Lords of the Kingdom

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Lords of the Kingdom Page 71

by Le Veque, Kathryn


  Edward leaned back in his chair with a smile. “Why the astonished look? Did you expect to hear otherwise?”

  “I counted on it. I’m uncertain what to do. I’d planned on telling the king today that I’m retiring from the circle.”

  Edward’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why the hell would you do that? We need you more than ever now, after losing Pearson and Stratmore. The king may let Stratmore live, after hearing what you’ve told me, but you know the man will never serve with us again.”

  “I know it.” Grey circled his shoulders around and tried to ease some of the tension that mounted every time he thought about Stratmore’s life being in his hands. Would Madelaine forgive him if he failed to convince His Majesty to allow her father to keep his life? The thought of her enduring such pain because he had not succeeded sat like a lead ball in the pit of his stomach.

  “Grey, you’ve not answered me.”

  “What did you ask?”

  Edward leaned forward and placed his palms on the table. “I asked why you would think it necessary to quit the circle.”

  “I was worried that if the choice came to the king or Madelaine, I would choose Madelaine.” No sense in burdening Edward with the knowledge of what Grey had already done.

  Edward nodded. “I won’t pretend to understand. I’m not like you and Father. I’ve never met a woman who’s made me doubt the king should be first in my life. Yet Father managed to serve both the king and be a good husband. I’ve no doubt you’ll manage it as well.”

  Grey sagged in his chair at Edward’s unrealized blessing. Marrying Madelaine would not have changed no matter what Edward said, but knowing he was treading the same path his father had managed made Grey feel more secure. He rose and glanced down at his brother. “I want to speak with the king before my wedding tonight. What of his mind? How was he when last you saw him?”

  “Completely well and reasonable. I say we go to him now and beg Stratmore’s case. The king’s consent to let Stratmore live would probably make your bride very happy.”

  “We?” Grey raised an eyebrow. “You’ll go with me? I would not have thought you could stomach asking the king to pardon Stratmore when the man was going to try to help put the prince on the throne.”

  “I do it for you.” Edward’s voice was low. “You are my brother, and I’ll always stand by you. I believe you lost this.” Edward held Grey’s ring to him.

  Grey took it and grasped Edward. To hear his brother say he would always stand by him was like hearing words he’d always longed for. He’d wanted to hear them from his father, but his father had cared, and now Edward and he had the kind of relationship he’d longed for but could never quite grasp because of his hurt. Father had to be smiling on them. Today was full of surprises. Pray God, they were all good.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Madelaine ran a finger over the gown she wore. It was beautiful with the encrusted pearls in a pattern of leaves. It fit a bit too tight, but the lush robe of silver brocade that billowed from her shoulders would help disguise that.

  “Thank you for allowing me to borrow your wedding gown, Helen.”

  Helen clasped Madelaine to her. “I always hoped for a daughter to wear my dress. Oh, my dear.” She sniffed. “You look exquisite.”

  Butterflies fluttered in Madelaine’s stomach. She had delayed putting on her wedding gown when Grey had sent word pushing the ceremony time back, but now that the gown was on, if someone dared to knock on that door and give her another note, she’d storm the castle and drag Grey to the altar.

  Helen patted Madelaine’s arm. “Everyone in my family is always late. Wipe the furrow from your brow and remember that. Tardiness doesn’t mean Grey has changed his mind.”

  “I’m not worried. I trust in Grey’s love.” The truth made her smile.

  “It’s good to see you so sure and happy. I’m off to the chapel,” Helen said. “Abby will see you safely there.”

  Madelaine nodded, wishing her father would be with her as she got married, yet knowing the futility of the wish.

  Once she and Abby were alone in the room, Madelaine faced Abby. “I vow to you that if Father is pardoned, I will do everything in my power to ensure he treats you like a daughter, but I want you to know I always wished you were my sister, and no matter the history, I’m glad you are.”

