They were stitched all over with white goose feathers and he pushed them roughly aside as he climbed onto the bed. “Are you keeping them pageant britches on forever?”

With his bright hair and dancing eyes he looked less like a swan than an angel. They were of such length they trailed round his ankles as if he was crossing the floor on a cloud. Anyway,” he continued, “what would you be doing with another swan? Surely one’s enough?” As he spoke he raised both arms.Īttached to them was a pair of wings. “Me, I wouldn’t give a farthing for a hundred books, but I’d give a pouch full of groats for a swan with all its feathers on. “Depends what the books were,” he teased. “Think about it! You can get two dozen swans for only three nobles. “What’s that got to do with swans?” he demanded. They’re saying King Richard has bought two books for twenty-eight nobles!” She couldn’t keep the awe out of her voice.

Smiling indulgently she said, “I’ve just been telling you, dunderhead. She was in all the pride of her youth and beauty. “Books, you sot wit! Haven’t you been listening?” Sitting up to tug the hem of the shift over her head she gave him a challenging look then flung her head back to allow her long hair to trail radiantly over the pillows. “Compare the price of swans,” suggested the girl lightly as she sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but her cotton shift. The distant sounds of the market added to the sense that the two of them inhabited a private world. The heat in the small attic under the thatched roof of the guildmaster’s house was stifling.

The Law of Angels by Cassandra Clark