Tempted

by Virginia Henley

“Stop her!” cried the chancellor.

  The guard slanted his halberd across the entrance to the privy chamber and the chancellor raised his voice in horror “You cannot see the king!”

  Tina’s golden eyes blazed their challenge. “Can I not?” she asked, then threw back her head and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Within two seconds the door was flung open, and Henry Tudor filled its frame.

  She brandished the paper Howard had signed for her. “The man in the tower is not Ram Douglas! What have you done with my husband?” She ran up to the king and pummeled her fists on his broad chest.

  The guard dropped his halberd, grabbed her arms, and twisted them behind her back. Valentina immediately fainted, albeit gracefully.

  “Unhand the lady!” ordered the king as he bent to pick her up from the floor. He carried her limp body into his privy chamber and held her on his knee. Henry tapped her cheek gently until she opened her eyes. He watched helplessly as her golden eyes turned a smoky amber and filled with tears. “You’ve killed him—I know you’ve killed him!” she wept.

  “Dearest lady, we have killed no one. What is this about, Surrey?” the king demanded.

  “I—I gave Lady Kennedy a pass to visit Douglas in the tower,” he explained. “I saw no harm in it.”

  “No harm in it?” cried Tina. Her sable cloak fell away from her to reveal the pleated bodice of the peach-colored gown, showing off her delectable breasts to perfection. “Gracious Majesty, help me!” she implored.

  “Calm and compose yourself, sweeting.” He spoke as if to a very small and wayward child. “Henry promises to look into the matter thoroughly. I want you to run along now and have a little rest. I shall be most annoyed if anything spoils today’s celebrations.” He looked pointedly at Surrey, but his words were also meant as a warning to Tina.

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” she murmured contritely. “I promise to be good. I know you will look after me.”

  He patted her and dropped a kiss on the top of her head before she climbed down from his lap. The moment she had gone, Henry turned accusing eyes upon Surrey. “You were at the Scottish court long enough. Can you identify this Ram Douglas?”

  “I most assuredly can, Your Majesty.”

  “Then send for the damned plaguey fellow, and let’s put an end to this farce,” directed the livid king.

  Two hours later Lord Howard was back waiting to be admitted to the king’s privy chamber He paced about outside the room while inside Bluff King Hal put Bessie Blount through her paces He was peevish with her. Why the devil was her hair so drab? Lud, she was big as a cow! She couldn’t even keep him hard, and he’d only spent twice! Bessie left sniffing back tears, which weren’t unusual these days.

  Henry came to the door. He wanted to be outside at the archery butts and blamed Surrey for this wretched business, which kept him from his pleasures. “Well?” he thundered.

  “Your Majesty, Lady Kennedy was telling the truth. The man below is most definitely not Ramsay Douglas.”

  “Then who the devil is he?” demanded an impatient Henry.

  “Er—he wouldn’t say, sire. He said his identity was for your ears alone, Your Majesty.”

  “Can nothing in this whole damned realm be handled without my personal attention? Oh, go on—fetch him up. Just be sure he’s well shackled before you bring him into my presence.”

  Henry fidgeted nervously with his beard as he awaited Surrey’s return. What damned plots were being hatched north of the border? Why the hell was Margaret so eager to save the man’s skin? Or had she been forced to write the letter? Henry glared fiercely at the man the guards brought in. His wrists were manacled behind him and chains stretched down to irons around his ankles “Who the devil are you?” Henry demanded.

  The tall, dark young man stepped closer to the king and murmured low. Henry snickered and looked at the handsome young devil with new eyes. Then he threw back his head, and the laughter rumbled up from his barrel-chest. Spine of God, no wonder Margaret was so eager to get the fellow back! “How the devil did you manage to get yourself arrested?” Henry demanded.

  Heath replied, “A man in my delicate position has many jealous enemies.”

  “Just so,” chuckled Henry. “Surrey, get these damned irons off the man. We are celebrating All Hallows today. You shall be a guest and join the festivities. Tonight we have the Gypsies to entertain us.”

  Heath rubbed his wrists. “My humble thanks, Your Majesty, but I dare not dally longer. A lady of our mutual acquaintance, who must remain nameless, is in need of my services. Perhaps at some future date I may be of invaluable service to Your Majesty. My pledge on it,” he vowed, his head bent in servitude.

