What A Rogue Wants (40 page)

Madelaine gasped as she peered into
the room. His Majesty’s hair stuck out in spiky patches from his
head. He seemed nothing like the orderly king she was used to
seeing. His clothing was a wrinkled mess and a shadow of stubble
covered his normally rosy cheeks. And his eyes… She shivered at the
sight of his wild eyes. He looked angry enough to kill someone. He
struck out at one of his pages while the other one advanced toward
the king.

“
You deceived me,” the
king said to the room full of men. His voice was barely above a
whisper, but the dark, unyielding tone held the promise of
retribution. The king’s sudden change of demeanor made the hairs at
the back of her neck rise.

She tensed, expecting someone to
demand she and Grey leave at once, but no one spared them notice.
She tried to capture Grey’s attention, but his focus was riveted to
the scene before him.

The king advanced once again on the
servant. “You cannot keep me here.”

In answer, the taller of the two pages
reached out to restrain His Majesty.

The king slapped the man’s hand away.
“You dare to touch your king!”

The page’s eyes widened as if he was
at a loss for what to do. A man with a shock of white hair moved
cautiously toward the king, a needle gripped in his hand. “Your
Majesty,” he implored.

The king jerked toward the man. “You
cannot make me eat! You cannot make me sleep!” The king pounded his
fist against the chair he stood in front of. “Where is my queen?
Where are my daughters?”

“
Please, Your Majesty.”
The physician, because surely he was one, tried to inch toward the
king once more.

“
Stay back,” the king
hissed. “I don’t trust you. You lured me from my home with
lies.”

Madelaine’s blood ran colder than the
wintery waters of the river by her house. Beside her, Grey tensed.
Was the king now insane? Was this what her father feared would come
to pass and why he’d betrayed his liege? She swayed with the
emotions of relief and pity.

“
Your Majesty,” the
physician tried again, his tone dropping close to a whisper. “No
one wants your throne.”

A strangled laugh escaped the king.
“Everyone wants my throne, right down to my eldest son.”

Madelaine nearly gasped. How right he
was. She didn’t think the king was insane. He was sick, and he was
angry because he knew many of those he needed to trust most were
untrustworthy. Would turn on him. As her father had.

The king swung toward the door, and
Madelaine hurried to scurry out of his way and the fury blazing
from his eyes. He stopped in his tracks, his gaze widening for a
moment as he assessed her, and then he inclined his head, once
again every bit the strong leader, the noble king.

Her heart squeezed for him and what he
must be enduring. To be unsure of your own mind and then to think
you could not count on those around you to stand by you, her father
included. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“
Lady Madelaine, to what
do we owe this honor?”

She dropped to a curtsy, unsure what
to say. When she stood, it was as if the tension of the room had
drained away. “Your Majesty, I’m being escorted back to the castle
by Lord Grey.” She regarded Grey. Let him tell the king she was a
traitor, she’d not name herself so, even if it was now true. She
loved the king, and if the decision had been hers alone to make―the
truth struck her. By God, she would have never made the decision
her father had.

“
Lord Grey? I thought not
to see you for some time. Do you not have business
elsewhere?”

“
Yes, Your Majesty, but
Lord Pearson charged me with seeing Lady Madelaine to her home and
then back to Windsor first.”

The king’s mouth turned downward.
“Come to my chambers. It seems we need to talk.” Command given, he
exited the room, his gold-threaded robe flying out behind him. Grey
grabbed Madelaine’s hand and pulled her behind him, and within a
few moments she sat in a room and wrapped her hands around her
waist to hide their shaking.

The king swept his gaze over her. “You
have your mother’s eyes, rich amber like the finest tea in the
kingdom.”

“
You remember my mother?”
Madelaine asked in surprise.

The king smiled, the act transforming
his haggard face and making him appear almost healthy for a
moment.

“
But of course. I remember
all beautiful women, but especially one who served my queen with
such graciousness.”

Madelaine caught her breath. Thank
goodness the king didn’t know how her mother had really felt about
the queen. That would not help Madelaine to plead her case now. “My
mother was very pleased to serve you,” Madelaine said, glad she
could craft an answer that was not a lie.

The king leaned back in his chair. “I
know. I admired your mother. It’s why I married her to your father.
I thought to do her a service, but I fear I dealt them both a
disservice.”

“
I never knew you
suggested my father marry my mother.”

The king chuckled. “I didn’t suggest
it, Lady Madelaine. I commanded it, which is what kings do. Yet
sometimes, even kings make a mistake, which is why I surround
myself with wise men to counsel me.” The king focused on Grey.
“Lord Grey, see Lady Madelaine to the library and then you and I
shall speak.”

Madelaine stood and curtsied. Her eyes
watered with emotion. His Majesty was obviously very astute when he
was in his right mind. Anger flared in her. Her father was wrong.
The king could rule, if strong men would help him as her father
should have kept doing. Had he tried? Had he tried and the king
refused? If not, she couldn’t fathom what had turned her father
against the man he’d served his entire life.

MADELAINE STAYED IN THE SEAT where
Grey had deposited her with instructions not to move a muscle. But
the more she thought things over the more she decided she had every
right to know what her fate was going to be. She eyed the closed
library door and then the closed door that led to the king’s
private chambers adjacent to the room she sat in.

