Read Thy Name Is Love (The Yorkist Saga) for Free Online Page B

at home here, she thought sadly.

But then, Valentine was a powerful lord in the north, and needed
     to show everyone in the area just what his status was…including
     marrying the Queen's niece.

"You are now the mistress of the manor, Lady Starbury," he said
     with a gallant bow, reading her expression correctly, one of awe
     mingled with dismay. "These are the most formal reception rooms.
     Let me show you to your more private chambers, where you may take
     your ease."

She clutched his arm despite herself, once again being swept away
     by that lost, lonely feeling as they ascended the staircase.

He opened the door to her new chambers, and she peeked in with
     dread. Then, despite herself, she began to smile in delight.

Prettier than anything she'd ever had whilst in Elizabeth
     Woodville's charge, it was obvious he'd given orders to decorate
     it the way a woman would like it. The bed hangings and curtains
     dripped with lace in white and soft pinks, roses, and purples. The
     cushions had lacy borders, the skirting round the dressing table
     was trimmed in pink lace, and a screen in the corner affording
     privacy for her ablutions was also decorated to match.

The sweet scent of violets floated up from the fresh rushes on the
     floor. It was very feminine, and while not exactly the colors she
     would have chosen, they were pretty enough, and she was touched by
     his thoughtfulness.

In the past, her quarters had never been luxurious by royal
     standards. Neither had her clothing, but it mattered not. She'd
     never cared for the dubious trappings of wealth. She looked around
     the room in awe, and now down at the gorgeous creamy confection of
     a wedding gown Anne had loaned her. The gown of Anne's own mother,
     no less…

But now that Denys was married to the closest advisor of the
     second wealthiest nobleman in the realm, she knew she would be
     expected to care, to put on a show. The room was lovely, she had
     to grant him that. She vowed to try to enjoy it.

Yet impressed as she was by the beautifully appointed chamber, she
     had a declaration to make before he began throwing out conjugal
     orders.

So she cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and did not even
     stop to thank him for the evident trouble he had taken over her
     set of rooms.

"I realize we are now husband and wife, Valentine, but that
     changes naught about my feelings for you. By the laws that bind me
     to you, you have a right to my bed. But I must tell you now, you
     have no right to my heart."

She was sure he would not have been more surprised if she had
     slapped him. His eyes threw out blue sparks as he gazed back at
     her, as though desperate to believe that he had misheard, but sure
     he had not.

She half expected him to swagger up to her with his usual
     confident gait, tear her bodice with forceful potency, throw her
     on the bed and demand his conjugal rights, as she squirmed under
     his might, writhing with indignation.

But he neither made a move toward her, nor did he reveal any hint
     of desire, nor of his innermost thoughts.

When he finally spoke, it was in a light, banter tone, which was
     at odds with the look on his face. "Were you hoping for a row so
     early in our marriage? Well, I hate to disappoint you, dear, but
     I'm all in. Furthermore, I pay no heed to ancient pagan rituals. I
     have no intention of violating the honor you so valiantly guard. I
     have never forced myself upon a woman, nor shall I ever do so.

"You are free to continue the search for your parentage, join me
     on my official progresses, or stay here and grow roses and lilies.
     ‘Tis up to you. So, if all is to your satisfaction, dear lady, I
     shall retire to my own chambers."

He was already walking away, so quickly that she didn't realize he
     was taking his leave until he was halfway to the door.

"Valentine!" She shouted his name without thinking, more out of
     surprise than anything else.

He turned, his eyes twinkling in the