Rose Bride (30 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Moss

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Erotica, #General, #Historical

BOOK: Rose Bride
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Sickness flared inside her and she winced, clutching her belly. Not again. Not now. She sat down again heavily, this time not pushing Kate away when her friend bent over her in sudden concern.

‘Margerie, what is the matter?’

‘Nothing. I will be well again in a moment. I am . . . I am overcome, that is all.’

‘You were never overcome in your life, Margerie Croft, you are made of sterner stuff than that,’ Kate said sharply, and took her by the shoulders, staring down into her face. ‘Tell me the truth. What ails you?’

Oh, what did it matter anymore?

She would be gone from court within a day or two, and Kate would never tell her secret abroad. She was too good a friend to betray her.

‘I am with child,’ she admitted.

Kate released her, nodding with grim satisfaction. ‘I knew it,’ she said, then sat beside her, her look suddenly stricken. ‘But oh Lord, Margerie. This is a fine muddle you are in. If you are with child, which of them is the father?’

 

Lord Munro looked across at her in open disdain. Summoned to appear before Thomas Wyatt and Lord Wolf, by order of the king himself, he had come but reluctantly. Now Wyatt had put to him that she was with child, and would he acknowledge the babe as his own bastard, and provide for its welfare once born?

‘Mistress Croft?’ he queried, his brows raised.

She felt her cheeks grow warm under that look. But indeed this summons had been Kate’s doing, not her own. She knew, and Munro knew, that it was not his child. That such a feat of parentage would be impossible. And yet neither could admit it without also disclosing their very unusual arrangement.

‘Forgive me,’ she said.

Lord Wolf, standing with arms folded and legs apart, regarded the young nobleman with a cold stare. His voice was hard. ‘I take it you do not intend to acknowledge this bastard as your own, my lord?’

‘I cannot acknowledge it,’ Munro replied, meeting his stare without flinching.

‘How so?’

‘Need you ask, Lord Wolf?’ Munro turned and glared at her, his unspoken message one of malice. He clearly believed that she was doing this on purpose, to trap him into some greater reward than the house he had already promised her. ‘I am not the only man to have frequented Mistress Croft’s bed. Therefore I cannot be sure this child is mine. If the wanton is with child, which I very much doubt.’


Lady
,’ Wolf growled with soft emphasis, his eyes on Margerie’s face. ‘Mistress Croft is a lady.’

‘And Master Greene examined her but an hour ago,’ Wyatt told Lord Munro warningly. ‘She is with child.’

Munro examined her figure, frowning. ‘There is no sign.’

‘Nonetheless.’

‘Well,’ Munro said sulkily, his jaw set hard, ‘I am still resolved not to acknowledge any child she bears. And that is an end to the matter. You must bring in her other lovers and question them too. I freely admit that I have taken this . . . this
lady
as my mistress, but I was not alone in enjoying her favours. Ask her yourself if you do not believe me.’

‘Trust me, Munro, if it can be proved there are other men, I shall question them all,’ Wyatt said smoothly, placating his young friend.

He came to Margerie and studied her face, his gaze not unfriendly, but not warm either. ‘What say you to Lord Munro’s accusation? Have you taken any other lover into your bed besides his lordship? We must know the truth, for it would put your child’s parentage in doubt.’

Margerie said nothing, her mouth tight. It had not been her idea to pretend to sleep with Lord Munro in the first place. And she understood his perfectly natural reluctance to assume responsibility for a predicament that was none of his making. But Munro did not have to incriminate others in order to avoid being saddled with a bastard that was none of his making.

A new fear crossed her mind. If Munro managed to avoid responsibility for this, would he also wriggle out of their arrangement? If she did not get the house he had promised her in exchange for her tarnished reputation, her only course of redress would be to admit in public that she had never lain with him. Only pretended to.

The thought of shaming Munro in public turned her stomach. They had come close to being friends over the months, even if he seemed to hate her now.

She could not do it.

