To Chase the Storm by Kimberly Cates

Author:Kimberly Cates [Cates, Kimberly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gnarly Wool Publishing
Published: 2020-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Rafe had expected the glittering court that surrounded Elizabeth Tudor to be decadent, but even in his wildest imagination, during the week he had healed at Valcour Castle, he had not dreamed of the excessive lavishness of the English court.

Precious gems were scattered upon garments and hair as carelessly as flower petals tossed from a child's hand. The throne room was filled with treasures that dauntless adventurers had carried back from countless voyages to shower upon the queen who held not only their loyalty but, it was rumored, their hearts as well.

The Virgin Queen, they had named her, and yet it was well known that her majesty possessed a highly cultivated taste for a well-turned masculine body, although she rarely showed it, except in bawdy jests or in the patterns of the dance—the only time she was seen touching her male courtiers, even her renowned favorites. But her passion was there, all the same, in her eyes and in the aging lead-painted face that men had once called beautiful.

Rafe's gaze flicked across the crowded room to where the queen was ensconced upon a magnificent throne, her gem-starred hair like flame surrounding her pale cheeks, her mouth a tad selfish, her eyes keen.

She was the enemy ruler, and yet even as he watched her from a distance Rafe could feel her magnetism. It was a kind of silken thread that drew the greatest men in her kingdom to her and made them trip over themselves like puppies in search of her smile.

"What do you think of her?" Tarrant St. Cyr’s voice broke through Rafe's thoughts. Though Rafe wanted to tell the earl that his queen paraded about like a strumpet, that the lavish trappings of the Elizabethan court were vulgar, he found himself unable to do so.

Instead he heard his own harsh whisper. "She is magnificent."

The earl's lips curved in an indulgent smile. "Every man in this room is half in love with her, be he ten or a hundred. Once I believed it was because of the power she wielded, and that men only flocked about her in the hope of gaining a crown. But now I know it is some quality in Elizabeth herself. An aura that kept her safe even as a princess while her enemies plotted against her."

"Perhaps it is the fact that she changes her loyalty the way a chameleon shifts his hues," Rafe said. "Or that even though she is a monarch, she is not averse to using feminine wiles, seeming helpless while she waits to pierce a man's heart."

Tarrant scowled. "You think you know so much about our queen, and our ways, eh, stripling? You do not know Elizabeth at all. She can be the most loyal of friends. The kingdom she inherited from her sister was as somber as one of your Spanish courts, the fires of Smithfield still poisoning the air. Now look at it. For a generation—aye, since even before Henry died—factions warred within England, tearing it apart. Men did not care what damage they did to this island.

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