by Diana Rubino
"They are modest..." he murmured, running his fingertips over her throat and down to the neckline of her bodice, "...and priggish..." causing her to shiver under the tortuously delicate touch.
"It will all work out, I promise," he was whispering into her ear, nibbling at it lightly as his hands began unlacing her bodice. "You have nothing to fear, I shall always look after you."
And oh, how she wanted to believe him. She felt her knees buckle under her and he swept her into his arms. She wanted no harm to come to any of them; she knew full well that the slightest disagreement between Valentine and Richard would mean destruction for them all. They had too many enemies. How she hoped the delicate balance could be upheld. The entire kingdom depended on it.
"My love, I want to give you a life fit for a queen." He sighed and looked about for a split second, then turned into the nearest room, which happened to be the solar. He placed her in the cushioned window-seat overlooking the garden, the sun's last rays caressing the petals and darkening the green leaves and silver birch, casting gold and orange tones on the walls. His hair had darkened with the fading light but shone like the rippling wavelets of the river beyond them.
"No more talk of politics tonight, just talk of love," he whispered, untying her skirts and letting them slip to the floor.
She was searching his lips with hers, her hands nimbly exploring the thick locks of his hair, the taut muscles of his arms and the long, rangy body that made her pulses leap with excitement.
He responded immediately, lowering his body onto hers and returning the kiss with the same trembling emotion, his gently parted lips smothering hers, his body bursting to conquer hers once again.
With the setting sun casting a golden tincture upon their bodies, they came together in an orgy of exploration, their passion mounting with each intoxicating touch. An array of wild sensations pulsated through her at his light, too light touch that left her straining against him for more.
He deliberately held back, her heart pounding, her eyes half shut to the misty haze around her as the soft breeze played a docile dance upon her flesh. He'd removed her clothes so swiftly she didn't realize she was naked until those now familiar pangs of desire caused her pulses to throb. She caressed him and felt him harden under his hose, opening her eyes to gaze downward at the hose hugging his bulges as if it would burst any second.
She tugged at the confining garments and he slipped out of them easily, threw aside his surcoat and flipped off his shirt. She shivered in the breeze and under his caresses, and he covered her body with his. He grasped her legs and wound them around his buttocks, not entering her yet, but tormenting her with prolonged, agonizingly slow strokes.
Inside she was a blazing fire that could only be doused by the effusion of his passion. She reached down, felt his demanding hardness against her and eased him into her. He submerged into her with a mounting rhythm, slowly at first, then accelerating into a pounding desperation.
Suddenly he thrust his hips forward and stopped, letting her continue and she moved against him, his hardness stationery inside her, until she burst into a consuming flame, her breath and body in time with the spasmodic pulsating of her body, as her mind soared and let her body take over.
With one final forward thrust, he released a surge of emotion that made him cry out her name again and again.
They eased to a halt, their sweat mingling, their hair plastered to their heads. His eyes bored through her as never before, penetrating her soul. All the energy had vanished into serenity, leaving nothing but two blue embers glowing with his satiated desire for her.
"‘Tis you, Dove. You're the only woman I've ever loved. Please don't ever leave me. I could never survive alone. I would let my animal instincts get the best of me. For that is what men are. Animals. Fighting, gorging, spitting animals. I need you to keep me tame." His eyes locked with hers as their bodies had just a few minutes ago in dizzying rapture.
"Making love to you keeps you tame? It turns you into more of a wild man than I can picture you on the battlefield." She smiled and let a hand dawdle on his thigh.
"You call me wild? With that bucking, writhing body beneath mine, moaning my name for half of London to hear?" He spoke between light feathery kisses on her neck.
"I was simply performing my marital duties." He laughed, flicking his tongue over her neck, gently brushing the damp tendrils out of her eyes. "No woman makes love to a man with such passion, with such intensity, and considers it a mere duty."
"I was never given any instruction in how to engage in the activity, my Lord. Not even by Bess Woodville."
"Then you simply have a natural talent for it." The next morning, before Denys was awake, Valentine received a message from Elizabeth in her Westminster sanctuary.
She was inviting them to a small fete in honor of her daughter Elizabeth's sixteenth birthday. The note stated that the child so wished to see her step-cousin and her husband.
He thought quickly and smiled at an idea that popped into his head. He woke Denys and told her about the invitation.
"I am not going," she declared, nestling back under the coverlet. "I have naught to say to Elizabeth Woodville. We said our final farewells when she sent me from court for the last time."
"Then do you mind if I go?" he asked, spreading her hair over the pillow and watching as the sun made it sparkle like a splaying of diamonds.
"What do you care about her daughter? And why do you wish to see Elizabeth Woodville, for that matter? Have you not been exposed to enough of her cruelty and deception? She wants something, Valentine. She would not invite us to a fete simply because she enjoys our company."