  When Heath left, Henry gave a couple of orders. “Follow him, and while you’re at it I want Lady Kennedy’s servants watched closely—and that brother of hers I’ve never seen.”

  Later, as Henry and his courtiers made their way to the archery butts, he thought, sly puss Margaret—but what the devil am I to tell the little redhead?

  At the moment the little redhead was packing her clothes frantically. “I’ll wear the white gown tonight and my emeralds, but pack up everything else.”

  “You’ll need a cloak. Autumn has finally arrived in England,” Ada said.

  “Yes, I’ll wear the green velvet.”

  “Good choice. Henry will think you are wearing his Tudor colors.”

  “He can think what the devil he likes, but I’ll be damned if he finds me in this chamber tonight when he steps out of the secret panel. Get the luggage to the stables, and have the men rent rooms at an inn. Give them gold to pay.”

  Their voices hushed immediately as they heard a rapping on the door. Ada opened it a crack to find a page with a message. “His Majesty the King commands Lady Kennedy attend him at the archery butts,” piped the boy.

  “Thank you kindly,” Tina said, giving him a silver sixpence. “You may take me to him.”

  The page was happy to oblige. Usually all he got when he delivered a message was a sweetmeat, sometimes only a cuff on the ear. As she followed him through the palace garden, past the bowling green and into the great park to where the archery butts had been set up, Tina was acknowledged by everyone at court. She received bows and nods from the men and curtsies from the women. She blushed furiously. They thought she was the king’s latest whore, and she experienced real shame

  When they arrived at their destination, a contest was in full spate, complete with fast and furious wagering. Tina stood by like the rest of the onlookers, just another puppet on a string who applauded when the king hit a bull’s-eye and laughed when he attempted a witticism. She stood patiently for an hour while Henry shot his arrows, drinking a mug of ale between every shot. He remained undefeated, and after he’d received enough applause, praise, and outrageous compliments, he decided to notice her presence.

  “Ah sweeting, come walk with me while I try to put your mind at ease.”

  Tina curtsied low and saw his hot gaze linger on her breasts. After a full minute he raised her and retained her hand in his. “It was a case of mistaken identity all along How fortunate it was you came to me! No doubt you have seen the gentleman in question about my sister’s court?”

  “Er—yes, Your Majesty. I believe he is a particular friend of Queen Margaret’s,” she improvised, picking up on his clue.

  “Thanks to you, my lady, the gentleman is already on his way home to Scotland, which brings me to your Lord Douglas.”

  Tina was faint with relief. “Yes, sire?” she murmured breathlessly.

  “I haven’t the vaguest notion where the fellow could be, but I’ll bet he never left Scotland. I’ll wager he isn’t within four hundred miles of Greenwich.”

  I’ll wager he’s within four hundred yards, thought Tina, giddy with relief. She went up on tiptoe and kissed Henry joyfully.

  He bent toward her intimately. “I shall find out for you where Douglas is, even if it takes all winter. Meanwhile, I shall keep you at my side, where I
know you will be safe. Let’s stroll through the maze, sweeting. There is a bench at the center where we may be private from prying eyes.”

  Tina stopped dead in her tracks. “Your Majesty,” she stammered, “I have an unholy fear of l-labyrinths and c-closed up spaces due to being l-locked in a wardrobe as a child.” She snatched her hand from his. “Just the thought of going in there with you has given me a flux of the bowels! Excuse me, sire.” Tina literally ran from the gardens and didn’t stop until she found Ada in the banqueting hall.

  Tina realized she was hungry for the first time in weeks. As she helped herself to a trencher of beef and a pot of ale, she regaled Ada with the tale. “I didn’t lie,” she said between mouthfuls, “The king really does frighten the shit out of me!”

  Suddenly Tina looked up into the eyes of a man who had been watching her. He averted his eyes so quickly, she knew he was following someone’s orders. “Don’t look now, Ada, but we have a watchdog. He’s between us and the door. Dear God, if the servants haven’t taken my things to the stables yet, they’ll never be able to sneak them out.”

