The King's Courtesan Page 14

  The door to the little room was half-open. She was perched on the window seat, gazing outside. She was simply dressed and wearing an apron, and there was a streak of soot smudging her cheek. A snow-white kitten sat in her lap, pawing at a bit of lace trailing from her sleeve. She patted it absently as she watched out the window, looking for al the world like a lost little waif. He was arrested by the scene. Moved in a way he hadn’t expected, as forceful y as if he’d been punched in the gut. In the past he had wondered what she was, but for the first time he wondered who she was.

  The kitten saw him first. It arched its back and hissed. Hope looked up, startled, her face white with surprise. He col ected himself quickly. “What is that thing doing in here?

  Cats are for vermin, not for pets. It should be in the kitchen or outside. There are…there are many valuables in this room.”

  “She’s only a kitten, Captain. And she’s very wel -behaved.” There was a note of pleading in her voice.

  “We are not at the palace now, where every idiot has a dog or monkey or other smal pet stuck in a muff or sleeve.

  Send it to the barn where it can make itself useful. You may have had your way with your lover, but… Oh, bloody hel !

  Stop that!”

  She tried to, but she’d been under a strain for days. Her eyes wel ed with tears though she fought to keep them back. She’d poured al her affection into the kitten and it tore at her heart that she was helpless to stop him taking it away.

  “Stop it at once, Hope. You’l find I don’t respond wel to such tricks.” The kitten jumped from the seat and ambled across the floor to rub against his boots, then pounced on the toes, its tiny little claws digging into the leather.

  Hope stiffened in fear. “Please, Captain, I beg you. She meant no harm.”

  Robert reached down and pinched its nape, plucking it off his boot. It squirmed in his hand and scratched him, and his face twisted in displeasure. “Real y? Your bloody little savage meant no harm? And you cal this wel -behaved?

  One can only wonder what havoc she’l wreak when grown.” He plunked it back down on the window seat beside her.

  “Here. Take your Fluffy or Princess or whatever you’ve decided to name it, and keep her out from underfoot. See that it doesn’t cause a bother. No climbing curtains or scratching furniture, or out to the barns she goes.”

  “I can keep her?”

  He sighed as he settled into an armchair, taking note of what she’d done with the room as he stretched out his booted feet. It shone with a luster he didn’t remember and he was more comfortable than he’d expected. “This is your home, too. Teach it some manners.”

  “Her name is Daisy.”

  He nodded. “White hair, those colored eyes. Natural y she’s named for a flower.”

  Hope wasn’t sure if he was making an effort at conversation or was simply being sarcastic. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I had a kitten very much like her when I was a child.”

  “Was it il -behaved, too?”

  She was about to make a defensive retort when she caught the slight smile playing about his lips. “Yes,” she said with a grin. “I’m afraid she was. I wil find a way to replace your boots.”

  “There’s no need. My boots have withstood far worse than the fangs and claws of a rampaging kitten. Hope, has no one told you that I prefer this part of the house to remain unused?”

  “You haven’t told me. And the servants don’t speak to me except for Rose.”

  “Ah, yes. As you told me your first day here. I have to remedy that.”

  “Why don’t you use this room? It’s a wonderful space fil ed with marvelous things and has a beautiful garden out back.”

  “It was my curiosity cabinet when I was a boy.” He gave her a grim smile. “I suppose you might say I’ve lost my curiosity since then, and I general y prefer not to revisit my youth.”

  “May I use it, though? I’l take good care of it and be very careful.”

  He chuckled. The chit could read his thoughts. “I can see how you value it. It looks better than I remember. But you’l need the fireplace working, a servant’s bel , and a supply of liquor to real y do it justice.”

  “I tried to poke around the fireplace and clean it out, but it’s a bit too complicated for me.”

  That explained the soot-stained face. “You should leave that work to the servants. Oakes can tel you who’s best for the job.”

  There was an awkward silence between them, but it was the first civil conversation they’d had since the afternoon in Nottingham. Hope didn’t want it to end, and she didn’t want him to leave. When he exerted himself to be pleasant she found him likable indeed. She struggled for a topic of conversation. “In the drawing room…”

  “Yes?”

