The King's Courtesan

by Judith James

  “Robert?” She looked up at him, stunned. It was as if her thoughts had conjured him from the air.

  He growled in response, examining his injuries as best he could in the moonlight. “You’ve left me with more scars in this one night than in al my years of fighting. It stings like the very devil.”

  “Wel , you shouldn’t have snuck up and grabbed me like that!” Her body shook with shock and fear, anger and excitement, but she didn’t forget to send a quick thank-you to whomever had answered her prayer.

  They stood, awkward and silent, just inches apart, both of them chests heaving.

  “You shouldn’t have been standing on a darkened path at nighttime. It’s dangerous. Any fool walking by might mistake you for a common strumpet.”

  “Perhaps that’s why I’m here.”

  His lips twisted with annoyance. “I understand I’ve made you angry. I know I’ve disappointed you. But we’re both wel past pretending to be something we’re not.”

  “You mean brave when I’m frightened? Cold when my heart is breaking? What choice do I have? It’s my only armor.

  What do you pretend?”

  “I pretend…” He drew a deep breath. “I pretend the very same.”

  “I saw you, Robert. I saw what you can do. What could possibly frighten you?”

  “Oh, Hope, you do. I’ve been frightened from the moment I told Charles that I would marry you. I was watching you from the trees as you danced. I was so entranced I didn’t hear his approach. As soon as I said it I knew I would love you, and I feared what might happen if you real y knew me. I never wanted you to, but you kept insisting. God, Hope. I never wanted you to see me like that. I should have listened. I never should have left.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  “But you came. When I needed you, you were there.” He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and she was in his arms. He moaned and pul ed her tight against his length, plunging his hands in her hair, cupping her head and covering her face with feverish kisses.

  “I want you to love me, Robert,” she breathed against his lips.

  “I do love you, elf. I’ve been cold and alone so long it’s become a habit. And then you came into my life and warmed me like the sun but I didn’t know how to show you or tel you. Sometimes I think I dream you. You’ve brought me back to life and I can’t let you go. Charles can’t have you. No one can have you. You’re mine.”

  He sank to his knees, pul ing her down with him, kissing her bel y, her breasts, her lips and throat.

  “I imagined your coming, Robert, ever since I was a child. I could feel you when it stormed. You’re not some little girl’s fantasy. But you are my man. I wished for you tonight and here you are.”

  They fumbled at their clothing, tugging and pul ing, hungry and impatient as he pressed her to the ground. “I’ve missed you. Your feel, your taste, your hot smooth skin. It’s been over a week you’ve been missing from my bed.” His hands roamed her surface, rough and demanding, tugging at her skirts, bunching the material and rasping it across her bel y as he bent to cool the throbbing heat between her thighs with a lush wet kiss.

  She gasped and arched against him, threading her fingers through his hair, moaning in pleasure as his agile tongue swirled lazy patterns, sending throbbing waves of liquid pleasure from her heated center through limbs and muscles and skin. Every part of her wanted him. Wild thril s ran the length of her even when his fingers brushed her hair. “I want to feel you deep inside me, Robert. I want you to fil me as you fil my heart.”

  He kissed her bel y and pinched a nipple whose peak demanded attention through linen and lace and velvet bodice. She gasped and jerked against him and he tugged her clasps open, peeling back lace and linen to lash her with his tongue. She whimpered and shifted, pul ing his head closer as he bit her gently. Pressing her everywhere with hot sweet kisses, he traveled slowly up her body to claim her burning lips, dragging his mouth gently back and forth across hers as he teased her to open with his tongue.

  Her lips parted with a sigh and he stroked and tasted, his kiss an act of possession and wild caress.

  Moaning and tangled they rol ed in the grass until he straddled her, his naked skin opalescent in the silvery wash of moonlight. Her eyes were luminous like the sky above them, seeming to mirror al the mystery and magic of wild glades and soft nights.

