Love in a Mist

by Patricia Grasso

  “Your Majesty, I do freely admit that His Grace discovered his daughter and me in bed,” Richard spoke up. “I am willing to wed her.”

  Too nervous in the queen’s presence even to turn her head, Keely glanced sidelong at the earl. His bold words colored her complexion a vibrant scarlet. Stealing her innocence was bad enough, but how did he dare to announce their shame to the Queen of England?

  “You randy cock,” Elizabeth shouted. “I should make you shorter by a head.”

  Frightened, Keely opened her mouth to cry out, but Duke Robert was faster. He snaked his hand out and covered her mouth in a gesture to remain silent.

  “I will spend the remainder of October at Nonsuch,” the queen said. “Both of you will return to Hampton Court on the tenth day of November and be wed at the Royal Chapel. I want an end to this absurd business.” She turned to the duke and asked, “What of your other daughter?”

  “Morgana has a list of possible—”

  “Marry the chit to anyone you want—excepting a Darnley cousin,” the queen interrupted, rising from her throne.

  Duke Robert dropped to one bended knee. “I have one final request.”

  Elizabeth’s gray gaze narrowed on him. “You’re pressing your luck, Ludlow.”

  The duke’s expression became even more determined. His violet gaze never wavered from hers.

  “Well, get on with it,” Elizabeth snapped. “What is it?”

  “I beg permission to wed the Countess of Cheshire,” Duke Robert said. “That is, as soon as Keely is settled.”

  “Cheshire’s already nagged three husbands into the grave,” Elizabeth said, “but I care not if you wed the lowest scullery maid. This marriage foolishness gives me the headache.” With those parting words, she stormed out of the chamber.

  “Fornicating fools,” Burghley muttered, leveling a disgusted look on the lot of them. He hurried after the queen.

  “I will call upon you at Talbot House to negotiate the contract this afternoon,” Richard told the duke. He smiled at Keely, kissed her hand, and then quit the chamber.

  Shock at what had transpired kept Keely’s anger at bay and fixed her mind on the trivial. As they left the audience chamber, she asked the countess, “Why did the queen call the earl Midas?”

  “’Tis her nickname for him,” Lady Dawn answered.

  “What does it mean?”

  “Midas was a legendary king whose touch turned everything to gold,” Duke Robert explained. “So too does the earl possess the golden touch with his business ventures.”

  Trust the king who wears the flaming crown and possesses the golden touch . . .

  Megan’s prophecy came rushing back: to Keely, the significance of it nearly felling her. Had her mother seen the earl in her visions? Was he truly the man in whom she should place her trust? How could she ever be certain?

  * * *

  “My lady?” whispered a voice.

  “Richard said her name is Keely,” a second voice told the first.

  “Lady Keely, time to awaken,” the first called in a loud whisper. “Napping beneath an oak tree isn’t at all the thing to do.”

  Swimming up from the depths of unconsciousness, Keely heard the voices as if they called to her from a great distance. Was she dreaming?

  “She won’t wake up,” the first voice said.

  “What should we do?” asked the second.

  “Nudge her.”

  “What if she’s dead?” the second asked in a horrified whisper. Then: “Ouch! You needn‘t pinch me.”

  “She’s not dead,” the first voice said. “Perhaps if both of us call her?”

  “Lady Keely,” the women chimed in unison. “Wake up!”

  Keely bolted up straight, startling the young women who cried out and leaped back a pace. Confused, Keely stared at their smiling faces and gazed at her surroundings. She still sat on the grass beneath her favorite oak tree in her father's garden.

  Keely rubbed her eyes and then looked at the women. Double images of the same woman stood in front of her. What was wrong with her vision?

  She looked at them again. Twins. Dark-eyed brunettes, the women appeared to be a year or two younger than herself. The twins were mirror images, the only difference between them a tiny beauty mark above one girl’s upper lip.

  “Who are you?” Keely asked.

  “I’m May,” the twin with the beauty mark answered.