  “There are two portraits. Are they your mother and father?”

  “Yes.”

  “And where are they now?”

  “I have no idea. In heaven one hopes, should there be such a place. They died several years ago while visiting London, during an outbreak of the plague.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

  “As I said, it was many years ago.”

  “And in this room. There are two miniatures.”

  “My sister, Caroline, yes. She is dead, too. If it pleases you, I have no wish to discuss it. There are other matters, though, that—”

  He stopped in surprise as the housekeeper barged into the room. “Ah! I see you have found her, my lord. I tried to tel her about keeping that creature but she would not listen, and—”

  “Mrs. Overton, you have forgotten to knock. My wife and I are speaking. In future please remember that you are the servant here and she is the mistress. It is not her place to listen to you, it is yours to listen to her. When it comes to the household, you shal take Lady Newport’s word as mine.

  You wil see this is understood by al members of the staff.

  Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes. Yes, my lord, my lady.” Red-faced and stammering, Mrs. Overton curtsied to them both and hurried from the room.

  “Wel ! There’s that taken care of.”

  Hope found herself wincing in unexpected sympathy. “Oh, dear. Perhaps that was just a little bit harsh.”

  “Was it, damn it? I have no clue when it comes to these matters. One never has to worry about such things with soldiers. I swear I never saw a one of them run away in tears. Now…in fairness to Mrs. Overton, I have to ask, did ever you threaten to punch her?”

  Hope gave him her best wide-eyed innocent look. “I most certainly did not!”

  “How curious. Why would she say such a thing?”

  “Perhaps she can’t hold her drink. My mother was much the same.”

  “Perhaps. Are you certain you said nothing to her?” She shrugged, and then kissed her kitten’s pretty head.

  “She did accuse me of being Hope Mathews. Al I did was agree, and promise her that some of the stories she’d heard, like the one about Orange Mol , were true.”

  “She accused you of being Hope Mathews?”

  “Yes. An evil courtesan bent on no good and the like. I told her I was your wife, but she refused to believe it. I daresay she meant to protect you from my wicked influence and—” She turned crimson as she realized what she was saying.

  “Ahem…” He cleared his throat. “Yes, wel …I am sorry. That was my fault. I should have made it clear you were to be respected and obeyed from the beginning. I should have listened when you said there was a problem. I hope that it is rectified now. What did you do to Orange Mol ?”

  “I knocked her flat,” she said with a wicked grin.

  His rich laughter echoed through the hal s of Cressly for the first time in years.

  “You’re an evil wench, Hope Nichols,” he said when he had caught his breath. The picture of his tiny guest flooring the fearsome Mrs. Overton with one punch left him with a rueful grin. He didn’t doubt she could do it. It was another thing to add to the growing list
of images that crowded his brain whenever she came to mind. “As punishment, I leave the entire mess in your hands. If you insist on upsetting my household, the responsibility to deal with it shal be yours. I expect this wil mean that these foolish dramas wil no longer wash up at my door.”

  “And what of outdoors? Who do I speak to about the gardens and such?”

  “Oakes, I suppose, but that shouldn’t concern you.” He shifted uncomfortably, and put thoughts of the bil iards room firmly away.

  “Perhaps he can tel me who might repair the fountain in the hidden garden. And there’s so much work that needs to be done outside.”

  “No! I don’t want you tearing up the gardens.”

  “I don’t want to tear them up. Just weeding and trimming and tidying and such.”

  “There are gardeners for that.”

  “It hardly seems so. It should be a cheerful place yet it’s sad and neglected.”

  “And what do you know about gardens?”

  “I had many a talk with John, Mr. Rose. He is the king’s gardener, and a botanist of great renown. He is trying to grow pineapples, you know. Have you ever tasted—”

  “Leave the gardens alone. If you grow bored there are other things you can do. The library is there anytime you want it, and you can use the stables, as wel . If you wish you can take a carriage to Nottingham for shopping.”