One thing she’d grown good at over the
years was eavesdropping to learn if her parents were fighting. That
way she knew when to try to avoid her mother. She could hear
secrets outside the thickest door so long as there was a crack at
the bottom. The ornate door to the king’s private chamber with the
sun filtering into the library from the bottom was no different
than the less expensive door in her home.

She rose, careful not to make a sound,
and crept over to the library door where she turned the lock to
ensure she would not be discovered. Then, with a thudding heart,
she tiptoed to the adjacent door and sinking to her knees, pressed
close to the ground and the space where the sun shone in. She
couldn’t see anything but that hardly mattered, she knew the king’s
voice.

“
Terrible business,” he
said, paper crinkling on the other side of the door. Had Grey given
the king back his paper? Was her father now condemned? Was she
condemned?

“
Sire, what do you wish me
to do?” Grey asked.

Drumming― fingers on a table
perhaps―came from the room. “I don’t know. I cannot ignore my own
culpability. I knew Stratmore was angry when I forced him to leave
France. He was sure Sutton was alive, and he could save him. I was
sure I’d lose one more good and loyal spy if Stratmore stayed to
try to find Sutton. Even after we found Sutton’s ring, I could see
the anger toward me in Stratmore’s eyes. I think he blamed me for
Sutton’s death. He thinks I made the wrong decision, but damn
it―”

The bang on the other side of the room
was followed by the sound of something―glass―which fell and
shattered. Madelaine inhaled a steadying breath and pressed closer
to the floor.

“
I didn’t make the
decision alone. I sought your father’s advice as I will now seek
your brother’s. I know my limitations with my malady.”

“
Of course, Your
Majesty.”

A chair squeaked, and suddenly the
shadow of shoes fell by the door. Madelaine rested her hands
against the floor, held her breath and prepared to jump and run to
her chair if the door started to open.

“
I want you to vow
something to me, Lord Grey, as I made your brother vow and your
father before him.”

“
Of course.”

“
If you see that my mind
is too addled to rule, and your brother agrees, I have written my
express wishes that my son rule as regent. The paper is locked in
the gold box in my room at Windsor. Your brother knows the box.
Take the paper, get it to the prince, and I’ve no doubt he’ll be
happy to take my throne from me. Vow this to me.”

“
I vow it,” Grey swore,
his voice trembling.

Madelaine rose on shaking legs and
made her way to the chair. She sunk down and buried her face in her
hands, struggling to contain her sobs for her king, her father and
herself. Father was a fool. He’d betrayed his king when there was
no need, and she’d willingly gone down with him. Maybe she was a
fool too.

What had driven Father’s choices? Had
he done it because of an old anger about being forced to marry
Mother? Or maybe the king forcing Father to leave a comrade he
didn’t know for certain was dead? Had that been the thing that
turned Father? It didn’t matter. The deed was done. Even now, Grey
was probably telling the king of her part. Soon she’d be locked in
the tower.

Grey picked up the paper and walked to
the fireplace. He threw it into the flames, watching as it curled
inward, flames blackening the paper into ash. It was gone, but what
he had to do lingered heavy in his mind. He turned his ring,
examining his thoughts.

Damn, Madelaine. He hated her, yet he
still loved her. He could slightly understand if it was only a
matter of her compulsion to help her father if he was attempting to
protect England, but he couldn’t understand her helping her father
or anyone else to kill another spy…Had she known of that? Would she
continue her father’s plan―whatever the hell it was―if Grey kept
her part secret? Even now, was she plotting a way to escape and
meet up with the man who had tried to kill him in the
woods?

“
Grey?” The king’s voice
startled him out of his musings.

He swung around and tensed at the
sight of Gravenhurst standing by the king’s side, the king’s pallor
shockingly white. Grey clenched his jaw. He couldn’t afford to
become so distracted by Madelaine that he didn’t notice when
someone entered a room, or that the king needed him.

“
Ring for my doctor,” the
king commanded.

Gravenhurst immediately rang the bell
on the table by the king’s chair and within seconds, the king’s
physician swept into the room. “My lord?”

“
I feel dizzy.” The king’s
voice rasped through the room.

The physician gestured to Gravenhurst.
“Fetch the pages. Your Majesty, the bloodletting is making you
dizzy. You need broth and rest.”

Two pages rushed into the room and
took the king by either arm to lead him toward the door. The king
turned at the threshold and looked at Grey and Gravenhurst. “I
leave matters in your capable hands for now. Keep me
updated.”

Grey bowed and when the door shut, he
spoke. “Did you find Edward?”

Gravenhurst shook his head, his face
paling until the scar on his forehead stood out like a beacon.
“What’s wrong?” Grey demanded, fear making his tone sharper and
louder than he’d intended.

Gravenhurst slid a hand into the pouch
at his side and withdrew a soiled, crumpled piece of paper.
Gravenhurst unfolded the note. Fear inched along Grey’s skin. The
missive was the size they used to send messages between each other
by carrier pigeons. Gravenhurst looked up, his eyes burning bright.
“I never made it to your home. I stopped halfway to water the
horses and check in with one of our contacts who maintains a pigeon
house for us. A bird had just arrived with this note and a small
package.”

Grey took the note from
Gravenhurst and scanned the scrawl.
Lords
Grey and Gravenhurst, I have Ashford. I’ll trade his life for that
of the lovely Lady Madelaine. Meet me on the
8
^th
at
the Dockside Warehouse. Come alone or Ashford
dies
.