“Green suits you too, Marie. Indeed, everything does. Green is most pleasant in these wretched, chilly months when there is little riding and hunting. Only business, worry and lectures from one’s advisors or family.”
He smiled and released her hands and Mary relaxed. How wonderful she felt, how important to be near him. Surely since she was Lord Boullaine’s daughter and under the queen’s protection, he would not expect her to lose her reputation. He was much older, and kings never had liaisons with unmarried ladies that she had heard of. She smiled warmly at him.
“Now I remember,” he said quietly, “why I think of you as golden Marie no matter what dress you wear.” He took a quick step toward her and then turned. “Will you have some wine with your friend Francois, Marie?”
Awed by his informal manner, she took the stemmed goblet willingly and looked up, unafraid, into his dark eyes. Then the familiar awkwardness leaned on her heart again. He did not speak but studied her carefully, and the tiny flames in his eyes warned her of potential disaster.
She turned sideways from his hot stare and surveyed the room. Its walls were dark wood in layered paneling and edged with gilt. A fire crackled merrily behind a carved screen. There were books, a huge compass, maps, stuffed brocaded armchairs and a narrow lounge bed along one wall. There was only one window, but the thin winter sun slanted across the carpet and warmed the chamber.
“Come, Marie.” She looked back at him startled. “Come see the view from one of my favorite windows. I can see far down the valley from here, and the Loire is like the green ribbon in your hair.”
He leaned against the rich paneling and turned his head to gaze far out across the recessed window ledge. She joined him, setting her half-finished wine glass on the table, realizing too late that it was something she could have held between them as they stood so close.
He pulled her against his side in a brotherly way and put one arm lightly around her shoulders. He pointed to the tiny village on the opposite cliff face. “I shall tell you a secret, ma cherie. One night last summer, Bonnivet and I and a few others disguised ourselves and rode through the streets throwing eggs at windows and whatever people we saw.” He laughed, and she could feel his ribs and shoulders move as he did. “A tiny hamlet, but with as fresh a supply of wine and women as any!” He squeezed her shoulder as he chuckled, then loosed her again merely resting his now-heavy arm on her. “Now what the devil was the name of that little place? We shall have to do that again sometime, if we live through this blasted, boring winter.”
“I watched your Master da Vinci draw that view once from the gardens, Your Grace.”
“Did you, sweet? Signor Leonardo is ill and maybe shall not last the winter either. A genius. He and I appreciate each other.”
“It is said you have often spent hours together talking of—well, of everything, Sire.” She felt a stabbing sorrow for the old man’s illness.
“It is said, sweet? Then it is one of the only true rumors about the king to fly around the halls of the palace lately. Shall we give them all something new to speak of to pass the dreary months until spring, golden Marie?”
He turned her to him and his eyes went to her lips. Foolishly she blurted out, “The queen mother and your sister Madam du Alencon visited the queen today.”
His eyes did not waver, and he leaned into her, pressing her between him and the wall. “Fine. Then they will be busy and not bother their Francois all the rest of this so lovely afternoon.”
He bent his head and took her lips gently for a lingering moment and then with hot intensity. She kept her eyes tight shut and tried desperately to stem the trembling in her knees. She could not think of anything but the feel of his velvet chest and the hard muscles of his thighs and his probing tongue. But she must think, she must!
His hands dropped to her narrow waist and one came slowly, treacherously up to her shoulder, sliding, tugging at the oval bodice. He shifted his weight and his lips caressed her neck and kissed her throat. His thick dark hair tickled her chin. He raised his head.
“From the first moment I saw you, cherie, I knew we were meant to be together. You are so lovely, your eyes, your lips, your hair. My Venus, your king would be most blessed should you allow him to gaze on you, like Venus, undraped.”