  She reached out a hand and laid it flat on his chest, feeling the steady pulse of life beneath. “You are no dream,” she whispered. “But you bring my dreams to life.” He gathered her warmth beneath him, his rampant arousal straining hard against the juncture of her thighs. And then he entered, slow and deliberate, savoring the moment, not as conqueror or supplicant, rescuer or rescued, but as someone who, after years in the wilderness, had final y found his way home.

  She bucked against him, urging him deeper, each movement pul ing him further into a sensual, soul-searing embrace. Never had the sky blazed with such majesty. No bed had been warmer, softer, more welcoming than the grass beneath her. No birdsong had ever sounded as sweet. Never had she felt so warm and safe. She held power and life and love in her arms and the world throbbed with color and everything pulsed with life.

  Robert ground against her, his tongue thrusting with the same urgent rhythm that powered his hips. She squeezed him tight inside her as spasms of pleasure rocked her, melding with his and joining them in a blissful floating ancient bond. With a final sigh they fel back together as one, in a sated tangled heap.

  “Wel !” he said when he’d caught his breath, “We ought to do that more often. Every night, I should think, don’t you?” His voice was hopeful.

  Cuddled in his arms, she gave his ear a playful nip. “Every time is new with you. I feel things I’d never imagined before.

  You take me places, Robert that… I’ve no words to describe it.”

  “Have I redeemed myself, then?” he asked as he combed his fingers through her hair.

  “For being such a blockhead?” She could have said more but she didn’t. “Yes, you have. But I’ve yet to forgive you for giving me such a scare.”

  He held out his mangled hand for her inspection. “Look at how it’s swol en. I expect it’s al infected now. I pray I don’t lose my sword hand.”

  She gasped in horror, taking it gently, and gave it several little kisses. “We’l see a surgeon straight away. I’m sorry, Robert! I had no idea it was you.”

  He reached for his discarded coat and tucked it around her like a blanket. “I’m teasing you. I’ve survived many an injury worse than this. With the proper wifely care and attention I’m sure that I’l be fine.”

  “How on earth did you find me?”

  “It wasn’t easy. I remembered your fascination with gardens and flowers. I have been to Hyde Park, St. James Park, the gardens at Whitehal , to every damned garden I could find, asking strangers if they’d seen an elfin beauty with midnight hair and violet eyes. Did you know there are two gardens here? An old one and a new one, though this is deemed the better. I was offered blondes, brunettes, redheads of every talent and description, but no one had seen you. It’s sheer luck I found you tonight. Were you hiding?”

  “No. Yes. I needed time to think.”

  “It’s over. With Harris.”

  “You kil ed him?”

  “No. I couldn’t without harming the boy. I couldn’t after seeing you. I hated that you saw me that way and suddenly it al seemed so senseless and stupid. It wasn’t going to bring Caroline back but it might cost me you. I don’t want to live in the past, Hope. I want to have a life and future with you. My life had little meaning until you came along and I knew if I lost you it never would again.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers, then held up a tiny band of woven grass. “Hope Mathews, I’ve never been in love before. I’m likely to make lots of mistakes. I expect if you agree to stay with me you’l have to be very patient.

  Oakes knows me wel and he says I’m not very good with people. But I do try and listen and I want to
learn. So if you cannot feel free or happy with me, then I wil do my best to help you to wherever you wish to be. But you know me now, and I know you, and I would ask you first, given free heart and free wil …would you marry me?”

  Laughing through her tears she shoved him over onto his back and held out her hand. “I am exactly where I wish to be, foolish man. I want to see my ring.” He slipped it on her finger and pul ed her in to a tender kiss.

  Hope nuzzled the sensitive spot behind his ear. “What does Oakes know? A good deal less than you, I expect. He has eyes for Mrs. Overton and doesn’t even realize it. Trust me, Robert.” She folded her arms on his chest and rested her chin on her hands. “You are very, very, very good with women.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  LORD AND L ADY N ICHOLS WANDERED through a stately bedchamber crowded with books and paper, curiosities and ticking clocks.

  “So this is his room?”

  “Yes.”

  Hope blushed furiously but she needn’t have worried.

  Robert never felt intimidated or doubted his prowess in any arena when it came to other men.