  The two of them clung together for a moment, hugging, laughing and alternately sniffing, but Abby scolded Madelaine when a tear slipped down her cheek. “Don’t you dare cry and ruin how beautiful you look. Things will work out. I firmly believe it. No doubt Lord Grey has already set everything to rights.”

  Madelaine nibbled her lip. “I hope so. I wish I could have gone with him to speak with the king.”

  “Well, you couldn’t.” Abby placed a wreath of flowers on Madelaine’s head. “He thinks only to protect you, and you need to let him.”

  A few minutes later, they entered the courtyard before the chapel, and Abby paused by the fountain. “I’m so happy for you. And I know your father—”

  “Our father,” Madelaine corrected in a very low voice.

  Abby frowned, but jerked her head in a nod. “He’ll be happy for you too, once he hears about your wedding, of course.”

  Madelaine blinked back tears at the reminder that while she was dressed in finery and about to marry the man she loved, her father had counted on her to save him and she had failed. It didn’t seem right to marry Grey today when her father might hang tomorrow or the next day, yet marrying Grey would not change her father’s fate.

  “Ready?” Abby asked.

  Madelaine nodded and drew in a deep breath as she followed Abby to the chapel door.

  Shifting from foot to foot, Grey stood at the front of the chapel beside his brother and tried to quell his impatience. Getting the king to agree to pardon Stratmore had been much easier than Grey had expected. No one outside of their small circle, and the two guards assigned to watch Stratmore at the tower, knew of his incarceration, and Grey suspected that fact, along with the king’s guilt over Sutton, helped decide the king’s mind. Those who had known Stratmore was in the tower now thought he’d been cleared and was free to go home. Of course, Grey was now responsible for making sure Stratmore never attempted to come back to Court, but he had no worries about that.

  He would do anything for Madelaine, and when he’d told Stratmore that he was not going to hang, the man had alternated between relief and fear the king would make another bad decision that would cost another man his life. Stratmore’s fears had calmed when Grey told him the king had put cautionary measures in place in case his mind became muddled again. Then Madelaine’s father had become angry when Grey had given him the news of his impending marriage. Stratmore was a smart man. He’d agreed to come rather quickly when Grey told him he could either give his blessing to the wedding, or Grey would pretend he had and not release the man until after the wedding was over.

  Stratmore glared at Grey from the back of the church. Grey didn’t mind the duke’s anger. The most important thing was how happy Madelaine would be to see her father when she entered the church and to have him walk with her down the aisle, even if the man did have to leave Court immediately after with Edward as his escort.

  Edward tapped Grey on the shoulder. “You can quit fidgeting now. Your bride’s here.”

  The first person Madelaine saw when she entered the church was her father. He stood by the door, his hair freshly cut, clothes pressed to perfection, but dark shadows under his eyes. “Father!” Her voice caught in her throat, and she dashed at the tears streaming down her face.

  He embraced her and pressed a kiss to her head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have never asked for your help. I set you an impossible task against formidable opponents.”

  “Do you regret the choice you made?”

  “I made it out of love for the king and England, but I fear I was wrong, that I went about trying to protect the king in the wrong way. I was angry, confused and desperate, but
none of it excuses my betrayal. I’ve sat in the grime, and I’ve realized my betrayal of the king was worse than anything I blamed on him.”

  His voice broke on the last word and dropped even lower. “I cannot change what I’ve done, and I’ve been thrown from Court, but I’ve been told by Lord Grey, I’ll keep my life and my properties. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I beg you to try.”

  “I do forgive you.” She kissed his cheek and then his hands. “And I need to ask forgiveness of you.”

  His eyebrows furrowed together. “For what?”

  “For refusing to be a dutiful daughter. For putting strife between you and Mother when there was already so much tension between you. I cannot change that I took her from you.” Madelaine’s throat clenched on admitting aloud her greatest shame.

  “You didn’t take her.”

  “Your last fight was over me, was it not?”

  “No, my dear, it was not. Our last fight was over my own flaws and desires.”

