The King's Courtesan

by Judith James

She very much feared it was burned in her memory. It was part of who he was and now it was a part of her.

  Oh, God! Just as his sister’s death is forever a part of him, and Harris’s death will forever be a part of his son. She felt a deep sense of despair. Robert wasn’t the pure and shining knight of her dreams, nor the monster of his own.

  He was honorable and kind and tried to do right, but whether born to it or brought to it by circumstance, he was also a warrior, battered and scarred by wounds so deep they might never heal.

  She had said his mistress was revenge and Oakes had cal ed him married to that cold dark bitch cal ed war. Could a man like that ever settle for the kind of life she wanted?

  As husband, father, lover, friend? Had it been fair to ask him to choose, or to blame him for fol owing the only path he knew? And did any of it matter anymore when he’d sent her back to Charles?

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Oxford Kate’s, London

  ROBERT N ICHOLS WAS FAR MORE comfortable giving help than asking for it, and Wil iam de Veres wasn’t making it any easier.

  “Good God, man! You mean to say you’ve misplaced her?

  She’s a wee little thing, I’l grant you, but a fel ow real y should try and remember where last he left his wife.”

  “And where is Elizabeth?” Robert asked through gritted teeth. “Perhaps she would know where a woman of quality might lodge if not at the palace. I’ve always found her very resourceful.”

  “Lizzy? Damned if I know. Probably off in a gambling hel fleecing the life savings from some off-duty footmen. She’s very partial to them, you know.”

  “No…I didn’t know.”

  “You are fond of the girl, then?”

  “Of course I am! She is my wife.” They paused their conversation as a barmaid came in with bread and beer.

  He was more than fond of her. Much more. He’d been struck by an epiphany in the middle of a tavern, with his enemy at his mercy, the tip of his sword at the breast of a lad who looked as lost and angry as he had once been, and the wife he loved walking out the door. She didn’t belong to Charles. From the moment she danced in the park he’d known her as his. She had lent him her laughter, her passion, her trust, and for the first time in years, life was worth the living.

  She asked but one thing, and look how I repaid her. By abandoning the future, abandoning her, to ride back to a past I hated. She’d stood by him as he relived his darkest hours, and she was right when she said it was his turn to stand by her. And so he’d abandoned his revenge. Hope was more important. The boy was more important. But the decision was not without its dangers.

  “Wel …Charlie hasn’t seen her yet or I would know it. Does she want to be found, Captain?”

  “Eh? What? Oh. Perhaps not.” Robert shifted uncomfortably. “She has reason to be annoyed with me. I doubt she’s expecting me. She was greatly disturbed when I decided to go after Harris rather than accompany her.”

  “That was not wel played, my friend. You have arrived in time to redeem yourself, but what if it’s Charlie she wants?”

  “It isn’t.”

  “So you have managed to capture the heart of one of London’s most charming beauties?”

  “Her heart and her hand are both mine.” At least he hoped so. “I mean to bring her home.”

  “Safe from our sovereign’s greedy reach. I understand. But what to do about Harris? It’s unfortunate you weren’t able to finish him off. A wounded beast is a dangerous one.”

  “I would have had to kil his boy. The lad was innocent.” Wil iam nodded. “It wasn’t I who sent you the note, by the way.”

  “I know. I suspected it for a trap immediately, but as I was already there…” He shrugged.

  “Fortunately, the trap is not yet sprung. It was baited, of course, to capture larger prey. Harris hoped to lure you there to make you seem a part of it, then play the role of informant and savior in front of his grateful king. You fought for Cromwel . A rumor here and there and next you are a Puritan. An old association found and voilà, a Fifth Monarchist, incensed at a king who would make you a cuckold. People wil believe what they hear on very little evidence, because though it may be a sin to believe evil of others, it is seldom a mistake.