‘I need their names, Mistress Croft,’ Wyatt pressed her. ‘After last night, I can guess at least one name myself. But you must help me if I am to help you.’

She turned to look out of the window. ‘I regret, I cannot help you, sir.’

Wyatt sighed. He came closer, lowering his voice so only she would hear. ‘An unmarried woman with child . . . You may be whipped and turned out of court for this, as others have been. You have no wealth, nor a powerful man to protect you. You would end up destitute, begging on the streets. Do not do this to yourself. Or your unborn babe.’

‘My grandfather will take me back.’

‘Are you sure of that? Would you stake your life on it?’ Wyatt met her eyes, his face sombre. ‘Master Croft is a proud old bird, from what I recall. He will not want his family name linked to another scandal because of you. Not after what happened with Lord Wolf.’

She winced, fearing he was probably right. Yet she could not relent. ‘I cannot give you a name,’ she said stubbornly. ‘Have me escorted to a cell, sir, or whatever it is you intend to do with me. I shall say nothing more.’

Wyatt stepped back, shaking his head. ‘It is out of my hands then.’

‘Thomas,’ Lord Wolf suddenly said in his hard voice, ‘if I might beg your indulgence a little longer, I crave five minutes’ speech alone with Mistress Croft.’

‘But I have nothing to say,’ she repeated, panicking. She felt forced into being rude. ‘And I do not wish to speak to you, Lord Wolf.’

But to her dismay, Thomas Wyatt paid no attention to this discourteous remark. He bowed to the nobleman, then shepherded the others out of the room, including a bemused-looking Munro.

‘Come friends, let us away.’ He turned in the doorway. ‘Lord Wolf, you have five minutes, no more. Then I must discharge my duty.’

‘Kate, do not leave me,’ Margerie exclaimed, but watched helpless as her friend grimaced, hesitating on the threshold, only to be steered from the chamber by Wyatt’s firm hand.

The door closed.

She looked at Lord Wolf in trepidation. He returned her gaze steadily, but she saw an edge of temper in his face. ‘The truth now, if you please.’

‘Truth?’

His mouth twisted. ‘You and duplicity go hand in hand, is that it?’

‘My lord?’

He stalked to the fire and stood there, holding out a damp boot to the steadily burning logs. ‘We were lovers once,’ he said. ‘That gives me some right to . . .’

‘It gives you no right whatsoever,’ she replied tightly, her hands abruptly clenching into fists. ‘My father is dead. I am not married. I belong to no man. I answer to no man. Nor lord either. I have fought for my freedoms, Lord Wolf, and I will keep them even . . . even now I am with child.’

Wolf raised his head and glanced round at her, his dark brow arched in silent query.

She remembered the brutally short cut of his thick black hair as a youth, the blue eyes that had cut so cruelly into her after their night together, that pierced her again now, determined to discover her secrets.

‘You will answer to the king, I fear.’

She let out her breath, and heard her voice tremble, giving her away. ‘As to that, I will face whatever punishment comes from His Majesty. His judgement is absolute. But you are not the king and cannot command me.’

‘Nor am I your enemy, Margerie,’ he reminded her softly. ‘But there are many at court who would happily take that part and seek to destroy you. A woman who dares to live free of the rules that bind the rest of us draws no love from those who are still prisoners. Let those of us who would be your friends shield you from this scandal, Margerie. Regardless of your desire to hate yourself, you are not without protectors.’

‘I do not hate myself!’

‘Then what drives you to act so recklessly?’

She could not answer him, her hands twisting together in anger and confusion. ‘Did you beg five minutes with me so you could berate me for my wanton behaviour, or to offer me counsel? For I desire neither and would rather await my fate alone.’

‘I do not know what game you have been playing with Munro,’ he said starkly, leaving the fire. ‘But you are not, and I would go so far as to say, have
never been
, his lordship’s mistress.’

She was shocked into silence.

His smile was grimly satisfied. ‘I thought as much. So how did it go? He paid you for saying you had lain in his bed, while in truth all you did was
lie
? Only now the trick has gone awry, for you lay with one man in earnest, and Munro will not pay for someone else’s mistake, will he?’

