Название | Conor |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Ruth Langan |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408989562 |
Aware that Elizabeth was a jealous monarch, Conor knew he would have to be very careful not to incur the queen’s wrath. He would keep his relationship with Emma Vaughn one of simple friendship. That would be best, especially in his line of work. Anyone who got too close stood a good chance of being burned, should the fires of war be fanned.
Still, it would be good to have someone with whom he could shed some pretense. A true Irish lass with whom he could simply relax and unburden himself.
In this den of vipers, both he and Emma Vaughn had need of at least one true friend.
Chapter Three
“Lord Dunstan has invited you to sup with the queen?” Amena, one of the queen’s favorite ladies-in-waiting, arched a brow in surprise. Then she studied Emma with a knowing smile. “I must admit I’m more than a little surprised. He usually prefers...” She shrugged. “No matter. It is considered quite an honor. What will you wear?”
Emma picked through her meager wardrobe and chose one of her mother’s old gowns, which she had brought along because her own seemed completely unsuitable. “I thought this would do.”
“Hmm.” Amena held it up to the girl and clucked her tongue. “It seems a bit...overlarge. But I suppose I could loan you a sash. And some decent slippers. I’ll send my servant with them.”
“Thank you.” Emma watched as the older woman took her leave. Then she began pacing in front of the fireplace.
Lord Dunstan made her uncomfortable. In fact, the very touch of him made her skin crawl. There was something about his manner. Or perhaps it was the look in his eyes. Whatever the reason, she mistrusted the man. But she would do whatever necessary to see this task to its conclusion, no matter what danger or discomfort it entailed.
With a sigh she slipped out of her gown and into one of her mother’s. Though it was no longer stylish, and far too big for her slender frame, it gave her a sense of peace to feel the fabric against her skin. She breathed deeply. She could still smell her mother. The very thought brought a sting of tears to her eyes.
At a knock on the door she blinked away her melancholy thoughts and opened the door to accept the sash from Amena’s servant. Minutes later, when Dunstan arrived to escort her, she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. I do this for you, Father, she thought. And for little Sarah.
“Well, Emma.” Elizabeth glanced down the table at the young woman who was seated beside Lord Dunstan. “What do you think about partaking of such a splendid meal?”
Emma’s face turned several shades of pink. She was clearly uncomfortable at having been singled out by the queen. “It is...as impressive as the company, Majesty.”
“Well said.” Elizabeth was enjoying herself away from the pomp that usually surrounded her at court. Though she reveled in her position as supreme monarch, there were times when the burden grew heavy. At such times, she withdrew, with only a few close friends and confidantes to relieve the tedium of public life.
The queen turned to Conor, who sat at her right side. “Have you met Emma Vaughn?”
He nodded. “Lord Dunstan introduced us this afternoon.”
“Her stepmother, Celestine, is my cousin.” Elizabeth pinned the girl with a steady took. “How is my cousin?”
Emma chose her words carefully. “She appears healthy, Majesty.”
“Aye. Celestine is a very healthy woman.” Elizabeth gave a knowing smile. “With healthy appetites. As many of our young men will attest. And your father?”
“He is...not so well.”
“Then it is fortunate that he has a strong young wife to see to his care. You have a sister, I believe?”
The young woman’s eyes seemed to mist for a moment before she nodded. “Sarah. She is six years old.”
“I am surprised that a woman like Celestine would take on the care of a child. Your father must be a man of extreme charm and wealth. You will give Celestine my regards when next you see her.”
“Aye, Majesty.” Emma stared at her plate.
In an aside, Elizabeth muttered, “I took this young dullard in as a favor to my cousin, but I feel my generosity has been abused. This simpleton would better serve me if she were a pot of pretty flowers.”
There were snickers from several of those nearby who overheard. Conor coughed discreetly, hoping to muffle the sound of laughter from the poor girl’s ears. If she knew what had been said about her, she would be humiliated.
He picked up his wine, determined to distract the queen from any further thought of insulting the shy young maiden who continued to hang her head.
“I hear you are recently returned from Ireland, Lord Dunstan.”
“Aye.” Dunstan rolled his eyes. “And grateful to be back on English soil. The peasants there live in hovels we wouldn’t even use to shelter our livestock. They breed like field mice, surrounded by their dirty little offspring.”
He glanced around the table, enjoying the laughter from the others.
Conor carefully controlled his temper. “If you feel so strongly about them, I wonder why you go there.”
“As a loyal Englishman, I do it for my queen. Someone must deal with these savages.”
Conor’s tone was dry. “How lucky for England that you take such satisfaction in your work.”
Dunstan’s eyes flashed. “Aye. I do enjoy subduing those filthy animals. And why not? They plot and scheme against my queen.” He turned to Elizabeth, his voice dripping honey. “Let no man ever question my love and loyalty to the throne of England.”
Touched, Elizabeth squeezed his hand and glanced around the assembled at table. “Now you see why Lord Dunstan has known favor with me all these years.” She pushed away and the others got to their feet. “I believe I’m now ready for some entertainment.”
She placed her hand on Conor’s sleeve and allowed him to lead her to the ballroom, where the musicians were already assembled.
When the others entered, Conor noticed Emma walking timidly beside Lord Dunstan. He felt a flash of annoyance, then dismissed it. After all, the lass could have refused Dunstan’s invitation to sup with the queen. The fact that she was here must mean that she desired the man’s company. Still, she had the appearance of a lamb tossed to the wolves.
“Will you dance, Majesty?” Conor asked gallantly.
“Aye, my fine rogue. For I’m feeling especially lively tonight.”
They began to move through the intricate steps of the dance, while the others did the same. Across the room, Emma Vaughn was dancing with Dunstan. The gown she had chosen was pale pink, and was once again several sizes too large, making it extremely unattractive.
Elizabeth leaned close to whisper in Conor’s ear. “Did you see how lovingly Dunstan leaps to my defense?”
“Aye, Majesty.” He couldn’t keep his eyes off Emma, awkwardly attempting to follow Dunstan’s lead. Once or twice she actually stepped on the hem of her gown, nearly tripping both of them.
“I was truly moved by his words.”
Conor tore his gaze away and forced his attention back to the queen. “Words cost little, Majesty.”
“You would know that, wouldn’t you, my silver-tongued rogue. But Dunstan’s loyalty is unquestioned. It is for that reason that I reward him with gold and lavish estates.”
Conor saw Dunstan lean close to whisper something against Emma’s temple. Saw the girl pull back, as though stung. An icy chill raced along Conor’s spine. The man was known to be