  “What? I can shop?”

  “Yes. It’s hardly what you’re used to and the roads are rutted, but if you wish to shop then by al means do so. You wil wait until Oakes has returned and take a complement of armed men with you, though.”

  “You’l not accompany me?”

  Was that a hint of wistfulness in her voice? “I’m sorry, no.

  There are important matters I must take care of in London. I wil leave by week’s end, and expect to be gone a fortnight or so.”

  She felt a keen sense of disappointment. Just when she was warming to him he was leaving. She remembered their brief truce in Nottingham, and how his smiles and charm had heated her blood. I want to know this man. I want to know him as a lover, and I want to know him as a friend.

  “I… What should I shop for?”

  “I’d never thought to hear a woman ask that!” He pul ed a velvet pouch from under his shirt. “When your carriage came from London it came with this. Here are twenty gold sovereigns. They belong to you. Along with another two thousand pounds in a locked box in my study. When I leave I wil entrust you with a key.”

  “It’s—”

  “Your savings. Yes. Do what you wil with it, but don’t spend it on the house. That’s money that rightful y belongs to you.

  His Majesty gave us ten thousand pounds when we married. If you want to decorate and claim the place, or if you see a need, use that. Simply put it on my account.”

  “You would trust me with it?” So that is what Charles saw as my worth. More than any whore, but less than Castlemaine’s necklace. She felt a twinge of annoyance, but it didn’t sting as it might have before.

  “You supervised a large town house and staff in Pal Mal .

  Overal it seemed wel -managed and tasteful. I’m sure you know more about such things than me. You don’t have to, Hope.”

  “No! I do! I wil . You may rely on it.”

  It pleases me to see her smile. “Good. I have but two conditions. Leave the gardens be, and no mirrors, unless they be for your own room.”

  “No mirrors?”

  “Having seen your home, it’s clear you can’t be trusted in that regard.”

  “But mirrors add light and warmth to a house, Captain Nichols, which is something your home badly needs. They bring—”

  “Cal me Robert. Mirror upon mirror encircling a man simply makes him dizzy and il . When first I met you I was certain I was going to spew.”

  “That was why you looked so annoyed? I thought you were glaring at me!”

  “No, elf. Despite what you might think of me, I am not in the habit of grimacing at beautiful women. At least not on purpose.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “The hour grows late and I’ve stil much to do. Wil you join me later for supper?”

  “I look forward to it,” she said with a bril iant smile.

  “Robert?”

  “Yes?”

  His body was almost touching her. She could feel it like a warm caress.

  “I…” What to say? That she was sorry for seducing him?

  She wasn’t. Al she could think of was doing it again. “I’ve blamed you for things that weren’t your fault and I regret it. I said some things the other night, but despite our differences, I know they aren’t true. You are an honorable man, or at least you have been so with me.” He gave her a deep bow. “I have done the same, madam, to you. I thought you part of Charles’s scheme and resented you for it, as much as I resented myself for saying yes. I shal do my best to make your stay comfortable here, as I should have from the start.”

  “Thank you, my lord. Perhaps, on your return from London, we might start anew. I should like us to be friends.” His smile was warm as he bent to kiss her hand. The touch of his lips sent a shiver up her spine. What would it be like to make sweet love with this man? With no anger or hurt or reason beyond wanting. What would it be like to love someone who cared?

  “I promise you I should like that, too, though I think it best we are careful, given the circumstances, to avoid a repetition of what happened the other night.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  London

  ROBERT N ICHOLS’S RETURN TO L ONDON was a good deal more circumspect then his last visit had been.

  He wore nondescript clothing and kept the brim of his hat pul ed low over his eyes. It wasn’t easy hiding his height, but seated men al looked the same when hunched over a table. He had arrived in the city just in time to watch the new queen’s procession from Hampton Court to Whitehal .

  Gliding down the Thames on a gilded barge surrounded by a grand flotil a, she and her train of black-clad monks and stern-faced ladies looked like a flock of starlings let loose amidst the peacocks.

