A Grave Inheritance

Did this man have no shame? I was a law-abiding subject of the crown, yet in two breaths he had threatened to either sell me into servitude or turn me into his personal whore. My nostrils flared as I stared at his insolent face, my hand itching to deliver a smart slap just before I stormed from the room.

 

Fortunately, Cate was not so easily offended nor deterred. “A bold move, your majesty,” she said, her hand still resting on his arm, “and sure to earn the animosity of the Fitzalans, as well as the princess. You’ve already a dispute with your eldest son. Why do something that would also estrange your daughter?”

 

He dropped his hand from my face and sighed. “I do all zis for my daughter,” he said. “Ven Henry petitioned to break zee betrothal, I was outraged by zee insult. How dare he refuse my daughter for zees girl?” He pointed at me for emphasis, his finger an inch from my nose. “But zen I sink it is not for zee best to force a loveless match. It happened to my parents and zey hated each other. I vas ready to send Lord Fitzalan my consent ven my daughter comes to me crying, begging me to reconsider.”

 

“Amelia insisted on keeping the betrothal?” Cate asked, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

 

The king nodded. “For her I have refused. And until she says otherwise, I shall demand zat Lord Fitzalan honor zee agreement.”

 

There was a knock on the door and one of the guards entered.

 

“Vat is it?” the king demanded.

 

“Sir Witmer, your majesty,” the man said. “He brings urgent news from lower London.”

 

The king reached down and took hold of Cate’s hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he placed a long kiss on the back of her satin glove while keeping his eyes locked on hers. “You must leave me now, my lady,” he said. “Come back another time and we shall speak of more pleasant sings.”

 

Smiling coyly, Cate withdrew her hand and curtseyed. “As you wish, your majesty.”

 

I curtseyed as well, and then followed her from the room.

 

Sir Witmer brushed shoulders with us in his haste to speak with the king.

 

Ready to be one my way, I tried to take another step when Cate stopped me, holding a finger up to her mouth. The other guard watched us, but said nothing.

 

“Vat news have you,” the king asked, his voice drifting out through the partially open door.

 

“Not good, your majesty, not good at all. A score more deaths have been reported today from the smallpox alone, though the real death toll, I am sure, is two or three times higher than this figure. If the numbers keep rising, we could have a full epidemic on our hands by Christmas...”

 

The other guard stepped from the room and pulled the door closed, cutting off the rest of the conversation.

 

Cate took my arm, her expression grim. “This way, Selah,” she said. “We’ve done all we can for tonight.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

Blood of My Blood

 

I sat at the dressing table the next morning, studying my reflection in the large oval mirror. Beth had already been in to help me dress and to fix my hair in a new style that she had seen on a fashionable lady yesterday afternoon while out running errands with the other maids. Most of my dark locks were pinned up, except for the few thick curls she had left to trail down my back. I moved my head from side-to-side, delighted with the results and no longer concerned by her ineptitude with an iron. This one skill, as it turned out, was unnecessary since Cate had already sent her laundress to fetch my gowns, leaving me to pick another from what Henry had ordered. This morning I had chosen a brocaded pale blue silk, equally tight in the bosom as the first. The color seemed made for my complexion, and I was very excited for Henry to see how well he had chosen.

 

Dabbing my nose with powder, I felt almost giddy from the prospect of seeing him. Other than relaying my gratitude for the new wardrobe, I had a list of things to share, so many in fact that I hardly knew where to start once he arrived. Last night, instead of visiting as planned, he sent a note begging my forgiveness when it became evident that the princess and her mother, Queen Caroline, had no intention of losing his company until well after midnight. With his regrets, he described the torment caused by my absence, and his ultimate decision to forgo his own happiness so that I may get a good night’s sleep.

 

Now fully rested, I was anxious to share the details of my meeting with the king, most importantly that the betrothal with Amelia remained in place at her request. The king’s bluster to send me into service or make me his personal whore had to be withheld, as it would only serve to rile Henry’s anger. Besides, these threats had been rendered harmless by Cate’s intervention, an intervention that involved a welcomed hand on his arm and a promise to return another time to speak of more pleasant things.

 

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