"Young Elizabeth is but a child; a helpless cub caught in a bear trap. ‘Twould do her the world of good to have some company. Besides, you share my sentiments exactly. But she is not the only one who wants something. I want something from the Queen, and I intend to get it." He kissed Denys' forehead and turned to leave.
"Wait!" She reached out from under the coverlet and grabbed the bottom of his tunic. "What are you planning to do, Valentine?"
"I plan to beat that old codger at her own game," he declared and strode out of the chamber.
Denys was unable to sleep after Valentine left. Her stomach was churning with fear. She knew he was headed for trouble, involving himself so closely with this power struggle for the crown.
She rang for her lady-in-waiting to bring her some breakfast and a bath. She would persuade him to go back to Yorkshire with her, but this time really try to convince him that he was much more needed by his subjects in the north than here at this treacherous court.
"Your Highness, ‘tis so good to see you." Valentine held Queen Elizabeth's claw-like hands in his and bowed before his deposed dowager Queen, plopped on cushions on the floor like an over-aged hen. "It has been such a long time. I sincerely hope we can bury any differences we may have had in the past."
"Your taking my niece off my hands has more than made up for any differences we may have had, Valentine," she replied. "And that was a long time ago. So much has happened since then." She shook her head sadly, wisps of wiry gray hair escaping her headdress and floating around her head like the stray strands of a spider's web.
Young Elizabeth then appeared and Valentine greeted her cordially. "And Lady Elizabeth, you look ravishing. My, you grow more beautiful with every birthday, and I daresay after another sixteen you will be twice as beautiful as you are now."
Queen Elizabeth's figure was indeed slender, no bumps, no curves. She was quite boyish, in fact, except for her long hair cascading down her back. Her sulky pout caused her lips to swell, the only feature Valentine found appealing as he bowed before her. He felt no physical attraction.
She put a hand to her blushing face and giggled, bowing her head, rushing over to where her mother was and, sitting on a wooden stool, spread her skirts around her.
Queen Elizabeth's other children were present as well as the few hangers-on that had stood by her in her time of t
ransition. They regarded Valentine with an air of suspicion, knowing he was such a close friend of Richard's.
After a modest meal, during which Valentine noticed young Elizabeth ogling him and giggling every time he glanced her way, Queen Elizabeth brought him to an outer chamber and, with a pathetic batting of her lashes, proceeded to open the conversation he'd anticipated.
"Valentine," she began, employing a tone he'd only heard when she was cajoling her late husband into raiding the treasury for another trunk-load of sable pelts, "The Duke of Gloucester has pledged his allegiance to my son and as you know, has set the coronation date for the twenty-third of May."
"As of now, he has, Your Highness." Valentine proceeded carefully, for he suspected what she was fishing for and was not about to divulge any details of what transpired behind council chamber doors.
"Well, our council has decided to make my son's coronation date the fourth of May."
"Your council?" Valentine was dumbfounded. There was no true council until Richard gathered one in the name of Edward V. Her council was either completely illegal or a product of her imagination.
"My son would make an extraordinary king, just as was my Golden Boy, would he not?"
"Oh, he has inherited King Edward's benevolence, his diplomatic charm and his ability to deal with people. I have seen Prince Edward among his many admirers."
"Traits which the Duke of Gloucester sorely lacks." He noticed she wasn't referring to Richard as Lord Protector; she blatantly ignored the title.
"He is Lord Protector as of now."
"Not for long. As soon as my son is crowned, that will mean naught. He will be just another soldier then."
"Richard's talents do lie more in the direction of military acumen, Your Highness." She cleared her throat, pursed her lips and bobbed her head like a bird. "With Lancastrians constantly at our heels, we need all the soldiers we can get."
"And all the generals we can get." Ignoring that, she continued: "Valentine, as queen mother, I shall be able to wield an enormous amount of power. When my son becomes king, I shall be there beside him making sure all his actions are in the best interests of the realm." In the best interests of the greedy Woodvilles, you mean, he was tempted to say, but kept quiet and let her prattle on.
By now he was bursting with curiosity over what she wanted.
"I can bestow any title upon any loyal subject I choose, with the King's permission, of course, but my Edward looks up to you and regards you as a most chivalrous knight. He always thrilled at the sight of your jousting, and your practicing at the quintain, as did all my little ones, but Edward always seemed most impressed."
"Why, that is very flattering indeed, Your Highness."
"You are enjoying your position as governor of Yorkshire, are you not?"
"Aye, Your Highness, very much. I have managed to capture the hearts of many of our subjects," he boasted, momentarily forgetting that Elizabeth's flattery was invariably a lure to a trap.
"But that is nothing compared to the titles and estates you can receive as a relative of the King."
"Relative?"
"Dove is my niece. As such, you would be a member of the Royal Family upon my son's coronation. Just think of the riches that we could bestow upon you. After all, only half the treasure is currently in my possession. We have yet to procure the other half." Aha! Her intentions were becoming clearer now, like the emergence of the sun from behind a veil of clouds. "We, as in including me, Your Highness?"
