The King's Sister. Anne O'Brien

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      I cut off the voice before it could say more, and then he was returned with loose-limbed grace, the perfect protagonist upon whom to polish my female skills. Was I love-struck? Certainly not. Merely enjoying my first experiences under the power of a flattering tongue, spreading my wings in the company of a man of many talents.

      I smiled at my sister who was watching me from across the chamber, brows arched. I knew that expression, and looked away.

      ‘You look pleased to see me return,’ John Holland observed. ‘Did you think I would abandon you?’

      ‘I am pleased. I am thirsty, and I knew you would not leave me desolate, Sir John. Did not our King command you to entertain me? Not even you would dare disobey him on this most auspicious of days.’

      ‘Do you say?’

      ‘Yes. Are you going to give me that cup of wine? You may as well be of use to me.’ I managed a perfect air of abstraction.

      ‘Which puts me in my place. Since you need to sit, I will sit with you.’ He hooked a foot round a stool, pulled it close and sat.

      Which suited me very well. I had the energy to dance through the night but with our previous meeting in mind I sipped, smiled my thanks, smoothing the folds of my oversleeves so they draped in elegant contours to the floor, wondering if he would remind me. There were some elements of it, such as my own appearance and demeanour, I would rather remain buried in the past. And so I would select a different direction for our conversation, and, if possible, puncture his self-possession a little.

      ‘Have you been absent from court, sir?’ I knew very well that he had.

      ‘Yes. I have a new lordship in Gascony to oversee, as well as recent grants of estates in England. Did you not miss me?’

      I was prepared for this. ‘No, sir.’ Inspecting the contents of my cup. ‘I have been much occupied.’

      ‘I see that you have put your time here at Westminster to excellent use.’ I looked up. Of course he remembered. How would it be possible for him to forget such a cataclysmic event that brought us all close to disaster? ‘A marked improvement on the last time we met. I must commend you.’ He raised his cup in a toast, which I returned, with insouciance.

      ‘In what respect, sir?’ I risked.

      ‘In respect of the radiant Countess of Pembroke.’ There was a challenge that glimmered in his eye. ‘Dishevelled, terrified and tearful, as I recall, and undoubtedly sharp-tongued. Today you are become one of the most beautiful women in this tedious gathering.’ I felt his appraisal, which, to my chagrin, brought colour to my cheeks, as did his fulsome compliment. ‘You were less than presentable when I saw you last.’

      ‘Can you blame me, Sir John? But I deny that I was tearful.’ Did he need to remind me? I raised my chin a little, even as the beat of my heart lurched and I sought for a mature response to an event that still had the power to distress me. I had no intention of being seduced by clever accolades, but I would enjoy them.

      ‘Perhaps I was mistaken.’ He inclined his head graciously. ‘You had been tossed into an impossible situation.’

      ‘From which you rescued me,’ I said, eyes cast once more demurely down to my wine cup, anticipation rife, sensing that this man was at his most dangerous when smoothly compliant.

      ‘Despite your reluctance to be rescued.’ An innocuous reply.

      ‘I must thank you for your forbearance if I seemed less than amenable.’

      ‘I have to say, Madam Elizabeth,’ he responded promptly, ‘that it is not only your appearance that has undergone a transformation. Today your tongue is touched with honey.’

      I knew my eyes sparkled. I would not rise to that bait, like a salmon snatching at a mayfly, only to be dragged to land by an enterprising fisherman. Instead I cast my own bait on the choppy waters.

      What an enjoyable conversation this was becoming.

      ‘I am astonished,’ I observed, ‘that Richard agreed to receive you at court, Sir John, if what I hear is true.’

      With alacrity the bait was snapped up. Would nothing disconcert him? ‘Admirable! You have reverted to your acerbic mood, I note. And at my expense. Take care, Madam Elizabeth. Would you do battle with me?’

      ‘Yes, when you avoid my question.’

      ‘You did not ask a question. You made an observation. Which is patently untrue. My brother is always pleased to have me close.’

      ‘Even with the recent scandal? Causing waves to unsettle the whole family?’

      ‘I see no waves.’ Straightening, he swept a wide gesture to encompass the chattering throng. Indeed there were none, everyone present intent on nothing but enjoyment, but I pursued my quarry, since he was proving to be a willing combatant.

      ‘My father the Duke was most displeased.’

      ‘Are you sure, Countess? The Duke has been nothing but grateful for my recent services in his expedition to besiege St Malo. Even if it was destined to failure.’

      A fast lunge and parry. A rapid cut and thrust. How exhilarating it was to talk with a man in this fashion. Would I ever have such conversation with Jonty? I knew that I never would.

      ‘As for waves …’ I mused. ‘Perhaps they are only invisible because the lady in question is not here to stir them into life.’ I too looked around the vast chamber, feigning astonished interest at the absence of the woman in question. ‘But I expect she will announce herself very soon, and then we will see …’

      ‘Do you spend all your days listening to gossip?’ he interrupted, those dark eyes wide with innocence, unless one looked too closely and was tempted to fall into their depths. Quickly I looked away, taking another sip of wine.

      ‘Yes. What else is there for me to do? I fear your reputation has sunk you in the mire, Sir John.’

      ‘You shouldn’t believe all you hear, Madam Elizabeth.’

      ‘Is it not true, then? The court has been awash with it.’

      ‘I’ll not tell you.’

      ‘I see.’ I looked at him through my lashes as once more I took a sip of wine. ‘Are you already suffering remorse, perhaps? Intending to confess your sins and mend your ways?’ I leaned a little towards him. ‘You can tell me, you know. I can be most discreet.’

      ‘When is a young woman ever discreet? And I don’t believe I’ve ever suffered a moment’s remorse in all my life.’ He laughed again, a rich attractive sound that drew eyes. ‘I’ll not tell you my thoughts, because you’re too young for such salacious gossip.’

      ‘What would I not know? I am nineteen years old. And wed.’

      ‘To a husband who does not share your bed. Thus making you a charmingly innocent virgin wife. And,’ he added, with no warning at all, ‘I would like nothing better than to rob you of that innocence.’

      Which effectively silenced me. Even more when, before I could prevent it, he had snatched up my free hand in his and raised it to press his lips to my fingers. This was far more outspoken, more particular, than I had expected, but had I not goaded him? I had asked for this riposte. Casting a hasty glance over our courtly companions, it was a relief to see that his attentions were unobserved, but a ripple of awareness, and not a little fear, ran over my nape as my hand was not released.

      ‘You must not, sir. Do you wish to make me the subject of similar gossip?’

      Upon which John Holland’s smile vanished like the sun behind a particularly virulent storm cloud, and he became broodingly brisk and businesslike, defying me to follow his moods.

      ‘Don’t worry, Countess. I’ve not impugned your honour. It’s only a kiss between family. Your father would have my skin nailed to the flag-pole at Kenilworth if he thought