Virginia Henley

Table of Contents

 

 

“Dangerous games, Machiavellian manipulations, and political maneuverings . . . lusty and lavish.”

—
Booklist

 

“As twists of fate contrive to keep the two apart—intrigue, backstabbing, the bubonic plague—readers will hanker for them to live happily ever after.”

—
Publishers Weekly

 

“If you like history-rich characters that come to life in your own imagination . . . then Ms. Henley is one author you cannot dismiss!”

—Romance Designs

 

 

“Heart-stopping excitement, breathless tension, and tender romance.”

—
Rendezvous

 

“All the sensuality and glitter of a more traditional romance but enriched by the plot’s complexity and the heroine’s genuine growth.”

—
Publishers Weekly

 

“A gently suspenseful tale . . . filled with satisfying historical detail and actual characters from this intriguing period.”

—
Booklist

 

“Extraordinary characters, rich historical details, and a romance . . . [set] the pages on fire.”

—
Romantic Times
(Top Pick)

SIGNET

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First published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

First Printing, September 2005

Copyright © Virginia Henley, 2005

All rights reserved

 

REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

 

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PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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eISBN : 978-1-101-49827-9

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This one is for my friends: the Loopies, the Ladies of Louisiana, the RT gang, and last but assuredly not least my RWA sisters.

 

R
obert Montgomery stood tall and proud in the castleʹs solar, looking down with interest at the small female beside him. Red gold tendrils peeped out from beneath her white lace headdress, and her dark lashes were modestly lowered to her cheeks. In the candlelight she reminded him of an image he’d recently seen in a painting.
She has the face of an angel!
He glanced at his father, Alex Greysteel Montgomery, Earl of Eglinton, and allowed most of his resentment to dissolve. A month ago when he’d been informed of his betrothal to Elizabeth Cavendish, he’d balked at the idea, but his father had been adamant.

“Do you not realize how high in the pecking order this girl is? Her father, William, is Viscount Mansfield of Nottingham, Baron Ogle, Baron Cavendish of Bolsover and Earl of Newcastle. He’s also cousin to the Earl of Devonshire, who is considered equal to royalty. Fact is they’ve more money than the Royal Stuarts. If we turn down this match, it would toss away a dowry and estate of twenty thousand pounds.”

Robert knew immediately there was little chance of that. Greysteel Montgomery was an authoritarian widower who ruled his own roost. Since Robert had no mother to fight his battles, he’d voiced his own protest. “I warrant that thirteen is too young to be betrothed, sir.”

“Not when Mistress Cavendish is only seven. A six-year age difference is perfect! There’s a possibility she may inherit Bolsover Castle someday. It’s a good match for them too. A Montgomery is as good as a Cavendish! Our Worksop holdings adjoin their properties, and Newcastle inherited his mother’s Ogle land, which runs parallel with ours in Northumberland. That is what has prompted this offer. The king has summoned his nobles to Nottingham to plan war strategy. We can have the betrothal ceremony there and kill two crows with one stone.”

 

Lady Cavendish looked at her small daughter with love.
I’m so relieved to get her settled. Robert Montgomery is such a noble, upright young man that I shall have no fear for Elizabeth’s future if something should happen to me.
She made a surreptitious sign of the cross. She knew her health was not robust—last winter she had almost died from pneumonia.

She glanced at her husband, William, who smiled his encouragement. She knew he doted on the child and wanted only the best for her. She looked at the Earl of Eglinton.
He’s dark and dominant, but he exudes strength.
Her glance moved to the younger Greysteel, who stood beside her daughter.
He’s cut from the same cloth. Elizabeth will have need of his strength.

The future bride stood deep in thought, remembering the shocked look on her mother’s face when she had insisted, “I can’t be betrothed to Montgomery! I am going to marry Charles!”

“That is impossible, Elizabeth. Charles will be King of England someday. He must marry a lady with royal blood because she will become the queen. Montgomery is noble and strong. I vow he will protect you and always keep you safe, my darling.”

 

Robert watched Nottingham Castle’s chaplain step forward to perform the brief betrothal ceremony. He gave his consent gravely and then the chaplain put the question to Elizabeth. Before she answered, she raised her lashes and gave him a look of appraisal that made him feel somehow inadequate. He clenched his jaw and stared a challenge into eyes that were deep green. He straightened his shoulders, knowing they were broad and well muscled for his age, and when his betrothed lowered her lashes in what seemed meek acquiescence, his confidence returned.

The legal documents were duly signed and Lady Cavendish whisked her daughter off to bed with a protective arm about her, leaving the men to more important matters of war and whiskey.

 

The adolescent males riding through the acres of Nottingham Castle suddenly challenged one another to an impromptu race. Mounted on a massive bay gelding, swarthy Charles Stuart easily took the lead. The prince’s startling physical maturity belied his fourteen years, making his twelve-year-old brother, James, and the Villiers brothers look like boys. Only Robert Montgomery, called Greysteel after his father, was a worthy challenger. Mounted on his sleek grey hunter, he pulled alongside Charles, and the young men exchanged a quick grin, acknowledging admiration for each other’s horsemanship, as they left the rest to eat their dust.

From out of nowhere, a small black mare streaked past them, flying on the wind. Astride was a female who looked far too young to even approach a horse, let alone ride one.

“Who the devil is that?” Greysteel demanded in outrage.