‘Th . . . That part was not my idea,’ she stammered.

‘Busy Kate again?’

She nodded, not quite able to meet his eyes. ‘I would have kept quiet about the child. Only Kate would not be silenced. She fears for my future without a male protector.’

He grinned. ‘She is right to do so, and I share her concern. Nor can I blame the lady, for Kate’s good intentions have saved me on more than one occasion. As you would do well to remember.’

She managed a smile. She and Kate had conspired last year to make the king lose interest in Wolf’s beautiful bride, a pact which had brought her much peace after years of fearing and loathing Lord Wolf.

‘How is Eloise? She . . . She was brought to bed with a child at Christmas, is that right?’

His smile was dry, and she knew he understood she was trying to turn his mind away from her dilemma.

‘My wife is very well, I thank you. I will remember you to her on my return to Yorkshire. And the babe is in good health too. A boy.’

‘And . . . And her younger sister, Susannah?’

She frowned, struggling to recall the gossip that had surrounded that lady’s scandalous affair with Hugh Beaufort. She had been so bound up with her own problems, she had paid little attention to the whispers. But she recalled speaking with Susannah around the time of Queen Anne’s execution, and warning her not to throw away her reputation. Much good that warning had done.

‘She too was with child, I think.’

‘And out of wedlock, yes.’ Suddenly Wolf gave a laugh of genuine amusement. ‘Though she and Hugh Beaufort were lately married. A quiet wedding, for he was only recently released from the Tower for her unlawful seduction. Since then, of course, my house has never known a moment’s quiet. For after Eloise was brought to bed, she insisted Susannah must stay for her own confinement. So now we have one screaming infant just out of the womb, another knocking at its mother’s ribs, and no talk at the dinner table except of babies and wet nurses. Small wonder Hugh asked to accompany me back to court for a sennight or two. He loves his new bride, but a husband can hear too much of such matters at table.’

Tears pricked inexplicably at her eyes. It sounded idyllic. More than that. It sounded like heaven on earth. And an impossible dream of happiness for her.

‘I am glad for you, Wolf,’ she said simply. ‘And for Eloise and her sister. I wish your family well.’

‘I thank you. But it means, you see, that I know a little more about women than when I bedded you as a callow youth,’ Wolf said bluntly, and took her hands in his, searching her face. ‘I know the look of a woman who is in love with a man. There was no passion in your eyes when you looked at Munro just now. Not even carnal knowledge.’

‘Perhaps I lie with the gentleman, but hate him.’

‘I do not think so.’ He continued steadily, ‘Yet when you watched Master Elton at his swordplay last night, you were in terror for his life.’

She closed her eyes. ‘You . . . You know, then?’

‘My dear Margerie, I have always known, and so has the world. There can be no secrets at this court. We live with our bedchamber doors wide open. And Lord Munro is no different, for all he tries to hide his private dealings with men. Some truths have a way of wriggling out, however tight they are restrained.’ His gaze dropped to her belly, his words significant, ‘As do their consequences.’

‘But he is to be married,’ she whispered, her heart hurting for the innocent-looking child she had seen with him last night.

‘Oh, I daresay they will do well together, for Alice Holsworthy has no love for a man’s touch and he no taste for women.’

She stared. ‘Do you know everything?’

‘Hardly.’ Wolf released her hands and stepped back, sighing as he looked her up and down. ‘Now, my proud lady, will you accept my arrogant male protection and advice? Or would you rather stumble about in the dark and call it freedom from tyranny? For if you do, I must warn you that you risk losing everything you have worked for since returning to court. This is a man’s world, and a woman who insists on dashing herself against that hard truth is soon broken.’

Margerie looked at him searchingly. Despite having forgiven him for ruining her life as a girl, she had considered Wolf unchanged in essentials, still brutal and distrustful of women, still cold at heart, for all his maturity and hard-won experience on the battlefield.

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