  He had felt a stab of pity. Confessors and duennas and somber dress would only bring her ridicule here. Even as he had watched, a smiling Lady Castlemaine stood among the king’s friends and retainers, draped in more jewels than the queen and the Duchess of York together. He wondered what Hope would have thought to see it al . She wouldn’t gloat like Castlemaine. She’d be more inclined to sympathy. His musings reminded him that she, too, belonged to the king. They say he feels no jealousy, but I do. I should never have allowed the other night to happen.

  Any man would want her, but I didn’t expect to like her so much.

  In truth their talk had gone much better than he’d anticipated. She real y didn’t seem that hard to please.

  Common courtesy, a little respect, her Irish maid and a kitten. It was a smal enough price to see her smile. When she smiled everything lit up, even her surroundings. Her face glowed, her eyes shone with excitement and she awakened things inside him he’d long thought dead. I wish I could have stayed to take her back to Nottingham.

  He’d certainly enjoyed their first visit…for the most part.

  Watching her spinning glass, her thril at the tales surrounding the city and Sherwood Forest… He’d never real y understood how their argument had begun. Somehow he’d offended her, and she’d offended him.

  “I will tell you how many men I have fucked if you tell me how many you have killed.”

  Ah, yes. There was that. Three, she’d said. It was shocking only for its moderation. But she’d be shocked if she knew his answer, or what he did in London now, sitting in a secluded alcove in this Russel Street coffee house with its stink of tobacco and frantic bustle of overstimulated fools, waiting for Wil iam de Veres.

  Robert disliked asking help from any man, particularly regarding a matter of personal honor, but it was a necessary evil. This wasn’t only about vengeance or redemption. For the first time in a long time there was something to
protect. Harris was dangerous, and he had disappeared. So…highwayman, spy, whatever de Veres’s previous hobbies, hopeful y he had something of note to impart, because after two fruitless weeks, al Robert wanted was to be done with his business and go home.

  A buzz of excited conversation drew his attention. He laid down his drink and looked to the entrance as a tal , elegant-looking gentleman strode through the door. De Veres doffed a rakish feathered hat and bowed to the room, exchanging a few sal ies and nodding politely to a beefy mutton-chopped gentleman who stood near the door.

  Robert recognized him as Joshua Greathead, a country squire who had fought in the civil war under Cromwel and had also led a company of his own. He wondered what acquaintance he might have with de Veres, as the king’s favorite poet sauntered over to join him in the corner.

  “Good evening, Lord Newport.” The poet rested his booted feet upon the table and folded his hands across his lap.

  “My, what a great big sword you’ve got. It’s hard to believe the lovely Drury Lane angel could have tired of you so soon after seeing that. Or won’t you let her touch it?”

  “Cal me Captain Nichols…or Robert if you must. One hopes you’re not as foppish as you look. My enemies fight with swords, de Veres, not words.”

  Wil iam grinned in appreciation.

  “‘On men disarmed how can one gal ant prove? And I was long ago disarmed by love.’”

  “For God’s sake, man. Must you speak in rhyme? It grows damned annoying.”

  “My apologies, Captain, if my flights of fancy tax your brain.” He spoke the words slowly, enunciating clearly.

  “You sent me a message to meet you here, Lord Rivers.

  Why?”

  “You made enquiries about Lord Harris. Why?” Robert leaned back in his chair, drawing lazy circles on the battered tabletop, and didn’t answer.

  “Perhaps Lizzy is right and I may grow to like you. You could certainly use some friends. You have many enemies, Captain. It’s very hard to fathom given your gentle nature.

  Fortunately for you, I am adept with both pen and sword. I know you dislike me, but I do love Lizzy, and I did so long before you ever knew her. If I endangered her it was by accident, and I cannot regret it, for it brought us together again. But you had a part to play. You kept her safe and cared for her. I know you did it for her and not for me, but I am indebted to you nonetheless. I sent you a message because I thought you should know that Lord Harris has been making enquiries about you.” Robert’s hand stil ed, and he lifted his head to look Wil iam straight in the eyes. “That’s interesting.”