  She watched as he fiddled with a telescope. His fascination with it made her smile. Perhaps she would present him with one at New Year’s. She could picture him using it on dark summer nights on the terrace. It struck her that she didn’t even know when his birthday was. There was so much about him to learn. She knew what was important, though. When she needed him, he was there.

  “Look you here, Hope!” He was standing over a mechanical automaton of otters catching fish.

  She came over and leaned against his shoulder, nodding her head, trying to look suitably impressed while wondering why such sil y toys made grown men act like boys. “Does it ever seem strange to you how we were brought together?”

  “You mean the parade?”

  “That and other things.”

  “Wel , the whole night at Pal Mal seemed strange to me, starting with your hal of mirrors.”

  “But think of it, Robert. I was hardly likely to ever go to Nottingham, or you to come backstage at the theater.”

  “Ah! I see what you say. You wonder how fate conspired to join us a second time.”

  “Exactly!”

  “Wel ,” he mused, “if one thinks of you as Cinderel a, then Charles would be your fairy godmother. He clothed you for the bal and settled you in a fine coach, though you lost both slippers.” They broke into helpless laughter.

  “His scepter is a magic wand!” she cried.

  “And Castlemaine an evil stepsister!”

  “Let’s hope he’s not annoyed and turns us both back into pumpkins.”

  “Why don’t you ask him yourselves, my dears. He is standing right behind you. I believe you mean country bumpkin, Captain.”

  Hope’s face looked almost comical in its surprise while Robert’s was merely assessing. Charles couldn’t help a grin. “Your husband is very big, Lady Nichols. One notices more when he stands behind you. Are you stil angry with me for choosing him?”

  “I have chosen him, Charles.” She held out her hand, proudly showing off her woven ring. “In the end that’s al that matters.”

  “And if I strip your handsome giant of his lands?”

  “We are a talented pair, Your Majesty.” Robert stepped in.

  “I’l stil have my sword, and my wife wil design gardens.”

  “Gardens, you say!” The king barked with laughter.

  “Charles. Cal me Charles. ’Od’s fish! Fairy godmother indeed! You’ve a sharp tongue on you, Captain Nichols.

  Come. Sit. We’l share some wine. To your health, my dears, and a very happy marriage.”

  “You’re not angry?” Hope asked.

  Charles shrugged. “I’m not known for being jealous. While some dreamed of jewels, pensions, favors, you wanted to go fishing. You wanted a possessive, glowering husband.

  You wanted to be in love. Apparently you wanted shrubbery, too. If he was man enough to fight for you, you’d have your knight in shining armor. If he wasn’t, then you’d be better off with me. I’l admit I had hopes for the latter outcome, but I’m pleased to see you happy and I’l not deny it out of spite.” NOT LONG AFTER they left, a moody Charles Stuart tossed back a glass of wine. A gloating, spiteful mistress, a weeping, homesick wife, deserted by his pretty country miss—what did her towering husband cal her? Ah, yes, elf.

  It suited her. He had promised to see her taken care of.

  She was a lady by title now, with a husband who loved her.

  It wasn’t the usual reward, but she was an unusual woman. I shall miss her. Who will I fish with? Who will I sail with?

  Who will come to the races and swig brandy and beer?

  Castlemaine he loved the most, though it was cold and cynical. His wife Catherine he owed the most, though she’d yet to conceive and half her dowry had not been paid. But it was Hope who he liked the most. Her husband is a lucky man indeed. He made note to have his gardener send her a selection of bushes and roses, and some trees for her orangery come the spring.

  One of his gentlemen came to whisper in his ear and he nodded. “Yes, by al means. Send them in.” He rose from his seat, his arms outstretched to greet them. “Wil iam!

  Elizabeth! What a pleasant surprise. Come, sit, have some tea. It is a favorite of my wife’s and I am growing fond of it myself.”

  They joined him at a table by the window. “I am indebted to you, Wil iam. For warning us of Harris. He was caught with nearly thirty other conspirators, badly wounded while trying to escape. Wil we ever see the end to these ridiculous plots? Sit, please, and tel me why you came.”

  “Charles, we have come to say goodbye. Lizzy and I are going home.”

