The King's Sister

‘Perhaps I was mistaken.’ He inclined his head graciously. ‘You had been tossed into an impossible situation.’

‘From which you rescued me,’ I said, eyes cast once more demurely down to my wine cup, anticipation rife, sensing that this man was at his most dangerous when smoothly compliant.

‘Despite your reluctance to be rescued.’ An innocuous reply.

‘I must thank you for your forbearance if I seemed less than amenable.’

‘I have to say, Madam Elizabeth,’ he responded promptly, ‘that it is not only your appearance that has undergone a transformation. Today your tongue is touched with honey.’

I knew my eyes sparkled. I would not rise to that bait, like a salmon snatching at a mayfly, only to be dragged to land by an enterprising fisherman. Instead I cast my own bait on the choppy waters.

What an enjoyable conversation this was becoming.

‘I am astonished,’ I observed, ‘that Richard agreed to receive you at court, Sir John, if what I hear is true.’

With alacrity the bait was snapped up. Would nothing disconcert him? ‘Admirable! You have reverted to your acerbic mood, I note. And at my expense. Take care, Madam Elizabeth. Would you do battle with me?’

‘Yes, when you avoid my question.’

‘You did not ask a question. You made an observation. Which is patently untrue. My brother is always pleased to have me close.’

‘Even with the recent scandal? Causing waves to unsettle the whole family?’

‘I see no waves.’ Straightening, he swept a wide gesture to encompass the chattering throng. Indeed there were none, everyone present intent on nothing but enjoyment, but I pursued my quarry, since he was proving to be a willing combatant.

‘My father the Duke was most displeased.’

‘Are you sure, Countess? The Duke has been nothing but grateful for my recent services in his expedition to besiege St Malo. Even if it was destined to failure.’

A fast lunge and parry. A rapid cut and thrust. How exhilarating it was to talk with a man in this fashion. Would I ever have such conversation with Jonty? I knew that I never would.

‘As for waves …’ I mused. ‘Perhaps they are only invisible because the lady in question is not here to stir them into life.’ I too looked around the vast chamber, feigning astonished interest at the absence of the woman in question. ‘But I expect she will announce herself very soon, and then we will see …’

‘Do you spend all your days listening to gossip?’ he interrupted, those dark eyes wide with innocence, unless one looked too closely and was tempted to fall into their depths. Quickly I looked away, taking another sip of wine.

‘Yes. What else is there for me to do? I fear your reputation has sunk you in the mire, Sir John.’

‘You shouldn’t believe all you hear, Madam Elizabeth.’

‘Is it not true, then? The court has been awash with it.’

‘I’ll not tell you.’

‘I see.’ I looked at him through my lashes as once more I took a sip of wine. ‘Are you already suffering remorse, perhaps? Intending to confess your sins and mend your ways?’ I leaned a little towards him. ‘You can tell me, you know. I can be most discreet.’

‘When is a young woman ever discreet? And I don’t believe I’ve ever suffered a moment’s remorse in all my life.’ He laughed again, a rich attractive sound that drew eyes. ‘I’ll not tell you my thoughts, because you’re too young for such salacious gossip.’

‘What would I not know? I am nineteen years old. And wed.’

‘To a husband who does not share your bed. Thus making you a charmingly innocent virgin wife. And,’ he added, with no warning at all, ‘I would like nothing better than to rob you of that innocence.’

Which effectively silenced me. Even more when, before I could prevent it, he had snatched up my free hand in his and raised it to press his lips to my fingers. This was far more outspoken, more particular, than I had expected, but had I not goaded him? I had asked for this riposte. Casting a hasty glance over our courtly companions, it was a relief to see that his attentions were unobserved, but a ripple of awareness, and not a little fear, ran over my nape as my hand was not released.

‘You must not, sir. Do you wish to make me the subject of similar gossip?’

Upon which John Holland’s smile vanished like the sun behind a particularly virulent storm cloud, and he became broodingly brisk and businesslike, defying me to follow his moods.

‘Don’t worry, Countess. I’ve not impugned your honour. It’s only a kiss between family. Your father would have my skin nailed to the flag-pole at Kenilworth if he thought I had shown you any disrespect, and I can’t afford to antagonise Lancaster, can I? I’m in receipt of his livery. It was my mistake to single you out in such a manner. As for you, Cousin, if you are going to wield a weapon, you must do so against someone of your own weight. Otherwise you will be wounded.’

Although my face was afire, I could not prevent an arch response. ‘I am no cousin of yours. There is no blood connection.’

‘So you are not, Lady of Pembroke, but near enough. Accept this as a cousinly salute.’

And there was pressure of his mouth on my knuckles again, trivial enough but startling by the implied intimacy so that I stiffened, and he must have caught a sense of it.

‘What is it? Have I seriously unsettled you? I had thought you to be more worldly wise, mistress. I was wrong. You must forgive me.’

The timbre of his voice was suddenly dry enough to warn me that he had abandoned his previous trifling, and lurking at the edge of his disclaimer was the undoubted provocation. You can trust me or not, as you wish. I don’t care. Nor did he, but I would not allow him to discomfit me. I recovered fast to display condescension when he half rose to leave. I did not want him to go. Not yet, and assuredly not on his terms where he had presumed me to be naïve.

‘I am not wounded. Did you think you drew blood?’ I asked, tugging my hand free but replying with a show of serenity as I spread my arms wide. ‘See. I am unharmed. The Earl of Pembroke does not share my bed until he is of age. It is no secret. And it is not in your power to rob me of my innocence.’

Settling back on the stool, he perused me, much like a well-fed hawk would watch a mouse in the long grass, undecided whether to make the effort to pounce or abandon it for more worthy prey. Something in my expression, or perhaps in my picking up on his outrageous threat, made him observe: ‘I doubt the situation satisfies you, whatever you say. How old is he?’

‘Jonty has reached his tenth year.’

He lifted a shoulder in a little shrug. ‘So you have decided to wait to enjoy the pleasures of the bedchamber under the auspices of holy matrimony …’

This unnerved me all over again but I was improving in smart retaliation. ‘Of course I will wait. I make no complaint. Now you it seems do not need a wife at all. Unless it’s someone else’s.’

‘I see you have not been imbued with politesse, Madam Elizabeth.’

‘My social graces are excellent, Sir John.’

‘You have wit and charm, certainly.’

To my satisfaction, he had begun to smile again. ‘Is that all, Sir John?’

‘Are you perhaps fishing for compliments, Madam Elizabeth?’

‘No, indeed. I have no need to do so. I receive many compliments.’

‘I expect you do. How could you not with your illustrious parentage? Some of us are not so fortunate, and must work harder for it …’ His mouth acquired a derisive twist, even a hint of temper, that caught my interest. Then, with smooth transition, so that I might have thought I imagined the whole: ‘Do you stay at court long, madam?’

A superlatively rapid volte face. So he had no wish to stir the mud in that particular pond of his troubled parentage, but he had given me an insight I had not expected. I let it go for now, and followed his direction into calmer waters.

‘Yes. That is, I hope so. And what of you?’

‘My plans are fluid.’