  “And I’m June,” the other said.

  That told Keely nothing. Her gaze narrowed on them. “What are you doing here?”

  May and June looked at each other and giggled.

  “We’re Richard’s kinsmen,” May told her.

  “Kinswomen,” June corrected her sister.

  May gave June a censorious glare, then smiled at Keely. “Richard—I mean, the earl—invited us to be your tiringwoman.”

  “Women,” June corrected her sister again.

  May reached out and slapped her sister’s arm.

  Keely burst out laughing. Their bickering reminded her of Odo and Hew, who always seemed to be arguing with each other.

  “I do not require tiringwomen’s services.”

  “We’ll never advance in life if you don’t,” June whined.

  “Being chosen made us so happy,” May said. “Our sister Spring—”

  “Born on March the twenty-first,” June interjected.

  “—is Lady Brigette’s tiringwoman,” May finished.

  “Who is Lady Brigette?” Keely asked.

  “Richard’s sister,” the twins chorused together.

  “Our sister April Is Lady Heather’s woman,” June said.”

  “Lady Heather is also Richard’s sister?” Keely asked.

  “Yes,” the twins chimed.

  “We hoped to be yours,” May said, her expression downcast.

  Keely swallowed the laughter bubbling up inside her. Even by Welsh standards, these women were refreshingly candid. Leaning against the oak, Keely eyed them. “Four sisters named Spring, April, May, and June?”

  “Mother named April for the month she was born,” May told her.

  “What about you?” Keely asked.

  “Us too,” June answered.

  “But you’re twins,” Keely exclaimed, making them giggle.

  “I was born on the last day of May.”

  “And I was born on the first day of June.”

  Keely smiled at the delightfully bizarre sisters. “From where did you come?”

  “Next door,” they chorused.

  Keely’s smile became a chuckle. Their good humor and enthusiasm were contagious. “Very well,” Keely said. “You may be my tiringwomen.”

  The two sisters screamed with delight, hugged each other, and jumped up and down with glee. Remembering themselves, they looked at their new mistress and smiled sheepishly.

  “Forgive our happy outburst,” June apologized.

  “We’ll be the best tiringwoman ever,” May promised.

  “Women, “ June corrected her.

  May reached out and pinched her sister.

  “There she is,” a masculine voice said.

  Keely looked across the garden and waved a greeting to Odo and Hew. “My cousins,” she said to the twins, who stood gaping at the giants advancing on them.

  “We heard the happy news about your betrothal to the earl,” Odo said, ignoring the two staring sisters.

  “Why didn’t you tell us yourself?” Hew asked, his hurt apparent in his voice.

  Keely rose from the ground, took a moment to brush the back of her gown, and then leaned back against the oak. “I needed time alone to think.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Hew asked, genuinely puzzled.

  Odo cuffed the side of his brother’s head. “The girl needed to ponder her forthcoming marriage.”

  May glared at Odo and then sidled up to Hew. She placed the palm of her hand against his head, asking solicitously, “Did he hurt you?”

  Hew smiled, and there was no
mistaking the gleam in his eyes when he answered, “I’ll feel better if you stroke it gently.”

  Jealous of the attention being lavished upon his brother, Odo scowled and glanced at June, who smiled at him with adoration in her eyes. He returned her smile.

  “You’re very strong,” she complimented him.

  Odo rolled his sleeve up and clenched his right hand, then held his fist against the side of his head and made the enormous muscle in his upper arm bounce up and down in a dance.

  Keely and June clapped with enthusiasm.

  Not to be outdone, Hew rolled his own sleeves up and made both of his upper arm muscles dance.

  All three women clapped their appreciation.

  “I can touch my nose with the tip of my tongue,” Odo bragged.

  “I can wiggle my ears and touch my nose with the tip of my tongue,” a voice behind them boasted. “At the same time.”

  Keely whirled around at the sound of that voice. With his hands resting on his hips, Richard stood there.

