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a lady combed out her pale silver hair, fingering her silky tresses as though she had never seen them before. Beside her on the stool sat another girl, almost as fair, almost as delicate; a little taller, with watchful dark eyes. She was patting her sister's arm reassuringly when Matilda was shown in, and Matilda saw her eyes at once seek her own in the mirror, hostile and suspicious. This then was Amicia, Isabella's sister, the girl who, she now knew for sure, was to marry Richard de Clare.

Refusing to meet the glance in the mirror, Matilda went to put her arm around Isabella's thin shoulders and dropped a kiss on the fair head.

Isabella looked up and smiled weakly. "I'm glad you've come. "

"I promised, didn't I?" Matilda took the comb from the maid and gently continued combing, drawing the fair hair back from the girl's hot face.

"And you'll attend me tomorrow, in the abbey?"

"Of course. " Matilda tried to smile at Amicia. "Do you attend your sister too?" she asked quietly.

At once the eyelids were lowered. Amicia nodded meekly. "I do my duty, madam, as my mother demands of me. "

"Where is Lady Gloucester?" Matilda couldn't help wondering why the woman wasn't with her daughter at a time like this.

Amicia shrugged. "We see little of our lady mother, madam. Since our father died, she prefers the company of men and, of course, of the prince. " Her voice was heavy suddenly with innuendo. In the mirror Matilda saw the younger sister blanch. The girl's hands, clasped in her lap, were white at the knuckles, and she felt a rush of sympathetic anger. It was insufferable that this small delicate girl should be linked with someone as insensitive and boorish as Prince John.

"I hope, Lady Matilda, " Amicia went on, not taking her eyes from Matilda's face in the mirror, "that you will do me the honor of attending me at my wedding. I know Sir Richard would be pleased. You are, I believe, such an old friend. "

Matilda could feel a flush of anger mounting in her cheeks, and she instantly wanted to give hurt for hurt. "I shall be pleased to, my dear. It will after all be rather an anticlimax for you—after your sister has wed a prince. " She was sorry instantly that she had said it. Isabella gave a little gasp, looking up at her sister pleadingly, while Amicia, white with fury, rose to her feet and swung for the first time to look Matilda in the face.

"Prince John is a brute, madam, and a cruel man with women, as everyone knows. " She looked coldly at her trembling sister. "I wish Isabella joy of him. I shall have a kind and gentle husband. But then"—she almost spat the words— "you would know all about the qualities of Sir Richard, madam. " After gathering her rich green skirts about her, she swept out through the curtained doorway, leaving the other two to gaze at each other in horror. Isabella's eyes were filled with tears. "I don't know what's happened to Amicia. She used to love me. "

"She's jealous of you, child. " Matilda took the elder sister's place on the stool and put her arm around Isabella. "Can't you see? Her younger sister is marrying a royal prince. It is more than she can bear. "

"And she's jealous of you because you're so beautiful and the world says Sir Richard loved you once. "

Once.

Matilda's arm fell away from the girl's shoulders. Yes, he had loved her once. She had thought he loved her still. It had been that knowledge which had bolstered her during the long lonely nights when she had had to submit to William's rough attentions, and which had somehow comforted her against all his abuses when he was drunk. She shivered suddenly. She had not realized that anyone else had ever guessed their love. But these two people knew. Isabella, who would be the wife of the prince, and Amicia, who was to marry Richard. And if they knew her secret, how was it possible that the rest of the world did not know it too?

Above the camp the stars were enormous in the bronze- black arch of the sky. She stopped for a moment on her way back to the de Braose tents to gaze up at it, feeling the immensity of it above her, quietly soothing her. A slight breath of hot air, almost a breeze, stirred the skirt of her gown for a moment, then the night was still again.

"Do you find it hard to sleep, Lady Matilda?" She started at the deep voice at her elbow, and then, recognizing with a guilty shock the figure of Prince John in the shadows, she curtseyed low.

"I was returning to our tents, sir, after visiting your bride. "

John frowned. She could see his face quite clearly in the luminous starlight, strong and clean-cut, with the arched brows and heavy high-bridged nose of the Plantagenets. His shoulders had broadened with manhood and the hot Normandy sun had tanned his face to a uniform darkness. He smiled at her, showing white, even teeth. "How is my little bride? Still shaking at the thought of the ogre she must marry?"

Matilda clenched her fists at his mocking tone. "She is very young, Your Highness, and very shy. You must give her time. "

"She has had time. Ten years to get used to the idea. "

"She has also had ten years to brood over the cruelty you showed her at Gloucester. "

John threw back his head and laughed. "I had no idea I had made any impression on her at all at Gloucester. So much the better. I see you are sorry for her, Lady Matilda. I think you should spare me some sympathy. Imagine being married to that little milksop. Can you see her in bed? Can you see her the mother of strapping sons?" John laughed bitterly. "I'll wager the good Sir William had

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