By Anne O'Brien
Eleanor, Duchess of Aquitaine, is a made up our minds lady who plots and schemes an fantastic direction among both strong males in 12th century Europe, a girl who can manoeuvre and manage to defend her personal lands as successfully as any power-grasping lord. Eleanor is single-minded in her fight to maintain her inheritance intact, prime her to reject one husband and take one other who will fulfil her wishes. Eleanor intends to reign as Queen and is ready to deliver scandal down upon herself in pursuit of her final prize. Hers is a narrative of strength, political intrigue, ardour and love.
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Extra info for Devil's Consort: England's Most Ruthless Queen
I doubted there has been a malicious bone in his physique. yet i might supply him no reason for grievance. I stiffened my shoulders, set my brain opposed to aching muscle groups and chafed dermis and driven my horse—a clumsy, raw-boned creature however the most sensible available within the circumstances—on back right into a gallop. ‘Did you pay attention what they referred to as him? ’ Aelith whispered over a shared cup of wine on the subsequent short halt. ‘At the dinner party? ’ ‘Yes. ’ ‘Colhon! silly as a testicle! ’ ‘No have to repeat it! ’ What girl would need to be wed to a determine of ridicule? Taillebourg. finally. within the substantial citadel belonging to at least one of my extra dependable vassals, i used to be proven into the non-public quarters of Geoffrey de Rancon the place convenience closed round me. Too exhausted to do greater than supply passing thank you for the hospitality, I took ownership. a tub used to be commandeered, sizzling water ordered. My physique may discomfort unmercifully from crown of head to ft yet i might cross fresh to my marriage evening. I checked out the lord of Rancon’s mattress, appreciating the cast wood body and silk hangings whole with down bed and nice linen sheets. the total would possibly not fit the splendour of mine however it might suffice. higher than the specter of a dank and intensely public ditch. Anticipation was once a delightful murmur in my blood because the servants arrived with a bathtub and buckets of water. i used to be neither unwilling nor frightened. I sensed that Louis, an ignorant child-monk, may have extra qualms than I. I laughed softly, possibly unfairly. Louis shouldn't have the great Abbot to provide suggestion in this social gathering. The water steamed, herbs stuffed the room with fragrant body spray, my limbs cried out for soothing. Aelith fussed to unlace me. I get rid of my costume, my undergown, my full-length shift. A knock sounded at the door. I raised my hand to the chambermaid to forbid access, yet too past due. The door opened and Louis himself, nonetheless in tunic, boots and hose and mail, stepped in. He halted at the threshold, pushing again his coif, thrusting a hand nervously via his raveled hair, which clung wetly to his neck. ‘Forgive me. ’ With a shy smile and what may well simply be defined as an enthralling little bow, mailed gloves nonetheless clutched in his hand as though he had come instantly from the stabling—as probably he had—he took in the environment. ‘I got here to invite after your wellbeing and fitness, my woman. I see that every little thing has been supplied for …’ His phrases dried. His jaw dropped. His eyes excited about my legs, the place they turned fastened, until eventually they slid nervously away to my face. ‘My lord? ’ ‘Madam! ’ I waited. ‘That … that garment …’ It have been made for me, of chamois leather-based. delicate, figure-hugging, hard-wearing and primarily protecting, it enclosed my physique, overlaying each one leg as with a tender dermis of its personal. splendidly supple, splendidly releasing, it enabled me to maneuver and stretch with nice freedom. And to experience with out ache. As accommodating as a man’s chausses on which it was once essentially modelled. ‘Excellent, is it no longer? ’ It happy me to tease him. His evaluations have been as rigid as stones set in gold.