she had no right to be critical.
But she would not be put in her place.
Take care he does not burn you to cinders. Some men, as I know to my cost, are impossible to withstand.
All I intended was to practice the arts of courtly love. And with so personable a man. I had no intention of being a burnt offering on the altar of John Holland’s male pride.
So have many women said. Particularly, of late, the Duchess of …
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
But she would not be put in her place.
Take care he does not burn you to cinders. Some men, as I know to my cost, are impossible to withstand.
All I intended was to practice the arts of courtly love. And with so personable a man. I had no intention of being a burnt offering on the altar of John Holland’s male pride.
So have many women said. Particularly, of late, the Duchess of …
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
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