Chelynne (25 page)

“Good, then. I’ve told the boy never to attempt to usurp what is mine, and in this I mean my ladies as well.”

They traveled down a hallway different from the one she had come through, and she was convinced one had to be a magician to get around this maze. She halted before the door he meant to open and looked at him with worry. “Your Majesty...” she started.

The king hushed her with his eyes and reached around her to open the door. Inside she saw a dressing room, with several maids and tiring women present and a few noble dames sitting to fix a curl or just relax. She had had no idea such a room had been prepared or she would have sought it out long ago. There was a slight murmur from within as the king made his presence felt. Two young women rushed to do his bidding and he spoke quietly. “Help Her Ladyship freshen herself and see that she has an escort back to the drawing room.”

She turned her grateful gaze back to him. “Thank you,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to set aright what the duke has wrought havoc on.”

“You know a woman’s very mind,” she whispered.

He bowed over her hand and she was faint as a result of his charm. “In that, madam, I’ve had a great deal of practice.”

Chelynne was not eager to go to the drawing room. She had no idea what awaited her there, but she could postpone it only so long. She was no longer frightened, for she thought herself to be well out of danger thanks to the king’s charming concern. But she was disappointed, almost heartbroken. She had nurtured a dream, to be a fine lady to an earl, to venture into the court and be a part of its elegance. Could it truly be a lie? Could it be that there was nothing here for her? No place for the young woman who had for all her life been reared to stand in royal company? What of the long years of learning poise and grace? Were they to be put to use in fighting off lusty nobles?

The drawing room was filled with gaming tables surrounded by the richly garbed ladies and gentlemen. She saw Chad straightaway but her relief faded into dread as she saw that he was talking to the king and had a very obvious scowl on his face. She approached that twosome reluctantly. Chad did not mince words. “By your leave, Your Majesty.”

Charles bowed. “I thank you for sharing your wife’s loveliness with us, my lord. I hope to see you both often.”

Chad’s scowl deepened. There was no mistaking a royal command.

They departed Whitehall swiftly. Her husband’s hand on her arm was tight and unyielding. The party they left had not begun to dwindle, and there was still much gaiety. They were going, the affair over for her all because of her foolish mistake.

When they were inside the coach she could feel Chad’s cold, unrelenting stare. The ride was silent and disconcerting. Finally, after a very long quiet pause, he let out an exasperated sigh and spoke. “I cannot believe you are as naive as you pretend, Chelynne. What in God’s name were you thinking of?”

“I was left much to my own ends, my lord,” she argued proudly. “I had no idea His Grace’s intentions were so dishonorable.”

“Good Christ,” he muttered. “Were you sold into this marriage without any education? Do you know nothing of men?”

“And how would I know?” she asked.

“I thought you were at least schooled in the facts of life! Could you not see what the duke intended? Had you not heard something of this man you so willingly left the room with? He is a rake, madam, in the best situations. I doubt he would have been repentant had he raped you!”

“I know nothing of him,” she said softly. “Only that he is the king’s bastard.”

“Fortunately you achieved some very influential protection on your first visit to Whitehall. Imagine being dragged out of a lovers’ tryst by the king himself. I wonder that he didn’t try to take Monmouth’s place!”

Her eyes shot up to his face, though she could not see him clearly. He sat opposite her and his anger was heavy in the air. It seemed unfair to her, that he should blame her so totally when he never offered protection or advice. How could it be entirely her fault? How could she be expected to guess a thing like that?

“You might’ve warned me, my lord,” she whispered.

“Chelynne, for Christ’s sake, I’ve more important matters on my mind than raising a little girl into womanhood! As it stands it appears I’ll be kept quite busy beating the men out from under your skirts.” He laughed a harsh and bitter laugh. “It’s going to be mighty hard if you insist on lifting your hem to them!”

“My lord! I promise you it was never my intention to play such a game with His Grace! I simply didn’t—”

“How can you not know something as painfully simple as that? What did you suppose is the most attractive thing about a woman? Her stitchery? Don’t you have any idea what a man wants when he invites a woman into a dark room away from other eyes?”

She looked into the blackness across from her and said very softly, “I repeat, sir: how would I know?”

Chad’s anger mounted. He wanted to shake her. This pretense of innocence and chastity was his undoing. Her young firm breasts were constantly billowing out of her gowns, her tiny waist turning and aiding the delicious swing of her hips, her moist lips always parted as if eager to be kissed. How could any woman possess such an aura of sensuality and be totally unaware of it? It simply couldn’t be. It was impossible for her not to know how she appealed to a man.

“Chelynne, I’m warning you, I don’t want to be bothered with a lot of nonsense over the way my wife displays herself in public. If you’ve a notion to play lovers’ games then do so discreetly. I am not anxious to be dueling over your precious little rump. You will learn to take better care of your virtue or let it fall where it may!”

Chelynne raged inside. “You’ve a mighty gallant way of seeing to your wife, my lord. For a man who can’t even be bothered with the smallest niceties in his own home you surely do embarrass easily!”

“What happens in my home is no one’s business but mine!” he shouted. “And it has nothing whatever to do with the way you behave in public. You are the countess of Bryant and should conduct yourself in a manner that befits your title. Do not test my patience any further!”

“Your patience! You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word! Who sits and patiently waits—”

He leaned over to her and caught her in a powerful grip, his hands biting into the flesh of her arms. “Chelynne,” he said sternly. “Whether or not you are entirely pleased with your circumstance is of no matter to me. If you insist on swinging your delightful little backside into trouble I will not stand and bear the humiliation of your actions. Don’t be looking for me to give gallant defense of your ill-planned adventures. Is that clear?”