"Simply answer me one question, Valentine. What would you prefer, the position of possibly Treasurer of the Royal Chamber as a member of the Royal Family or do you wish to remain governor of Yorkshire?" Her steely eyes bored into him and he returned her stare with an intense one of his own.
He smiled outwardly to signal that her offer was indeed generous, but inside he was boiling. The nerve of her, to think he could actually be bought, that he would betray his lifelong friend to put her sniveling brat on the throne! She obviously had no idea how respected he and Richard were in the north. She'd been too busy soiréeing to venture north of Warwick.
Nevertheless, she was still the same old Elizabeth Woodville, thinking she could buy anyone she pleased, if not with her money, with someone else's. But this time it was going to come back and knock her on her arse—he was going to make sure of it.
"Let me get this straight, Your Highness. You want me to procure the other half of the royal treasure, deliver it unto you, and in return you will endow me with the title of Treasurer of the Royal Chamber?"
"Well, for now. You may even behold that handsome countenance of yours on a coin someday. Just think—your own coin—your likeness jingling inside trousers all over England."
"Why, I am flabbergasted, Your Highness. To think you would choose me for such a worthy position...right next to the King!"
"Edward's coronation will mark a new passage in our history, Valentine, a new beginning. And as such, I shall be starting my life anew. I would have my family about me in my old age, I want to bury all the painful memories and make amends with all those I have wronged, and that includes my dear niece Dove. All I ask is that you assist me in attaining that goal." Without skipping a beat, he threw out his own bargaining chip.
"Your Highness, I would be honored to serve your son when he becomes King and to be a member of the Royal Family in such an exulted capacity. But as of this point, you realize you can only offer me promises, as he is not yet on the throne. Do you think you can seal your good intentions with a favor of your own?"
"And what would that be?"
"I want Dove to know who her parents were. She is my wife, I am forever grateful that you gave her to me, and I want her to be truly happy. Something is missing from her life; I know she won't feel like a complete human being until she finds out who she really is."
"I never wanted to keep it from her, Valentine," Elizabeth replied, and he noticed for the first time that her chin sagged; her beauty was rapidly shrinking, giving way to a haggardly look. "I know not who her parents were."
"Then tell me where you got her. I want to help her, to show her how much I truly love her. And I know you can help. Then if she finds her true beginnings, I shall be happy to consider your proposal."
"So this is contingent upon her finding her family?"
"Only with accurate information from Your Highness. ‘Tis only fair."
"You won't consider it otherwise? Even though I'm practically handing you one of the highest positions at court?"
But the truth was that she didn't have a court to speak of. And if his and Richard's efforts came to fruition, she never would set foot anywhere near the court again. She had no idea how much he was privy to in his new role as Richard's top councilor.
She didn't even know he held the position. It had all happened so suddenly.
"Nay, Your Highness. I'm afraid I shan't even consider your proposal until you furnish me with some information about where you got her, or who you adopted her from." She clucked and clacked and sucked at her remaining teeth.
"I cannot tell you because I do not know myself," she finally replied, her tone defeated and laggard, as if she were under threat of the rack. She toyed with her pearls. Valentine stared her in the eye. She looked away.
"Your Highness, you do have information, and we know you do. There is no further reason for deceit and foot-dragging.
And when you've told us what we want to know, we shall let bygones be bygones and do everything in our power to secure Edward's position on the throne." Those pearls must be well-strung to withstand all that twisting, he noticed.
"You are quite the negotiator," Elizabeth admitted grudgingly.
"I am only asking that you do the decent thing, Your Highness. We are all getting too old for secrecy and lies."
"Tell that to your friend Gloucester."
"We were discussing Dove, Your Highness."
"Ah, yes, Dove. Dove, the only person in the realm with problems. Dove, who's fairly twirling the wo
rld by the culls, yet so sad because she can't find her family. Poor little thing. Why not help yourself through my trunks and see what you come up with?" she said with a wicked gleam in her eye.
"May I really? Oh, thank you! Do tell me where they are, I shall start with trunk Number One this time." Valentine bent over in a mock-sweeping bow.
She stood, raising her arm as if to hit him. "Do you not know when someone is hurling sarcasm at you, you footlicker?"
"That's Sir Foot-Licker to you now. I've moved up in the world." He stood and straightened his tabard. "Nay, those childhood antics are far behind me. I am a model governor and knight. But I shall oblige Your Highness only if Your Highness obliges me in this one thing that I ask." He began to appeal to whatever human qualities she had.
"Put yourself in the place of an adopted person. Wouldn't you want to know who'd sired you, who'd carried you, whose blood really ran through your veins and heart? Not knowing who you are is probably the worst affliction any human being can bear. It makes my heart break when Dove tells me how she feels—truly lost."