  “I think I may know something of what you speak,” Madelaine said.

  Her father’s eyes rounded in surprise. “If you do, then surely you understand now why your mother was angry so often. It was anger toward me. Not you. Unfortunately, she took it out on you. But she did love you. And she would have wanted you to be happy. You are sure Lord Grey will make you happy?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Do you really know him?”

  Madelaine met her father’s seeking gaze. “He’s told me everything. I know about the circle.”

  Her father’s lips parted in surprise before curling in a faint smile. “Lord Grey is wise, indeed. I wish I’d only been so sage.”

  “He’s also impatient,” Madelaine gently said, aware they’d been standing here for several long minutes.

  “Yes, yes. Come. Let us get you married.”

  She took the elbow her father proffered and walked into the main chapel. Her eyes widened at the beauty of the room. Candlelight fluttered everywhere, illuminating the tall oak choir stalls, ornately carved with fretted canopies over them. When the music commenced, Madelaine took a deep breath and walked slowly down the aisle.

  A short, rotund priest stood in front of the altar with Grey and Ashford to his left. Grey turned fully toward her. She missed a step and would have tripped, but her father gripped her arm and kept her upright. Grey looked devastatingly handsome and slightly dangerous, dressed head to toe in black, except for his snowy white linen shirt and cravat.

  His breeches clung indecently to his legs and conjured memories of his hard body pressed against hers. A slight smile pulled at his lips, causing a lovely crinkle around his eyes. She trembled in response.

  At the altar, her father released her and she took Grey’s hand.

  “Enchanting,” he whispered.

  “So are you.” She tried to concentrate as the priest spoke, but her heart drummed against her ribs, and each time Grey rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, she forgot to listen. Disbelieving she was actually about to be married to the man who had her whole heart, she kept looking at him until the priest cleared his throat with a pointed look at her.

  As Grey repeated his vows, she listened to the words of commitment, honor and trust, understanding with a deep instinct he would never break a single oath. He slid a heavy gold band on her finger and pledged his love.

  At the end of her vows, Madelaine placed Grey’s wedding band on his finger before the priest pronounced them husband and wife. Grey enfolded her in his arms and he gave her a passionate kiss that ended only when cheering and clapping broke out around them. A blush heated her cheeks and neck, but she didn’t care. She no longer cared about anything but loving Grey.

  Madelaine was shocked to see the queen stand from the pews, all the ladies-in-waiting rising behind her. When the queen and Grace smiled at Madelaine at the same time, all she could do was stare in wonder. Grey pressed his lips close to her ear. “Aunt Helen spoke with the queen and was able to convince her of the error of her ways in her treatment of you. And as you know, the ladies-in-waiting follow the queen’s lead.”

  Madelaine didn’t have time to do more than nod at the astonishing revelations before the queen was before her. “Congratulations.” She extended her hand for Madelaine and Grey to kiss. “I would like to offer you a wedding gift. I had one of my personal chambers made into a wedding chamber for you.”

  That was likely as close to an apology as Madelaine would ever receive. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope we can return such a generous offer someday.”

  “There is no need.” The queen beamed. “Go and enjoy being young, healthy and in love. I took it upon myself to have all your belongings transferred into the bedchamber. So off with you both.” The queen waved them away.

  “Slow down.” Madelaine giggled as Grey nearly ran with her down the aisle and scooped her up to deposit her into the carriage. He clambered in and gave a clipped order to go.

  She looked out the window with a grin at the frowning guests filing out of the chapel with rice bags in hand, and then she turned her gaze to her husband. “That was unpardonably rude of us.”

  He yanked off his cravat with one hand while he grasped her arm with his other and pulled her nearer to him. His powerful thigh brushed her, and his masculine scent surrounded her. He licked his lips, his eyes sparkling. “I’ll tell the coachman to turn around and head back to the chapel, if you wish it.”