  “Show Odo and Hew around Devereux House,” Richard bade May and June. “Introduce them to my staff.”

  Odo and Hew followed the twins down the path that led to the earl’s estate. Watching them walk away, Keely said, “My cousins are warriors, not servants.”

  “From what I just witnessed,” Richard said, “they don’t behave like any warrior I’ve ever seen.”

  Keely flicked him a sidelong glance. Much to her consternation, the earl leaned beside her against the tree. “They bested you in Shropshire.”

  “I would have beaten Hew,” the earl told her, “but ’twas two against one.”

  “A testament to your virility,” Keely said, and then regretted her choice of words.

  Richard leaned close, so close that she felt his warm breath on her cheek. “In no more than a month, my lady, you’ll feel the full weight of my virility.”

  Keely blushed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, but she refused any other acknowledgment of his sensual threat. “Do not let my cousins’ lack of intelligence fool you, my lord,” she warned. “Odo and Hew could get to the pope and live to tell the story. My cousins are near invincible as long as they understand and follow the orders of others.”

  “Mayhap they’ll pledge themselves to me after we’re wed,” Richard replied. “I can always use a few more good men.”

  Keely arched an ebony brow at him in a perfect imitation of his irritating habit. “Odo and Hew are forsworn to me.”

  “Women in England do not keep men-at-arms,” he informed her.

  “I’ll start a new fashion,” she teased, giving him an unconsciously flirtatious look. “’Tis no more unusual than the sight of men who rouge their cheeks.”

  Richard smiled. “Would you care to see my muscles dance?”

  Keely struggled against a smile but lost. She leaned back against the oak and gazed at him, marveling at how incredibly handsome he was—and deceitful.

  Steeling herself against the powerful urge to fling herself into his arms and press her lips to his, Keely asked with a tinge of censure in her voice, “And how are your injured ankles today? Dare we hope for a miraculous overnight recovery?”

  Richard cast her a devastating grin and then leaned close, so close his lips were only inches from hers. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I yearned to be in your company again, but I couldn't control myself once you sat beside me on the bed. I had no idea your father would burst into my chamber. Forgive me?”

  Keely sighed and glanced away. What else could she do but forgive him? The die was cast, and for better or for worse she would become his wife on the tenth day of November. She nodded once in acceptance of his apology.

  “Let’s seal your forgiveness with a kiss,” he said.

  Keely snapped her gaze back to his. “Stealing my virtue does not give you leave to enjoy liberties with my person.”

  Stealing her virtue? Did she actually believe that what they had done on his bed amounted to a loss of virtue? Oh, what an innocent minx she was turning out to be.

  “As I told my cousins,” Keely said, “I came to sit beneath this oak and enjoy some peace. Then the world descended on me.”

  “You were kissing this tree the other day,” Richard teased her. “By the way, you never did tell me. What was that game you and your cousins played?”

  Keely blushed. How much had he witnessed that day? Apparently, enough to make him wonder. What would the earl do when he discovered he’d married a Druid?

  “Will you kiss my oak and bring us luck?” Richard asked, his green eyes lit with amusement.

  “That sounds lascivious. Besides, only earls may kiss the oak tree today.”

  “I’d rather kiss you.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” Keely held him off with her hand. Then, “I have no need for a tiringwoman. Why did you send me two?”

  “The Countess of Basildon does need a tiringwoman,” Richard told her. “Besides, I’m fond of both May and June. I couldn’t ask the one without hurting the other. Thus, for the sake of familial peace, you’ll make do with two.”

  Keely admired his loyalty to his family, but her expression grew somber. “You’ve made a tragic mistake, my lord,” she warned him. “A marriage between us will be disastrous.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I believe it,” Keely said, her violet-eyed gaze pleading for understanding. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m different from Ladies Jane and Sarah and all those other women.”

  “I noticed.” Richard planted his hands on either side of her head as she pressed her back against the oak tree. Leaning close, he added, “I don’t desire those other women, else I would have married one of them.”

