Page 83 of The Raven and the Rose
He took her hand between both of his and pressed it reassuringly. “Come through to the inner room, where we can be less formal, Lady Roseanna. It grieves me to see your evident distress.”
Obediently she allowed him to take her into a small drawing room with comfortable sofas and a cozy fire. He poured wine into two small crystal glasses and handed her one. As her fingers brushed his, she heard his sharp intake of breath. She sipped her wine in silence; the sexual tension between them almost crackled in the air.
He said low, “Please trust me. Whatever you tell me will be in strictest confidence, and I pledge to do anything that is within my power.”
She smiled tremulously, and his heart turned over. “My lord—”
“My friends call me Line,” he invited.
“I’m being blackmailed.”
His eyes widened, but he held his silence, hoping she would continue.
“By a man of high rank,” she finished.
“So high, you are frightened to give me his name?” asked Line, incredulously.
Roseanna nodded. “Two months before my husband was killed, I had a son. He is now Baron Ravenspur— except … except the Duke of Clarence threatens to become his guardian and take his lands away unless—unless I give him access to my bed.” She sat facing him; the firelight turned her jewels to flame.
He whistled at the royal name. “He’s married to Warwick’s daughter! The kingmaker will take a dim view when it becomes known to him.”
“My lord—”
“Line,” he insisted.
“Line, tell me if it is within his power to do this to my son.”
Line nodded slowly. “He could either take your son’s wealth in wardship until he comes of age, or he could issue a warrant of attainder and have everything revert to the Crown—but only if he becomes King, Lady Roseanna.”
She drooped visibly at this news, so he hastened to explain, “It is by no means a certainty that George will be crowned. I tell you this in strictest confidence. The nobility does not want him. Most of the Lancastrian lords want old King Henry restored.”
“But he’s mad! He resides in the Tower of London.”
“Mad, yes. Yet still they prefer him to the Duke of Clarence.”
“You have given me hope, at least. When will this be decided?”
“Soon. We all want this matter settled. Continual war drains the lifeblood of a realm.”
“Will you add your voice to those who oppose the crowning of the Duke of Clarence?” she begged.
“Mine will be the loudest,” he assured her.
She rose to bid him good-bye, and suddenly he did not want her to leave. “You cannot go without taking dinner with me, Lady Roseanna.”
She hesitated. She knew the value of leaving a man when he desired more of your company. “I’m sorry, I must go. It is starting to snow, and I don’t want to get caught in a storm.”
He wanted to ask her to stay the night, but this would place him in the same light as the seducer she was running from. “May I visit you?” he asked eagerly.
“Please do. It is very kind of you to want to check on my welfare, my lord.”
“Line,” he begged.
A week passed, a week in which Roseanna scanned the horizon and prayed to God that the Duke of Clarence had enough trouble on his hands that he had no time to spare her a thought. It was agony for her to live without Roger, and she missed her baby so much, she wanted to scream.
She looked out from her bedchamber window; her heart caught in her throat as she saw riders approach. When she recognized the Earl of Lincoln’s silvery hair, she went weak with relief. With shaking fingers she brushed her hair and went down to greet him. “Line!” she cried joyfully; his heart lifted that she welcomed him so warmly. She wore a simple white linen dress, and with her dark hair loose and falling to the hem of the gown, she looked heartbreakingly young. She was the loveliest, most desirable creature he’d ever known, and he wanted her.
“Roseanna,” he breathed. “Lord God, the days have dragged since I saw you.” He took her hands between his, then raised them to his lips.
