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obligation of the grandmother who disowned her son when he married Rhiann’s mother.
    She hesitated at the top of the stairs, seeing the hall was already crowded with company, most of them male.  They were an older and obviously more substantial group than the young men who provided her escort to London.  Oh God, did that mean the king meant to marry her to one of them?  Surely not.  Most of the men assembled below were closer to the king’s age than her own.  She wanted to turn around and flee back to the relative safety of her chambers but knew she would not be given the opportunity by the guard at her side.  He was already regarding her questioningly at her hesitation.  Sighing inwardly, she lifted the skirt of her gown and slowly began descending the stairs.
     
    Nathan watched Lady Rhiann’s descent from his place at the opposite end of the room, aware his heart was suddenly thudding loudly in his chest.  His position near the rear of the hall prevented him from seeing her clearly earlier. Now he understood William’s pronouncement of the lady being his gift to him and what a magnificent gift indeed!  She was perfection.  Never in his life had he beheld a more beautiful woman. Certainly he never expected to be able to claim such a woman for his own.  She was only of average height but that was the only characteristic she could claim as average.  Her hair was a deep gold the color of polished coins.  Her face beautifully formed, her skin was flawless, her mouth full, and her eyes matched the deep emerald of her gown.  She was slender but the top of her gown clung close across the tantalizing curves of her breasts, proclaiming while she might be young, she possessed a woman’s body.
    He recalled her earlier conversation with the king.  Her mother had given her father several sons and two daughters, so while Lady Rhiann appeared on the slender side, he did not doubt the core of strength within her.  Did she not demonstrate that strength when she refused to cower before the king earlier? He admired her spirit, even though in this case she should count herself fortunate for William’s restraint. He knew many, and none of them kings, who would have backhanded the maid to the stone floor for her defiance. Still Nathan was impressed when she met William’s gaze boldly, her bearing regal, her answers to his questions direct.  Aye, she was magnificent and worth perhaps as much as the dowry the king would award him when he wed her. 
    She would be his wife.  He smiled at the thought, in a hurry now to get the deed over and done with.  He was reluctant to wait even the single night the king decreed before they were wed. He was certain there was no finer woman in all of Saxony.  Her beauty was already attracting the attention of every man in the room. He understood now the king’s haste to see the lady’s future settled else fights broke out amongst his knights over who would be given the right to claim her.  Too late, he thought with a great deal of satisfaction.  She was his. He would kill any man who attempted to take her from him.
    “She’s a beauty,” Archibald commented from his place at Nathan’s shoulder.  “No doubt there will be much anticipation and speculation over who the king means to award her to.”
    “No doubt.” Nathan readily agreed. He had yet to confide his good fortune to his close friend. He would let the king make the announcement in his own time, not wishing to risk offending his lord by claiming a prize not yet publically given, though in Nathan’s eyes the prize was already awarded. The maid was his.  No other man would ever touch her. 
    He watched as the king summoned her to his side, noticed Rhiann’s graceful curtsey before him and the ease with which she accepted William’s introduction of his wife. Nathan was so nervous when he was first presented to Matilda at an age when he was not much older than the lady herself, he almost knocked her over when he bowed