  His nearness and his clean masculine scent assaulted her senses. Keely felt him with every tingling fiber of her body and was certain he could hear the frantic pounding of her heart. How could she live the remainder of her life with this agitation? She’d be dead within a week.

  “I have secrets,” Keely tried to discourage him. “I cannot share them.”

  “Dark secrets?” He traced a finger down the length of her cheek. “Beauty, your heart is pure and as easy to read as an open book. Besides, I’m partial to ebony hair and violet eyes.”

  “Marry His Grace,” she said, frustrated by his lack of caution. Why would he not heed her warning? An experienced man of the world, the earl should know that appearances could be deceptive.

  A sudden unfamiliar pang that Keely failed to recognize as jealousy shot through her. She narrowed her gaze on him. “To what were you partial before ebony hair and violet eyes?”

  Richard gave her a lazy smile. “Blondes, brunettes, and redheads.”

  “I suspected as much,” Keely said. “You, my high-and-mighty lord, are partial to getting your own way.”

  Richard frowned at the censure in her voice.

  “Are you in pain?” she asked, alarmed. “I know how to alleviate it.”

  Though he’d never traveled that road before, sympathy was an alternate route to a female’s heart. “’Tis throbbing a bit.”

  “Close your eyes.” Keely stepped close and placed the palms of her hands against his temples. Trying to garner the needed concentration, she closed her own eyes, and her lips moved in a silent chant.

  Without warning, Richard’s mouth covered hers. His arms circled her body and yanked her against the hard muscular planes of his own.

  Keely’s senses reeled. Instinctively, she entwined her arms around his neck and surrendered to his warm insistent lips.

  And then it was over as quickly and unexpectedly as it had begun.

  Keely opened her eyes and saw his satisfied smile.

  “I told you I’d rather not kiss,” she said, embarrassed by her easy capitulation to his sensual onslaught.

  “’Tis your own fault, sweetheart. You’re too damn irresistible.”

  “I’ll forgive you this time.” Keely knew that he knew she hadn’t protested overmuch.


  “Would you escort me to your father?”

  Keely looked from his emerald gaze to his offered hand. She had the feeling his question was symbolic, somehow more significant than his casual voice implied. The earl was asking something more of her, something she felt powerless to refuse him.

  Keely placed her hand in his. His fingers closed around it, trapping her in a pleasurable captivity. Hand in hand, they strolled in silence across the lawn to Talbot House.

  “I believe His Grace awaits you in the study,” Keely said when they entered the main foyer.

  Richard kissed her hand. “Until this evening, my beauty.”

  He started down the corridor, but her voice stopped him.

  “My lord?”

  Richard turned around.

  Keely gave him a mischievous smile. “Can you really wiggle your ears and touch your nose with your tongue?”

  “Among other things.” Richard winked at her. “I’ll perform for you on our wedding night.”

  Hours later, Keely stood in front of the pier glass in her father’s bedchamber and studied her reflection. A woman’s betrothal was one of life’s milestones, and though Keely felt she was stepping down the road to disaster, she wanted to look her best on this momentous occasion.

  Her gown, created in violet velvet that matched her eyes, had a square neckline and a tight-fitting bodice. Around her neck glittered her mother’s legacy to her, the jeweled dragon pendant. Making an unspoken statement about her pride in her Welsh heritage, Keely had brushed her ebony hair until it crackled and then let it cascade in pagan fashion to her waist.

  Keely turned away from the pier glass but delayed leaving the chamber. She dreaded the actual moment when she would sign her life and her well-being into the earl’s keeping. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, but the image of the earl’s devastating smile flitted across her mind’s eye.

  In her secret heart, Keely knew she would succumb to his charm. She hoped she wouldn't be too hurt when he became disenchanted with the outsider he’d married in a moment of foolishness.

  Who am I trying to deceive? Already infatuated with him, she'd be crushed when his affections wandered to those sophisticated women at court.