She nodded piteously and he released her. She sat back, slow tears streaking down her cheeks. Finally little sobs came from her side of the coach. Chad tried not to hear it. He looked away and sought to pretend himself alone but a vision of her fighting for her virtue at the hands of the lusty young duke crept into his mind.

The fact that the king thought ill of him for leaving his young wife unescorted on her first visit to the palace did not lessen his chagrin. He would have thought her sensible enough to stay out of mischief for that short time at least. His anger began to fade away under the onslaught of her persistent weeping. There she sat, dejected and afraid, simply ignorant of the ways of the court, and he knew it. Of course then he was more the beast for not taking closer care to educate her. With a frustrated sigh he transferred himself to her side of the coach and took her into his arms.

“Chelynne, calm yourself. I realize I was harsh and you’re not completely at fault. Come now, you’ll spoil your pretty face.”

She sniffed away her tears and looked up at him with that vulnerable innocence while not far below those tempting round breasts rose up from her tight bodice. God, what a package this was.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, my lord.”

“It was a sorry way to learn, but perhaps you’ll take greater care next time someone offers you a pleasant stroll.” She bobbed her head obediently and brushed the wetness from her cheeks.

“I was mighty scared,” she admitted with a sniff.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said with a faint chuckle in his voice.

“Truly...I didn’t know...”

“Chelynne, don’t you know that you’re lovely? Desirable? I imagine that there are plenty of men at court who would love to have a taste. Do you think they will care that you’re a little reluctant?”

She shrugged her shoulders, innocent. Always pure and chaste. Chad groaned. His arm slipped around her waist and with a finger he lifted her chin so their eyes would meet. “Take greater care, sweet. The wolves love fresh game.”

Those wide brown eyes full of confusion stared at him blankly. All his wrath disappeared. She was a child, an infant in this world. He held her head against his chest, wishing that he could protect her from it all and knowing he could not. There was simply no way to conceal all the cruel realities she would find here, no way to shield her from them. He could only hope that she could sift out the more censorable portion of her upcoming education and hold onto some of that moral conviction, some of that goodness and innocence that was all of her now.

“Come love, we’re home.” He helped her out of the coach and took her to her rooms. Stella had been waiting by the fire for Chelynne’s return and jumped to her feet to help her disrobe. But Chad lingered for a moment, thinking of all the things he should say to her. He should have a little talk with her, tell her candidly what actually went on at court, what those elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen did with their leisure time, with almost all of their time. Not finding the right way to begin he helped her out of her cloak and handed it to Stella. And there he was, faced with the young fresh beauty of her again. Unaffected and ravishing. He drew her into his arms and kissed her brow.

Instinctively her arms went to his chest and moved around his neck to draw his lips down to hers. This was as much as she had ever dared. He moved over her mouth tenderly, and her lips parted for him deliciously. Her small body molded to his and neither of them noticed Stella blanch and retreat into the shadows. Chad battled need against good sense. His mind called out a warning again, a familiar one. No attachments now. No bonds, no commitments. The pain grew and grew and he ached with longing. He needed something he didn’t want, couldn’t have. He had had years of needing, wanting, and he had learned to curb that desire. It hurt so violently to become dependent on another for love, for ease. He pulled away from her. He didn’t want her. She was thrust on him and he didn’t want her.

Chelynne puzzled at his change of mood. She looked up at him searchingly and he thought that if he didn’t get a reprieve from that blind devotion and trust in her eyes he would die. He placed another light peck on her brow and quickly left the room.

Disappointment was one thing, but this little encouragement was enough to bolster her. She had dared much in brazenly offering herself as she had, but she had felt his need and desire. It couldn’t have been her imagination. He wanted her. He lectured her angrily against tempting men. That must mean that he found her tempting, since she had never tried to do so.

She let Stella brush out her hair but she wouldn’t be undressed. She waited some moments, and thinking enough time had lapsed, she took the diamond necklace as her excuse to go to her husband’s bedroom. Perhaps if they talked for a few minutes and if she saw the opportunity she could be close to him again. He could not brush her aside forever.

She heard voices in his room and assumed that it must be his manservant he spoke to. She tapped lightly on the door and Bestel admitted her. Surprise stunned her for a moment, for Chad had changed clothes. He was not dressed gaily now but done up in poor attire and devoid of his wig. He stood quietly, waiting for her to speak, and she realized that she had scrutinized him carefully, remaining silent for too long. “The jewels, I...ah, thought you wanted to keep them.”

“Of course,” he said brusquely. “Thank you.”

She started to leave and then turned back to him impulsively.

“Are you going out?”

He nodded curtly. “I have some business.”

“At this hour?”

“It’s not uncommon. I’m meeting merchants in the Gold Frog on

Prior Street

. That is the reason for this fashion. It’s a poor place and one nobles do not frequent.”

Her mouth formed a silent “oh” though she didn’t understand at all. She lingered for a moment and seeing that he was anxious to leave, she went back to her room. How often did he leave in the night without her knowing? Why would a man do business at this hour? What kind of business?

The thought struck her with sudden clarity. He was going to see a woman. She was as sure of it as she was of her own name. He wasn’t pretending desire; it was real enough, but not for her. Who then? Gwen? She had to know. As if her life depended on it, she had to know who he loved and wanted.

Chad was not in good humor when he entered the Gold Frog. He was angry, impatient and curious. He didn’t ponder his young wife much now. More he wondered what John could have called him here for. That other problem, his long-starved desires, he meant to take care of later, routinely.

He had not been in the tavern long when John found him and then went to an out-of-the-way table. The decent places had private rooms, but their business was not for such places, where other acquaintances might linger. This was a particularly scurvy ordinary stocked with unscrupulous patrons. Neither Chad nor John was dressed to look the part of those with incomes, and they confined their conversation to hushed tones within the packed hall.