Tags:
Romance,
Historical Romance,
Medieval,
trilogy,
Tudors,
Highlander,
Scottish Highlands,
henry viii,
jan coffey,
may mcgoldrick,
braveheart
I slept with him.” Elizabeth paused, making certain that every word left its mark. “I lost my virginity. And I’m glad of it. I enjoyed it. Do you want to see the proof now, or would you care to wait for your dear Sadie’s arrival? We both know she is far more experienced in dealing with your daughters. But perhaps you should see the blood of lost innocence first.”
Elizabeth reached inside the belt and began to draw out a kerchief.
“Hold!” Sir Thomas breathed heavily where he stood. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. His fists clenched tight. “How...how could you? No better than a common whore. How could you defy me this way?”
“Because my purity was not for you to sell. Damn it, I’m not for you to sell!” Elizabeth’s eyes never left his face. As her voice had earlier conveyed a calm and resolute chill, it now bore her full fury. “I did what I had to do. To save myself. Now I am no good to you or your king.”
“ My king?” he stormed, sputtering as he careened around the table toward her. “You—? With a filthy Scot?”
“Aye,” she said, standing her ground. “I was willing to sleep with your enemy rather than allow you to give me over to that syphilitic goat.”
With a roar, Sir Thomas lunged at his daughter, grabbing her by a long, thick lock of hair as she turned to evade his attack. Wheeling about, he smashed her face against the sharp edge of the table, and as he yanked her back again, Elizabeth saw her own blood flying in droplets into the darkness beyond the circle of light.
Sir Thomas turned her around in his rage and glared wildly into her bloodied face. His one hand still held Elizabeth by her mane. “Do you know what happens to those who defy me?” he rasped.
“Kill me,” she spat, her blood running in rivulets down her face and spreading on the pure white shirt. “No one is going to stop you. Kill me!” She fought back the tears that stung her eyes. “And I tell you now, I welcome this death. But then again, that shouldn’t surprise you. After all, I’m my mother’s daughter. But remember one thing. She preferred death to being away from you. But I...I long for the next world to get away from you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes teared in anger. Wiping her hand across her bloodied cheek, she smeared it on her father’s doublet as he stared at her. “People said she took away her life with her own hands. The truth is that the stain of her blood, the guilt for her suicide, lies with you. And it has marked you for life. So go ahead. Kill me. Add another chain to the bonds that await you in hell. Go ahead, murderer. Kill me !”
Repulsed, Sir Thomas shoved Elizabeth away from him. His hands moved up to his temples as he tried to stop the pounding in his head. He still remembered that grim day so long ago when he’d walked away from his beloved Catherine. She’d stopped him by the door, a sword in her hand, and had begged for him to end her life. She loved him truly. Looking into her tearful eyes, he had known that for certain. But he had simply taken the sword from her trembling hand and walked out the door. Three years later, her servant had found her dead in the same room, her wrists slashed. And Thomas Boleyn knew—he had always known—that Catherine Valmont was the only woman who had ever loved him.
Elizabeth stood a step away. The pain and burning in her face didn’t come close to the hurt and anger that she felt in her heart. “Draw your sword. Kill me where I stand.” Her body shook as she moved toward him, reaching for his sword. “Come, I’ll die with a smile. I welcome death over the future you planned for me.”
“ Get away from me !” he screamed, pushing her away again.
Elizabeth stumbled, righting herself as she saw the tent flap push open.
Madame Exton and the soldier stared, astonished by the sight before them. Before they could react, Elizabeth ran past them, pushing her cousin into the stack of boxes by the door.
Out into the night air she
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