  Ada finished her ale and stood up. “We could leave separately. He can’t follow both of us at once.”

  “No, Ada. Don’t leave me alone. We’ll go to my chamber. The king will be in the park for hours.” She hoped the man hadn’t followed her to the tower this morning to see her arrive with one man and leave with another. Nay, she would be under arrest by now if anyone knew she had committed such an act.

  Tina prayed that Ram had not been followed. Then she thought of Heath. They were not supposed to know each other, yet any moment he could be climbing in at her casement window while being followed by one of Tudor’s watchdogs. Her blood slowed in her veins. Spine of God, the king indeed intended to anchor her to his side. He must have sensed she was ready to bolt. Henry Tudor was insatiable—he would devour her.

  Much to their relief the luggage was gone when they went to their rooms. “I’m going to bathe and change now rather than later,” Tina said decisively. “Don’t call for hot water. I’ll just use what’s in our water jugs.”

  Ada emptied the jugs from both rooms into the slipper bath, and Tina sat down in two inches of tepid water. She was out again within five minutes, and Ada helped her into the lovely white gown Ram had bought her. As she fastened the emerald and diamond necklace with trembling fingers, she wished that Ramsay could see her in the beautiful things he had selected for her. Then an unendurable thought came to her: He would see her! She would be watching with the king while Ram masqueraded as a Gypsy!

  Chapter 35

  Before Tina had time to voice her worries to Ada, a knock came upon the door. The king had sent the Countess of Surrey to fetch her to the lawn where they were about to play blind man’s bluff. Tina thought it a game for children until she watched the courtiers at Greenwich play their version. The game was purely and simply an excuse for the gentlemen to fondle the ladies and touch the intimate parts of their bodies as they feigned ignorance of the identity of whom they had captured.

  Whichever man was blindfolded was aided and abetted by the other men, who pushed, pulled, and shoved the ladies into hands waiting to feel them. Tina’s quick wits kept her out of the roaming, grasping hands of the men, but when it was the king’s turn to be blindfolded, she did not stand a chance. Thomas Seymour and Charles Brandon delivered her up to Henry, who managed to caress every part of her body as he guessed each woman’s name of the court save hers. She wished with all her heart she had not chosen the lovely white gown, for before he was finished with her, the King’s fingerprints falsely branded her as his property.

  Tonight’s feast was to take place outdoors since it was the last time until next spring the climate would permit such an undertaking. Oxen, venison, lambs, and kids were turning on their spits above outdoor pits of blazing coals. Barrels of October ale, apple cider, and wine from Spain were rolled from the cellars to the courtyard, then stacked about the trestle tables that had been set up at the edge of the great park.

  The bacchanalia was Henry’s idea to celebrate the bountiful harvest and was a great excuse for revelry and riotous drinking. The tables were decorated with huge cornucopias overflowing with fruit, and the dining area was encircled by golden sheaves of wheat cut from the fields that very morn.

  To give the festival the atmosphere of a country fair, vendors had been allowed to set up their stands in the striped pavilions to hawk roast chestnuts, hot black peas, tripe and trotters, jellied eels, cockles, mussels and winkles, treacle toffee and spotted dick, a sticky jam pudding.

  The Gypsies had set up their fortune-telling booths, and by late afternoon were already doing a brisk business. A Punch and Judy show entertained the gathering crowds and Gypsy musicians strolled about, filling the air with their strange, stirring strains.

  The citizens of London had gathered about Greenwich to watch the court indulge itself and marvel at the excess spread before their eyes. The river was filled with little boats and punts, and its banks were crowded with picnickers until the sun went down.

  The ladies and gentlemen of the court were arrayed in their finest this evening. The men put the women in the shade with their costly clothes and jewels, and the evening was just cool enough for them to show off the latest fashion—a sleeveless, embroidered coat worn over the doublet and falling to the knee. It was a full garment that swung from the shoulders and added girth to every male figure.

  Henry strolled through the park sampling all offerings of food and drink. Lady Valentina was his chosen companion for this celebration, and she forced herself to laugh and respond to his every witticism. Ada trailed after, carrying her lady’s green velvet cloak, and one of the king’s gentlemen performed a similar service for Henry.