  “Don’t you dare.” She pressed her hand against his chest then slid it down to rest on his leg near the top of his thigh. His muscles jerked under her touch. “All I want,” she said, kissing his neck and then lower at his open collar where hair peeked from his shirt, “is to have you take me in your arms and love me forever.”

  “Oh, I’ll take you,” he promised, nipping at her ear until she moaned. “And I’ll love you forever and beyond.”

  Grey studied Madelaine’s face as they entered the bedchamber and she took in the rich red and gold silk of the heavy bedding with the mounds of soft inviting pillows. For him it invoked images of the two of them intertwined and naked. Was it the same for her? “What do you think?”

  A smile curved the corners of her mouth, and her eyes grew slumberous. “It’s too wicked to say, so I shall say this—I think the king should use your aunt in future negotiations. She obviously has a talent for convincing people of things that would have never entered their mind.”

  He chuckled as he slid his arms around Madelaine’s waist and closed the door with the toe of his shoe. “I would have liked to have seen how Helen persuaded the queen she’d been wrong while somehow managing not to rile the queen’s temper.”

  “Me too.” Madelaine leaned her head back against his chest. “That particular talent would be helpful when it comes to you.”

  He inhaled the scent of fresh flowers that wafted from her hair and tightened his grip around the soft curve of her waist. “I’ll tell you a secret.” He swept her hair off her neck and kissed the long, elegant slope. His blood went straight to his groin.

  Her answer was a moan followed by a ragged, “What?”

  He trailed his fingers over her collarbone, then slid them lower to rub gently over one hard nipple that strained against the material of her wedding dress before lavishing the same attention on the other. She twisted to face him, her face flushed pink with desire. When she licked her lips, his blood strummed in his ears to join the throbbing in his groin.

  “What’s your secret?” Her husky question made him want to forget talking, rip off all her clothes, and show her how weak with need she made him just by simply being near.

  He slid his hands around her back to the exquisite curve of her delectable bottom and squeezed the inviting flesh. Her eyes rounded, but she did not lean away as he pulled her against his hard groin. “If ever you want to convince me of something, just appear naked, and I vow my temper will not be roused, no matter the request.”

  She cocked her head to the side, her pink tongue dartin
g out to wet her lips once more. “That’s good to know, but that may spark some interesting talk among our household staff.”

  “True.” He massaged her bottom while enjoying watching her pupils dilate. The ache in his groin had grown painful, but he would take things slow with her tonight. He’d promised himself tonight was about pleasing her, giving all to her. “I suppose if you want to convince me of something without my temper coming to play then make sure to do it in the bedroom.”

  “Or lock the door of the room we’re in.” She grinned wickedly. “I believe I would start like this.” Her hand slid down his chest, leaving gooseflesh in its wake, coming to rest on his shaft. She squeezed with slight pressure that tore a ragged groan from his throat.

  “God, I crave you.” He swooped one arm beneath her legs and picked her up. A growl escaped his lips as her soft body pushed harder against his aching staff. When she touched his face with her fingertips, a shudder coursed through him.

  She pressed a velvet kiss against his lips. “I crave you too.”

  That was all the invitation he needed. His mouth came down upon hers, the fierceness of his need to be inside his wife stunning him. She met each stroke of his tongue with her own as her hands slid up to his neck and delved into his hair. When her nails raked over his scalp, desire shot from his head, down his body and propelled him toward the bed. He set her on the edge and kneeled in front of her. His hands shook with need as he attempted to undue the rows of buttons that fastened her dress. “Damnation,” he swore, frustrated with all the fasteners.

  “Let me.” Her strained voice revealed the urgency she felt.

  Coming to her knees, she unhooked her dress, and as she worked, he kissed her neck, massaging the tender skin with his lips until she moaned low. The shimmering material slid off her shoulders, down her arms and fell at her knees. He laid her back gently and ran his fingers up the smooth skin of her legs before bringing his hands back down again and slipping the dress off her feet to deposit it in a heap on the floor.

 

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