  “No! Everyone I trust and enjoy is going home. The place is barely recognizable anymore. I need you here.”

  “We shal return to visit often, Charles. And of course you are welcome in our home anytime.”

  “Et tu, Elizabeth? After al my kindness to your latest charity?”

  She rose and came around the table to kiss him. “Thank you, Charlie. I am grateful to you once again.” The king rose, too, and kissed her back. “Do you see, de Veres? I just kissed your wife. I could take her from you anytime I want.”

  “My wife let you kiss her, much like she lets her puppy do. I find it sloppy and somewhat off-putting, but she doesn’t wish to hurt its feelings.”

  Charles grinned and chucked Elizabeth under her chin. “I need my poet. Particularly in these bitter times. Give us a poem, Wil .”

  “‘Our Romish bondage breaker Harry

  Espoused half a dozen wives;

  Charles only one resolved to marry…’”

  “Enough!” Charles said wearily. “I see where this goes.” Wil iam bowed low. “I haven’t rusticated so long in the country that I warble pretty tunes, Your Majesty. Let me go, Charles. The gaiety rings false. I can’t do it anymore, unless I am drunk. If you force me to stay I wil maul you. And I love you too wel to enjoy doing that.”

  Charles sighed. “I can see this is going to be one of those days. Go, then, if you must. Back to milking cows and planting potatoes. I’ve had enough of leave takings for one day. A black mood cal s for the theater.” THE KING SAT WITH B UCKINGHAM in his box. The curtain opened to wild applause and gasps of delight as a beautiful girl in a gold helmet with purple plumes descended from on high with golden sword and shield. She set foot on the stage in a pair of high-heeled gold boots and but for those and the shield, she was completely naked underneath. Breaking into ful -throated song she twirled around the stage revealing a pert, naked bottom.

  “George? Who is she?”

  “That, my lord, is the newest comedic actress. Her name is Eleanor Gwynn.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire

  UNDER A CANOPY of gently rustling leaves, Robert leaned against the bark of the greenwood tree, a majestic yew with widespread arms that grew in Sherwood Forest.

  Hope n
estled quiet in his arms. Wel over one thousand years old, one could almost feel the life and warmth flowing through its ancient veins. One had but to close one’s eyes to imagine a time when ordinary men and women had done extraordinary things, defying great lords and braving great odds to keep their freedom.

  What wonders had this monarch of the forest seen as it bore witness to the fleeting lives of men? It was not so much one tree as two, with roots entwined and trunks grown so close together they had, in a far distant past, melded into one. Some folk cal ed them marriage trees. Some said Robin and his Marian had been joined beneath this very one. He smiled and kissed the top of his pretty wife’s head.

  one. He smiled and kissed the top of his pretty wife’s head.

  It certainly pleased her to think so. And so they had married again, on this first day of May exactly one year from the day she had first stepped into his life, joyful y and freely, in a place of their own choosing, for themselves this time.

  Hope stirred and put a sleepy arm around his waist.

  Exhausted from the revelry, they watched contentedly as friends and servants and the Derbyshire pastor made merry in the distant courtyard. The sounds of flute, fiddle, laughter and song came to them in quiet bursts, carried by a dulcet breeze.

  “Do you remember, Hope? When you told me that if I let go of the past, I might find what I was meant to do?”

  “Mmm, yes. I remember.”

  “I have discovered it, the thing I was real y meant to do. I was meant to love you.”

  “Of course you were, sil y man. I am very wise. You should always listen.”

  He tickled her and she elbowed him and shifted, settling now with her head resting in the crook of his arm.

  “I love you, Hope Nichols, lady of the forest glades and my own sweet elf.”

  “And I love you, Captain Nichols. I am thankful every day that you stepped out of my dreams and carried me away.” Something caught her eye, a movement through the trees that drew her attention to the top of a grassy hil . She saw a beautiful young girl with sweetly rounded features and flowing gold locks, flying a brightly colored kite. The child turned to look at her with a bril iant smile, then waved her hand. The sound of happy laughter fol owed her as she disappeared over the hil .