Seducing Anne (17 page)

“Guy . . .”

“Yes, my love?” His eyes drifted up, lingered on her breasts for a moment and then they settled on her face.

She held her breath.
You are more than a friend to me—more than a man to be admired from afar . . . You are my comfort and my salvation as well.

The door opened, and in stomped Harry, his face contorted in a furious rage. “What is the meaning of this?” he yelled.

Guy removed her arm from his lap and scratched his whiskers on his chin, looking like he had barely woken from a deep slumber. He smiled with ease, and then stood up, approaching His Majesty.

“What is the meaning of what?” Guy glanced over at her.

She stood, too, but she was crumbling inside.

Was she in such a frightful state that Harry would know what she had done? Was her hair mussed, her kirtle askew and her skirts disheveled from being lifted and pushed aside?

She bit the inside of her bottom lip, wandered over to her soon-to-be husband and touched his shoulder. “We were speaking of the word of the Lord, and how he loves all his children—even the most vile of sinners.”

Harry’s glare tossed from Guy to her. “And that requires touching? His hand was on your arm!” He pushed her hand off his shoulder.

Out of nowhere, Guy was in front of her, separating her from the king. Was Moore trying to shield her?

She shifted to the side, but Guy did, too.

“Harry, please . . . When we pray, sometimes we touch others,” she explained, her voice soft.

“You were not praying! I saw with my own eyes—you were reading!” Harry’s spittle flew as he screamed.

“Please, dear heart—we were about to pray. Can you not forgive me for being careless?” She tried to inhale, but her lungs felt stuck in place, trapped behind her heart dropping out of its sphere. This was it. Harry would banish Guy. She knew that look the king gave when something was unforgivable in his estimation.

“Anne—I do not know who you are anymore. First you permit this man to take possession of your ring I gave you, and then allow Wyatt to take liberties and procure your topaz jewel as well. Are my gifts nothing to you?”

Yes
. “No! Of course not.” She gasped when the air got trapped in her throat. Her body rocked forward and she lost her footing, crashing into Guy for support. Harry was going to punish her by taking away her one true friend.

“The lady is unwell!” Harry lunged for her.

He was too slow, for Guy had already spun around and had her tucked in his arms as he carried her away.

“You let me handle him. I will set you in bed, and you rest,” Guy whispered to her with his head bent toward her. He lifted his head back up and smiled, but it was lacking in his eyes.

“He will send you away,” she whispered back while he continued walking at a brisk pace.

“And that will do what? Keep me out of his court only long enough until I figure out how to get back in and be about your skirts again, and in your mind and heart.” His near-silent voice sent chills down her spine.

She smiled and inhaled his deeply masculine, slightly citrus scent. It was ambrosia to her soul.

“Hand her over at once! I am her—”

Guy turned around, almost knocking into the king. “Her
what
? Her jailer? You mean to imprison her. I mean to free her. Give me space so I might take care of her needs, then if you wish to chide me and bellow in my face, I shall be all too happy to receive it. But for now, Anne is all that matters. I take her to her bedchamber so she may gather her strength back, for that is what the lady requires.”

Harry turned the brightest shade of heated crimson she had ever witnessed. He stomped his foot and then led the way.

Guy had said all of those words without hollering or turning a new color of red previously undiscovered. Harry looked the impetuous fool.

It was odd how she felt so safe and yet in such peril—she had no idea what was to become of her after Harry decided Guy’s fate.

A few moments later, she was settled into her bed, and the two men left.

It did not take long though for her to cry into her pillow as she heard the words she dreaded carry in the air—”You are never to speak to Anne again without my express permission!”

Chapter 8

Anne was stiff from lying in bed so long, but she was uncertain she wanted to face what had happened.

Harry screamed at Guy in her private chambers for what seemed like an eternity.

She heard most of it, even if she was not there to witness any of it.

The worst part was she was unable to hear Guy’s responses.

Her heart ached so fiercely it was hard to breathe, and her eyes kept stinging from shedding so many tears.

Finally, her face was dry, and she only heard the sound of scurrying feet in her outer chambers.

Harry must be brutalizing them all into submission—making sure everything was as he wanted it to be.

She could not blame them for cowering and then rushing around to do his bidding.

Harry’s temper was frightening to most. It was to her, too, but she refused to let it show.

That was one of the reasons she figured he professed to love her and why he would say she was his equal.

She pulled out one of Harry’s love notes from three years ago—the last one he wrote her. Things seemed to shift after this letter was shared with her. He no longer seemed to be completely devoted to her.

Her eyes drifted over the words, and one in particular stood out to her—
conformableness
.

That was what Harry had always wanted from her—was it not—to conform to his way of thinking?

All along she would express her ideas with him in such a way that it would subtly coax him into agreeing until he believed it was his own thought all along.

How was she to live out her life with a man like this?

Guy did not force her to spoon-feed him her thoughts in this manner. He truly wanted to know what she thought without any pretense at all.

Her eyes went back to Harry’s letter—

To inform you what joy it is to me to understand of your conformableness with reason, and of the suppressing of your inutile and vain thoughts with the bridle of reason. I assure you all the good in this world could not counterpoise for my satisfaction the knowledge and certainty thereof, wherefore, good sweetheart, continue the same, not only in this, but in all your doings hereafter; for thereby shall come, both to you and me, the greatest quietness that may be in this world.