  “We shal do to him what he meant to do to you. He’s already placed himself in Farnley. Several men can claim to see him there, including one of His Majesty’s paid informers, Joshua Greathead. It’s a simple matter to put him in the midst of the plot. Yes, he was a royalist, but then a parliamentarian, and then back he goes to a royalist once more. Who can trust such a man or guess what he might do? Particularly when the king humiliated him in front of al London, by promising a reward for returning to the fold only to snatch it away to give to a lowly country baronet. A great many people owe him large sums of money. They wil be glad to believe it and glad to see him gone.” Robert tilted his head and regarded Wil iam through narrowed eyes. “Just what do you do for the king? Besides writing scurrilous verse?”

  “Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that. Only on occasion and when I’m in the mood, but I’ve always found it useful to know useful things. Hopeful y you were circumspect?”

  “I am always.”

  “At the tavern, too?”

  “Only Harris is alive, knows who I am and could place me there.”

  “The boy? He might ask questions.”

  “A necessary risk. A tolerable one. Leave him out of it.”

  “None wil notice if a minnow escapes the net. It wil have to be drawn tight immediately, though, so no one else does. It would be best you were innocently asleep with your wife when it happens.”

  The silence that fol owed was interrupted by a muffled burst of laughter and the soft strains of a fiddle from the room below.

  “It doesn’t seem honorable.” Robert sighed and unsheathed the longsword, laying it across his lap. It glittered blue and orange, reflecting flames from the hearth. “This was meant for him.”

  “He is rapist and murderer and I promise you, he does dabble at treason. He doesn’t deserve any kind of honorable death.”

  Robert looked him in the eyes, his gaze direct. “He murdered someone I loved, several years ago. I’ve waited a long time for this. His death should be my responsibility, Wil iam.”

  “Not everything is your responsibility, Captain. This man is also a danger to Charles. He has to be dealt with in any case. If you’l al ow someone else to bring him to justice, I can promise you it wil be done. A belated wedding gift, if you wil . What matters most to you, Robert? Revenge?

  Pride? Or your woman? It seems to me you have two choices—trust me to handle it with due diligence whilst you see to your lady, or take the risk of losing her and handle it yourself.”

  “You know the choice is already made.”

  “Then I have something else to tel you. His Majesty meets with your beloved within the hour.”

  “Be damned you say! Why didn’t you tel me?”

  “I have just done so, but I advise you to approach with caution lest you find yourself barking orders at drunken recruits in Tangiers.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  HOPE N ICHOLS, L ADY N EWPORT, had wandered for three days after her arrival in London, at a loss as to what to do. Her title seemed to act as a disguise. No one recognized this obscure country countess, though she drew several admiring glances from the gentlemen she passed.

  Her house in Pal Mal was occupied by a diplomat from France, and when she gave her summons to the harried chamberlain at the palace he glanced at it quickly and told her he’d fix an appointment but it might take several days.

  She took some rooms in an inn facing the park and settled down to wait. Apparently, despite the stress and upheaval it had brought to her life, her summons had been an afterthought to Charles. She had no place to cal home, no desire to speak with Charles, and the last she’d seen of her husband he’d had his sword pointed at a young boy’s chest. When His Majesty cal ed for her at last her temper was short and her ner
ves severely frayed.

  He rose to greet her the moment she entered the room, arms outstretched and a warm smile on his face. “By God, madam! How is it possible? You are more lovely than I remembered!”

  She avoided his hug, stepping in to a proper curtsey. “Your Majesty wished to see me?” She stood stiffly, refusing a proffered chair.

  “You are annoyed with me. You feel I left you in the country too long.”

  “You cal ed me from my home at the busiest time of year, then left me waiting at an inn.”

  “You never answered my letters.”

  “Because I had nothing left to say to you, Charles.”

  “Come now, sweet. I told you it was temporary. You are a lady now. I’l have a suite prepared and—”

  “I won’t be staying. I don’t have feelings for you anymore, other than the honor and respect I owe my king.”

