The King's Damsel by Emerson Kate

Author:Emerson, Kate [Emerson, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2012-08-07T00:00:00+00:00

27

We were still at Beaulieu in June. I had been for a walk in the gardens, enjoying an hour of solitude, and had stopped on a little footbridge to watch the fish in the artificial stream that ran beneath it when I noticed a man in a riding cloak watching me from the gate that led to the orchard. At first I did not recognize him. When I did, my heart sank.

Sir Lionel Daggett, a parody of a smile twisting his lips, stalked toward me along the graveled path. When he joined me on the footbridge, he doffed his feathered bonnet. It was a meaningless gesture. He’d never had any respect for me, nor any liking, either.

“Mistress Thomasine, you appear to be in excellent health.”

I quickly curtseyed, which allowed me to hide my face from him. I was afraid my expression would give away my dismay at seeing him again and this odious man was still my guardian.

It had been more than three years since I’d last seen him. His raspy voice was the same, but he had continued to put on weight. He now had triple chins, and the veins in his nose bulged, a sure indication that he overindulged in drink as well as food.

When he extended a hand to help me rise, I was obliged to take it. Even with the two layers of our leather gloves between us, his touch made my skin crawl.

He wasted no time on preliminaries. Gripping my hand more tightly, he said, “You have been little help to me, Thomasine.”

“You cannot blame me for failing to advance your political career,” I objected. “How was I to win you an appointment at the king’s court when his daughter so rarely sees him?”

Long service in the hinterlands had not improved Sir Lionel’s temperament. He snarled. “A clever puss would have found a way. But it no longer matters. I’ve another use for you. My wife died some time ago. I am in the market for a new bride.”

A terrible sense of foreboding came over me. I took a step back, but there was nowhere to run. I bumped up against the railing of the bridge. Over the thundering of my heart, I managed to croak out a response: “What has that to do with me, Sir Lionel?”

“Why everything, my dear. I propose to marry you.”

The horrifying words hung in the still air between us. Bile rose in my throat. My innards clenched in dread. For a long moment, I simply stared at him. Then I blurted out the first objection I could think of that might have a prayer of convincing him to change his mind: “The princess must give her permission.”

He laughed. “Your young mistress has no say in this matter. Nor does Lady Salisbury, if you are thinking you can persuade the old countess to stand against me. It is none of her concern.”

“But . . . but I have an obligation to the princess.” I turned away from him, gripping the railing with both hands.

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