherine!’ He silenced me, one hand raised, his voice dropping to make a harsh, even statement. ‘That’s what makes it so much worse. You have a queen’s dower, while I…’ He scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving a smear of blood along his jaw. ‘I have too much pride to take you with nothing to give in return.’

My heart wept for this proud man, but I summoned all my courage to reply as evenly as I could. ‘Why is pride so important? Is it stronger than love?’ I asked. ‘I want to be with you. If we were wed, then there would be no impediment. Will you allow pride to stand in our way?’ And I was astounded when my question rekindled the wrath.

‘By God, I will. I am a servant under your command, and yet I have the blood of Llewellyn the Great in my veins. I lay claim to the same blood as the mighty Owain Glyn Dwr. Yes, I am a proud man.’

‘Is that good? The blood of these men?’ I had never heard of Llewellyn or of Owain Glyn Dwr. I could barely pronounce them.

‘You don’t even know!’ His answering laugh was savage but he did not mock me. ‘They are the best, the finest names. Princes of our people, leading the Welsh to glory in battle, until defeat at the hands of the damned English.’

His impassioned words puzzled me. ‘If you are so well born, connected to this Llewellyn the Great, why do you serve me?’