  “I am certain I can convince you otherwise, sweet—” The door burst open and a black-clad giant strode through the door with a clutch of armed men scrambling to catch up behind him. He removed his hat and bowed low. “Your pardon, Majesty, for the late arrival. I had a spot of trouble on the road.”

  Hope felt a thril of excitement. He was troubled. He was dangerous. He was here!

  The king waved his guards away. “Captain Nichols! What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Surprise? I am confused, Your Majesty. Did you not recently summon my wife and I to court?

  Charles lips twisted in annoyance. “So I did. Though it was my understanding you might be too ill to make the journey.

  In future you must not feel obliged to come every time your wife is summoned to court. I wil be assigning her duties for my queen, and expect to see her here often.”

  “Your Majesty is most kind to concern himself with my health, but I assure you it’s not necessary. I am of a hardy nature and any afflictions that ail me are only temporary.”

  “We are most pleased to hear it. Fortuitous news, indeed.” The king put a companionable arm around Robert’s shoulders. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about a commission. You mentioned your interest before. We are growing concerned with these blasted Dutch incursions on our trade routes. Your experience and skil s could be most helpful, and present you with some very lucrative opportunities indeed.”

  At least it’s not drilling soldiers in Tangiers. “Again, I must thank you for your thoughtfulness, Majesty. You do me great honor, but surely that is a job best suited to a seaman and I regret to say I’ve no skil as a mariner, sire. I am content to have served England as a soldier, but now that I am married, I look forward to the life of a quiet country gentleman. Besides, surely a man’s place is by his wife’s side, particularly when she’s as trusting and enticing as mine is.”

  “You are growing impertinent, sir. I dare say it is not me you have served but yourself. And at my table,” the king snapped.

  “With al due respect, Majesty, my wife is not your dinner.” The chal enge echoed through the room.

  “No, I am not!” Hope was sick of it. “And I am not yours, either, Captain Nichols. I am tired of others deciding my life for me. Dismissing my concerns. Discussing me as if I were not there. Assuming their wishes must be my own without even bothering to ask. I am quite capable of managing my own life. I am no man’s slave. I am a free English woman trapped in a bargain both of you have made. Wel , gentlemen, here is some news. The only agreement I’l honor is one agreed to by me, and to the devil with you both!”

  She stormed from the room leaving both men openmouthed with surprise behind her.

  “Hope! Wait. We need to talk.” She flipped an angry hand and kept on walking.

  “We are not done here, Lady Nichols! Return at once. I have not given you permission…” Charles’s voice trailed off as she rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

  “Wel ?” The king gave Robert a sharp poke. “You crow that she is yours. Find her, Captain. And don’t think of leaving London without bringing her back.”

  But quick as that she had disappeared, and he had no idea where to look.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  HOPE WALKED DOWN THE STREET, heading toward the theater district, uncertain of everything except that she was done with Charles. She’d said the words to his face.

  Beyond annoyance, wariness and mild resentment, the sight of him had stirred no feelings at al , not even friendship. He was her king. That was al . Robert was different. The sight of him brought every nerve in her body pulsing to life. When he’d strode into the king’s chamber five days ago like some conqueror of old coming to claim what was his, her heart had skipped several beats and she’d had to remind herself to breathe. He had kept his promise after al .

  But what she’d said to both of them was true. Al her life other people had tried to manage her, direct her, mold her to their own purpose. She had been claimed and owned, bought and sold, and though her heart and spirit had remained free, it was the decisions of others that had mapped the major turnings of her life. This time she was not going to be pushed. What she wanted, what she dreamed of, was too important. It had to be her decision. There was so much more to Robert than she’d ever imagined. Layer upon layer of dark and light. He’d opened a door and she’d entered, not knowing she stepped into a whirlwind. She needed time to absorb it. She needed time to think.

  Unfortunately, deep thinking and paying attention to where she was going had never been her strong suit and as she rounded the corner she quite literal y bumped into an old friend, the redheaded, gap-toothed actress Peg Hughes.