Quiet? He was rarely quiet—always exploding in a rage. She could see now that Harry expected her to stay the conformable woman, suppressing her thoughts. How could she do that when there was so much good to be done in the name of Christ Jesus?

Did her thoughts have no merit to him?

A wave of nausea swept over her when she realized the few times she openly shared her ideas without treading carefully, he dismissed them as childishness.

He did not love her. How could he? He tolerated her as a silly woman with lofty, impractical ideals.

She allowed the letter to drop to her lap while she sat up in bed, stewing over what her life had become. This was unbearable, now that she saw all this man stood for.

He had no respect for her.

How could he? She had allowed him to treat her thusly.

As she was pondering how she could have allowed this—even if it was the way society was with a woman living in the shadows, only prized for bearing sons—her door opened.

Harry poked his head in and smiled at her.

She forced her lips to reciprocate, even if she was sick inside at seeing him. Her fingers fisted around the linens, and she willed them to remain there and not bludgeon his face for being a bully.

“Good sweetheart, are you more rested now?” he asked, slipping inside and moving toward her.

She nodded and swallowed down the bile trickling up the back of her throat.

“I am glad to hear it.” He sat on the edge of her bed by her hip. His hand swept out and picked up his letter she had just been poring over. His face lit up with satisfaction. “I see you have found your way back to me.”

“I never left, Harry.” Her eyes twitched as she tried to keep them from glaring at him.

“I am not certain that is entirely true.” He clucked his tongue and gave her a mock reprimanding look. “You have been quite the naughty one—inciting me to jealousy, but I understand it is not all your fault.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She cocked her head at him.

He set the note aside so it was out of the way. “It means that you are too charming and exquisite for other men at court to ignore. They see what a jewel I have, and they covet it like any man should do.” Another smile.

She fought off a repulsed shiver. “Thank you for the compliment.”

“It is well earned, so there is no need to thank me, but you must be more careful not to stir their passions unnecessarily. This Moore fellow is quite taken with you. I have explained to him who you belong to. He has no right to speak to you from this day forward. If I hear or see him speaking to you, he will be dismissed from court.”

Her eyes went wide for a moment. “You did not banish him?”

He tossed his head back and laughed, then dropped it and shook it. “Why, good woman, no. Why would I? If he leaves, I cannot keep an eye on him. Besides, Carew explained to me the reason he was even here in the first place.”

“Which is?” Her heart began beating again. She had not even realized it had stopped, until she took a deep breath and her heart seemed to ripple back into action.

“He is in need of an honest wage. He is a jeweler, which is why he wanted your ring. I have ordered some new pieces for you, and it is his job to make them without involving you. He likes to know his subjects before he creates a new set. I am sure you will be well-pleased.” He leaned in and kissed her nose.

“Are you . . . Do you think he will be able to meet your specifications?”

He tsked. “Is that to insinuate I am a finicky monarch?” He laughed once more.

She went ahead and glared this time. Everyone knew he was a particular man about everything.

He searched her face, making her squirm. “My dear lady, I have noticed that you like to stare at Moore. Is it because of his facial hair?”

She nodded a little too quickly, but she hoped he would think nothing of it. What would it hurt if he thought this was the reason she was drawn to Moore’s beautifully rugged, chiseled jaw and dark features?

“Then I shall grow mine out for you. I think you might rather like how soft it might feel.” He picked up her right hand and ran it across his slightly stubbled chin. “I shall henceforth refuse to shave—all for you—
my
beloved.”

She smiled. It was kind of sweet he would do that for her, even if she truly was without an opinion on a man’s facial hair.

“Now—tell me how Wyatt got hold of your topaz ring? Do I need to fasten bells to your jewels so when a thief takes them, I will hear the noise?” He grinned with a mischievous smirk in his eyes.

“No, sire. He was being silly and swiped it away during a game of cards. He meant to tease me about Guy having my garnet ring. I ignored his adolescent game and allowed him to keep it. I thought if I feigned indifference, he would return it. He did not, and then as the night wore on, I forgot he had it on his person.”

“Is this the truth? He was trying to flirt like an impetuous youth?”

She smiled brighter. “Yes.”

“Then I shall get it back for you.” He reached into his pocket. “In the meantime . . .” He pulled out a ring with a large ruby surrounded by dozens of tiny sapphires. “This is to be worn at all times as a sign of my unending affection for you.”

He slid it onto her left index finger and then kissed it while cupping her hand in his.

“Exquisite.” He patted her hand, then set it down.

Once more, her thoughts roamed to Moore, who never mentioned what she was wearing or complimented her jewels. His only words were ever that
she
was the one that was exquisite.

“Tomorrow we are on the hunt. You will be at my side all the day long.” He leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “So you gather your strength and right your humours. Do you need me to send for Butts to help you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Good Lord, no. I am well enough. I do not need your damned physician.”

His face pinched and paled. “Has Doctor Butts offended you somehow?”

She took a deep breath. Dammit—she was starting to act like Harry now with her short temper. “No, he is in good standing with me.”

He stood up, gave a slight bow, and she wondered if he was mocking her. Was this his way of saying she was not acting befit a future queen of England?

“I will have supper brought to you in your chambers. Do not leave your apartments tonight.”

She nodded with her head bent to the side and then watched him go.

Her body sagged back into the bed, she curled in on herself and went over on her side, clutching her pillow.