  Tina knew she was still being watched. She felt the tension rising until she wanted to scream. Even when he dined al fresco, the king insisted his table be raised higher than the others, and as a servant pulled out the ornately carved chair for her, Tina knew she was the center of attention, sitting high on the platform surrounded by dozens of lit torches to illuminate His Royal Highness.

  As they were served one course after another, acrobats and rope dancers performed for their entertainment and the King’s gentlemen were instructed to throw coins. Next came a dancing bear. It kept one wild eye on the whip of its trainer and looked to Tina as if it were only performing until an opportunity for escape presented itself. She imagined she knew exactly how it felt and was sorry it was so tightly muzzled. She would have enjoyed seeing it maul someone.

  Next came two Gypsy girls with troupes of performing dogs. Their tricks vastly amused the audience of courtiers, but this time instead of throwing coins, the gentlemen threw morsels of meat and scraps from the table. It caused pandemonium. The Gypsy girls lost control of their animals Tricks were forgotten as the dogs snatched food from each other, snarling and biting and lashing their angry tails. The crowd was thoroughly amused as one or two serious dog fights broke out, and Henry and his gentlemen placed heavy wagers with each other on the outcome.

  When enough food and drink had been consumed to feed half of England, the tables were pushed aside so the king could have an unimpeded view of the entertainment. The court roared its appreciation at the caperings of a fire-eater who chased the king’s dwarf about trying to set fire to his derrière. Whenever it did manage to catch on fire, the dwarf’s arse was so close to the ground, he simply rubbed his bum in the dirt to extinguish the flame.

  Jugglers tossed about lit torches with dizzying speed. Live coals were spread on the ground, and a Gypsy man walked across unscathed, but got no volunteers from his audience to duplicate his act.

  “These Gypsies are sly fellows,” Henry told Tina. “Every last one is a charlatan. There is a trick to every performance—the fellow doesn’t really put his feet into hot coals.”

  Tina hung on every word, assuring him that he was the cleverest man on earth.

  “Here comes a bareback rider. Now t
his takes skill,” informed Henry as a dozen white ponies cantered into the circle of tables.

  Tina froze. The swarthy man who balanced on the back of the lead animal wore tight black hose with a scarlet kerchief tied about his neck. She couldn’t believe it. It was Ram Douglas! How in the name of heaven had he learned to do such reckless things? His lithe body seemed to glide effortlessly to the ground, then up onto a different animal’s back every time. He leaped from pony to pony as they cantered beneath his agile feet, and Tina’s heart was in her throat lest he slip where he would surely be trampled beneath the painted hooves. Her attention was riveted upon him, and she saw that his dark eyes smoldered with anger as he saw her with the king.

  Henry placed a possessive hand upon her knee when he saw her looking at the handsome Gypsy and said in a voice that carried, “I think the damned fellow envies me.”

  Tina, afraid of both men at this moment, murmured, “All men envy the king, Your Majesty.”

  “Come, sit on my lap. Let’s really give the insolent fellow something to covet.”

  “Nay, Your Majesty,” Tina cried, shrinking back in alarm “Every eye is upon us.”

  The king chuckled. “You are a shy little thing with a passion for privacy.” He bent close to whisper, “I should like to kidnap you and carry you off on my barge downriver to one of my other palaces, where we could be entirely alone.”

  Tina glanced fearfully at the swarthy bareback rider as he jumped through flaming hoops. The look he returned was murderous. Henry’s attention, much to Tina’s relief, was transferred to the Gypsy dancers, who had just entered the circle. Every man present felt a stir of desire as the scantily clad Gypsy girls swirled rhythmically, going faster and faster, stamping their feet to show off slim brown legs as their red skirts flared from their tempting bodies. They had a wildness in their blood, and any male who watched the flashing white teeth and long black hair felt the wildness enter his own blood.

  Henry’s hand was no longer content to paw her knees. It slipped higher and higher while at the same time he urged the small hand he held captive toward his own bulging sex. The Gypsy girls went around the perimeter of the tables, teasing the men with the beat of their tambourines, barely avoiding the outstretched hands groping to touch a thigh or a breast.