  “Watch the bloody hel where you’re going with that aristocratic arse! You’re as blind as my granny and smel like… ’Od’s fish! Hope? Hope Mathews, is that you?” Peg gave her a hug that almost crushed her ribs, and then hauled her into the King’s Tavern for beef pies and beer.

  “Wel , ain’t you looking the fine lady now! We al wondered where you disappeared.”

  “I got married, Peg. And went to live in the country.”

  “Lost the king but gained a husband, did you? Now that’s a very nice play indeed. Keep you secure in your old age, that wil . Is he poor but young and handsome, or a rich old toad?”

  “He is rich enough and devilish handsome, Peg. Tal er than the king. As tal as Prince Rupert. The kind who makes girls swoon.”

  “Pah!” Peg spit on the floor. “What’s got into your head?

  You never marry one like that. Soon as they’ve gambled away al your money they’re out running after whores.”

  “Not my husband. The only whore he wants is me. He leaves the rest alone.” They both broke into laughter and Peg reached over to pinch her cheek. “Yep. You’re real.

  And stil making up fairy tales, you are. I swear you left the stage too soon. There’s two companies of royal players now. The kings and the dukes. They’d be glad to have you back. People wil always come to see one of Charlie’s girls.”

  “I’m done with him, Peg.”

  “But if he sent you away and now he’s brought you back it seems he’s not done with you.”

  They chatted and drank Rhenish for the rest of the afternoon. Hope hadn’t realized how lonely she was until she’d run into Peg. She missed Rose and Daisy, even Mrs.

  Overton. But most of al she missed the man whose touch sent shivers to every part of her body, whose warm voice soothed and excited at the same time. Who told her stories when she was hurting and taught her how to use a sword.

  Their last night together, before he’d left for Yorkshire, had introduced her to pleasures her body stil ached for and—

  “Hope?” Peg banged the table with her mug until she was sure she had her attention. “There you are, back again. You certainly can’t hold your liquor like your mum.” Peg fil ed her in on al the London gossip. Most of it centered on the usual protagonists—the king, his friends and now his little queen.

  Bored, her thoughts drifted back to Robert. Did you leave a man like that, knowing that you loved him? Did you stay, knowing the dar
k thing that claimed him? Knowing how dangerous it was? Knowing it might always mean more to him than you? But he came! He kept his promise.

  “Now the talk from everyone is that she’s barren,” Peg continued with breathless excitement.

  continued with breathless excitement.

  “But she’s only been married five months!” Hope protested.

  They talked a while longer and Peg invited her to come to the Duke’s Theater, where she was performing that night. It would be a chance to make connections and renew old acquaintances, but she was lonely for something else this night. Peg gave her a hug and promised to visit soon, and then took the boat that traveled along the river to the new spring gardens in Vauxhal . It would be closed for the season by the end of the week, and she needed to feel as though she were back in the country this night.

  The boat bumped gently to a halt by the river gate. There was laughter and gaiety beyond the stairs, and the gentle swel of music. She entered into an enchanted world of shopkeepers, courtiers and families with their children.

  They jostled in an excited mix, dancing and flirting, listening to harpists and fiddlers, enjoying cakes and powdered beef, or dining on white-draped tables. Hope smiled as she moved among them, determined to put her worries behind her and let this beautiful y crafted fantasy soften her night.

  She wandered until she discovered a quiet alcove next to a burbling fountain, and there she passed a glade fil ed with dancing and light. A thrush sang sweetly in a hidden bower with the sky above a glittering dome. Roman temples, magicians and jugglers, magical, beautiful, and she felt so very alone.

  A strong arm suddenly encircled her waist and a rough hand covered her mouth, cutting off her scream. She bit it, drawing blood as her cursing captor dragged her kicking and clawing through the bushes into a secluded grotto.

  “God’s blood, Hope! Sheath your claws and loosen your fangs. You’re worse than your bloodthirsty kitten. Where in hel have you been? I’ve been searching for you for four bloody days! I’d begun to think some harm had befal en you.”