Restoration Series - A Scoundrel's Kiss Part 32

"I got drunk in a tavern, and I might have said some things," he muttered.

"You got drunk," she repeated with scorn.

"That is what a man does when he is angry."

"Getting drunk is what men do when they are celebrating, and you had cause for that at my expense."

He suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders. "You don't understand anything, do you?"

She met his gaze boldly. "Tell me, then. Explain to me why you seduced me and then saw fit to brag of your despicable conduct in a public tavern. Convince me that what you did was good and honorable and n.o.ble. Make me believe that your motive was of the highest caliber, and not based on selfishness and l.u.s.t and greed.""Arabella-"

He was interrupted by the yipping of dogs not far away.

Simultaneously, they turned to see the king striding toward them, accompanied by liveried servants. Two carried candleholders, one a goblet and another lead several of the king's spaniels. "Lady Arabella, how lovely you look tonight!"

"You are too kind, Your Majesty."

"Will you join us for a small private supper, Lady Arabella?" the king inquired.

As he reached out to take her hand, Arabella knew he was not merely asking her to eat with him.

If the sight of the king, for all his magnificence and charm and ease of manner, did not stir her at all, it was because she was wiser. Never again would a man's outward appearance tempt her.

She glanced at Neville. For an instant, there was a look in his eyes-yet it was quickly gone, and he remained silent.

"I would be honored, Your Majesty."

Chapter 21.

At the start of the corridor leading to the royal apartments, Charles dismissed his grinning courtiers, sent his dogs away with their keeper and smiled at Arabella.

They were alone-or as alone as anyone with the king ever got, for servants stood in position at several places along the corridor. Once they saw the king and Arabella, however, they turned toward the wall and lowered their heads, as if this would render them deaf and blind.

"We are so delighted you are supping with us."

"It is a pleasure, Your Majesty."

"Soon enough, you will have rooms here of your own, if you so wish. Or a house in the city, if you prefer."

She managed an answering smile. "I think I would prefer to live elsewhere, Majesty." She gave him a sidelong glance. "I did not see the queen in the Banqueting House."

"She is resting in her chambers today."

"Or Lady Castlemaine."

He made a wry grin. "She is entertaining in her own apartments, I expect. As I am not exclusive, neitheris she. Neither must... anyone... be."

He was referring to her, obviously.

Arabella had not believed that a man could be so blase about his lover having lovers, but obviously Charles did not particularly care what Lady Castlemaine did when she was not with him.

This was the depraved world she was going to be part of. Where Neville had put her.

Where she had put herself.

"You s.h.i.+ver, my dear. Are you cold?"

"I merely felt a draft, Your Majesty."

"You will be warmer soon," he promised softly.

Arabella swallowed hard.

"Now, these apartments here belong to the Lord Keeper, and next comes the Treasury, where we shall have to find some suitable jewels for you, eh?"

"That won't be necessary, Your Majesty."

"We do not speak of necessities, Arabella," he said in a slightly sterner tone. "It will be our pleasure."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"This is my laboratory," he said, gesturing toward another gilded door. "We live in a fascinating age, Arabella. An age of discovery. Of science."

"Yes, Majesty."

His voice lowered. "As well as an age of love." He halted and gently tugged her into his arms. "My dear, you may call me Charles."

Then he kissed her, his lips moving over hers with sureness and confidence.

She felt nothing except revulsion. But that must not be. It must not!

His hands made leisurely progress over her back, and she felt him caress her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

How was it she could find that so delightful when it was Neville and feel the opposite when it was the king?

Yet she should act as if she enjoyed this... this pawing, so she made a few sounds as if she were pleased and excited.

Her ruse must have worked, for he continued, his caresses growing bolder as he shoved his tongue into her mouth.

She was sickened and wanted to tell him to stop-but then what would happen to her?

Fortunately, he ceased of his own volition.

"Majesty, you overwhelm me," she panted, hoping to prevent him from comprehending her true feelings,which had to be subdued.

"And you intoxicate me with your beauty," he said smoothly.

Indeed, he said the words so blithely that she rather suspected he had said these very words many times before.

He started to walk again, and she was glad of that. "These next rooms are for Lord Arlington, and so we come at last to the Stone Gallery."

He led her through more of Whitehall. Finally he opened a door and revealed a set of rooms of great, gilded magnificence well lit with so many candles that it seemed as if the walls glowed with molten gold.

They were his apartments, obviously, for the liveried servants looked as if they expected him. The first room was something of an anteroom, and the king divested himself of his stately coat.

"There, now, that is better," he said with a cheerful smile, rolling his shoulders. "Odd's fish, that must weigh five pounds. Come, Arabella."

He brought her further inside to another room, where there was a table of polished mahogany set with fine crystal banded with silver. Also set out on the exquisite linen were silver plates. A large crystal bowl held oranges, apples and what Arabella supposed must be a pineapple, a fruit from the New World she had heard of. Confectionery dainties also stood upon the table in smaller silver dishes.

So he did mean that they should eat before... before...

The king escorted her to the table, where two statuelike servants stood at the two chairs. "Please, sit."

Surely the king should sit first. She glanced at the servants, wondering if they would see her uncertainty and give her a sign.

They remained unhelpfully inscrutable.

The king prepared to sit, and at that same moment, the servant closest to her went behind her chair and pushed it forward. Taking a cue, she sat at the same time as the king.

"We shall have no more need of you this evening," Charles said to the servants.

They bowed and left as quietly as if they were spirits instead of mortals.

"Is this not pleasant?" the king asked after the servants had departed. "Just the two of us here together?"

Arabella looked at the face of the man opposite her. l.u.s.t lurked below the affable surface of his expression, and it was a l.u.s.t that had more in common with that of Buckingham than the desire in Neville's eyes.

It had nothing in common with the desire in Neville's eyes or the love she had seen there.

The love that had still been there the last time he had looked at her.

Suddenly, despite the words they had said and the anger she had felt, she knew she loved him yet and was just as sure he loved her.

Arabella abruptly shoved back her chair and faced the surprised monarch. "Your Majesty, I must beg your forgiveness. I have made a terrible mistake."His brows lowered ominously. "A mistake?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," she said, her knees beginning to tremble as she thought of the Tower.

But she would-she must-continue. "A mistake. I should not have come here."

The king leaned back in his gilded chair and regarded her with a slightly puzzled air that lessened her dread somewhat. "Why not?"

"I-I cannot love you."

"I do not want your love," Charles replied with a smile. "Your affection would be enough, and we shall...

divert each other."

"I do not want to be diverted!" she said desperately.

He toyed with a silver fork. "Do you want a t.i.tle or a house or some such thing first?"

"No, Your Majesty. Thank you, but no."

"Sit down, Lady Arabella."

It was, as much as anything she had ever heard the king say, a royal command. "Your Majesty, please- ".

"Sit down!"

She obeyed.

"Do you not appreciate the honor we do you?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Yet you would refuse your king?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"It's Farrington, isn't it?"

Suddenly Arabella thought she might have been wiser to submit. Now she might have put Neville in jeopardy. "Majesty, please-"

"Do you deny that there is another man in your heart?"

"I... I cannot, sire."

"And it is Farrington."

She could not deny that, either.

"So even though Farrington has caused your fall from grace, you think you love him."

"My fall was not his fault, Majesty, and I do not think I love him. I know I do."

"He told me you had quarreled."

She twisted her fingers together. "I was upset and angry with him, Majesty-but I still love him.""We take it, then, that he is forgiven for seducing you?"

"He didn't seduce me."

The king straightened. "Then we have been grievously misinformed!"