The King's Mistress by Terri Brisbin Page A

kissed the inside of her wrist, watching her eyes to see her reaction. Marguerite startled, but not enough that anyone but he could see it. As she moved to stand at his side, he entwined his fingers with hers and held on to her hand. He turned to the others.
    â€œI thank you for your efforts in making this meal and this occasion a special one. Now, I ask you to make welcome my…wife, the Lady Marguerite of Alencon.” His voice broke slightly as he referred to her as wife for the first time before his people. Some of his servants had been with his family since before his birth and he felt a nervousness not known before as he tried to impress them.
    Marguerite’s gaze met his and he saw the puzzlement there. Then he realized he had spoken in English and she probably had not understood a word of it except her name.
    â€œMy lady, I thanked them for making your first meal in our hall a special one. They have worked hard to make your welcome a good one,” he said in Norman. Continuing once more in English for his people, he said, “My lady does not speak our language, at least not yet, and so I ask you for your assistance in making her welcome.”
    His throat tightened as the clapping began in the back of the hall and spread forward, getting louder as it did so. Some called out her name and some called out “Huzzah.” He smiled as he looked at her.
    Marguerite lowered her head in an acknowledgment of their welcome and then returned his smile. Leading her to their seats, he was surprised again when she stopped near his mother and curtsied to her, as well. This sign of respect was not missed and the crowd cheered again. Marguerite hesitated only a moment when she caught sight of Gavin, and then she continued toward the center chairs.
    Finally, they were seated and, with his wave, the servants first approached with a bowl of water for washing their hands. Then they surrounded the table to place platters of fish and fowl and beef and mutton before them. Warm loaves of white flour bread and tubs of freshly churned butter were delivered to the table, as well. Cabbage and peas, stewed with mustard seed and pepper, and boiled turnips completed this course. Orrick nodded and everyone began to serve themselves, each two sharing a trencher between them. Because of the occasion, Orrick had ordered that the silver platters he owned be used as well as the silver spoons for those at his table.
    The meal commenced and he spent his time offering Marguerite the choicest of the foods placed before them. She smiled and accepted them with a grace he had not seen before. Conversations swirled around them and he translated for her. Soon, the main dishes were removed and the cook delivered some treats that he had prepared especially for this meal. A warm tart of apples and pears filled the air with the smell of cloves and cinnamon as it was brought to table. It was his favorite and he told Marguerite of it.
    This was proceeding far better than he thought it would and Orrick found himself relaxing as he finished his wine. His wife was a changeable woman. Mayhap she had accepted her fate? Could this work out between them?
    With those thoughts, others broke through. He had been aware of her throughout the meal. He noticed the smell of the soap she’d washed with and the softness of her skin when she placed her hand in his. Her glorious hair, wrapped into two long braids, still made his hands itch to touch it. When she leaned closer to share a quiet comment with him, he was sorely tempted to turn his face and take her lips in a kiss.
    But one glance at his mother’s worried expression and he remembered what he wanted to forget—she might be breeding and he must know before he bedded her. Otherwise, as his mother’s words had warned, he would raise the king’s bastard as his heir and never know. Another whiff of her enticing scent and the sound of her husky whisper near his ear andOrrick was not certain