Blood of the Rose (37 page)

Rhys grimaced. “An English title.”

“An English title bestowed upon you by a Welsh king. I do not believe it would be wise to refuse such an honor,” Christopher said gently.

Rhys stared at his elaborately inscribed name. “It doesn’t sit well with me. My country has been destroyed by the English monarchy. What will they think of me at home if I come back with a title?”

“If they have any sense, they will welcome your elevation.”

“I suppose I have no choice but to accept this honor and make the best of it.” Rhys sat back and contemplated his hosts. “Was that why you called me, Rosalind?”

She frowned at him. “That isn’t enough for you?” She shared a quick glance with Christopher. “Unfortunately, the other news isn’t so good. We had a letter from Elias Warner.”

“He’s still at court, I presume.” Rhys said.

While Anne Boleyn was alive, Rhys had visited the court infrequently, knowing Anne would exact vengeance on all those she believed had tricked her into giving up her quest to turn the king into a Vampire.

“Elias is still there, looking out for the interests of the Vampire Council.”

“And why did he write to you?”

Rosalind handed him Elias’s letter. “He is concerned that there is a plot afoot to destroy Queen Jane.” Rosalind’s hand went to her own rounded belly. “All is not well with her and he fears she will not live long enough to deliver the king’s child.”

“If she is ill, there need be no plot nor Vampire at fault.” But in truth an uneasy feeling stirred in Rhys’s gut.

“You may be right, but we must investigate. He asks us to return to court and help discover what ails the queen.”

Christopher stirred and put his hand over Rosalind’s. “Rosalind and I can’t leave the protection of the manor house and the stone circle. We have to think of the babe, and Nicholas, of course—he needs to be protected at all times, Rhys. You know that. And while Rosalind is breeding, I am the only person who can take on that responsibility.”

Rhys let out a frustrated breath. Rosalind and Christopher’s son, Nicholas, was now six and a delightfully normal child—apart from his abilities to sense the undead and communicate his thoughts directly to his parents. Despite their attempts to conceal his interesting powers, both the Druids and the Vampires were aware of him, and that was not good. Only the protection of the stone circle that surrounded the village and the manor house kept the Vampires at bay. Leaving Nicholas without the protection of at least one strong slayer could be disastrous.

Rhys straightened his spine. “So you think I should go and represent us all. But I’m not a Llewellyn. I have no special access to the king or the queen. Would not your cousin Jasper be the better choice?”

Rosalind produced another letter and showed it to Rhys. “Jasper has been wounded and has returned to Pembrokeshire.”

“Then who, in God’s name, is guarding the king?”

“His sister, Verity. She wrote to me to explain what had happened to Jasper and to ask for my help.”

“Little Verity Llewellyn?” Rhys shook his head. “What does she know about fighting Vampires? The last I heard of her she was getting married.”

“She is a widow and has come to court to serve the king and queen. She felt it was her duty.”

Rhys snatched the letter out of Rosalind’s hand and read it impatiently. “She should’ve stayed home, minding her own business. How does she think she can help? She has no training, and no ability to fight.”

He pictured Verity in his mind, her sweet face, her long blond hair and shy smile. They’d shared a childhood in the rambling Welsh manor house of Sir John Llewellyn, along with Rosalind and her siblings. The thought of Verity running into even the most inept of Vampires made his blood run cold. He placed the letter on the table and smoothed it out with his fingers.

“It seems as if I have no choice. Someone has to stop Verity Llewellyn from doing something foolish.”

Rosalind gave him a relieved smile. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to go. Verity will definitely need your help.”

Rhys shoved a hand through his damp auburn hair and groaned. “I just hope I am not so busy acting as her nurse-maid that I have no time to deal with this problem with the queen.”

Christopher gathered up the documents and separated them into two piles. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, Sir Rhys. With your new status you will be able to mingle more freely with the gentlemen of the court, and Verity is already established as one of the queen’s ladies.”

Rhys studied Verity’s neat handwriting. She’d written in Welsh, which was as good as code, as most Englishmen couldn’t understand it. He tried to remember how long it had been since he had seen her, how long since he’d returned to the only home he’d ever known.

“How old
is
Verity now?”

Rosalind looked up at him. “She is of a similar age to me, I believe—about five and twenty.”

“And she hasn’t married again?”

“Not all women wish to be married, Rhys. Maybe she loved her first husband so desperately, she has sworn never to have another.”

“And maybe she is just contrary, like most of the Llewellyn women,” Christopher murmured, then grunted as his wife elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m certain she will be glad to see you, Rhys, and more than willing to learn anything you can teach her. I imagine she only means to remain at court until Jasper is recovered.”

Rhys nodded and took the papers Christopher had given him to take back to his bedchamber to study them further. He went up the worn staircase to his rooms deep in thought. If Elias was worried enough to contact the Druids, things must have been dire indeed. The thought of Verity being alone at court surrounded by such evil made Rhys shudder.

He surveyed his meager possessions and packed them into his saddlebags. In his career as a Vampire slayer he’d learned not to become attached to possessions or to people. Apart from Rosalind, and where had that led him? He thrust that thought away and flexed his left arm. His wound had healed well and it was time for him to leave.

Rhys started cleaning his weapons and stowing them away in his pack. If he was lucky, he might be able to persuade Verity to go home straightaway and then deal quickly with the situation himself. He smiled as he gathered his daggers up to take to the smithy for sharpening. Knowing how sweet and malleable Verity was, he didn’t anticipate much of a problem.

Richmond Palace

Rhys tugged irritably at the stiff linen shirt Rosalind had insisted on making him to go with his new doublet and hose. Despite his birth, he was far more accustomed to playing the servant than the master, and he felt decidedly out of place. It was already hot in the packed outer court of the king’s audience chamber, where he waited with all the other hopeful petitioners to be seen by his monarch. Christopher had instructed him to present his new papers to the king’s official and wait to be escorted into the royal presence.

“Sir Rhys Williams?”

“Aye.” He looked up at the man dressed in black who had called out his name, and with some difficulty, pushed his way through the crowded room.

“The king will see you now.”

Rhys managed a grateful smile and followed the court official past the guards and into the relative quiet of the king’s presence chamber. Of course, the king was never alone, being constantly attended to by the gentlemen of his bedchamber and members of his Privy Council, but at least Rhys could breathe more freely.

“Ah, Sir Rhys. It is a pleasure to welcome you back to court.”

“Your Majesty does me great honor.” Rhys stepped forward and knelt at the king’s feet. Rubies glinted on the king’s leather shoes.

“You may rise, Sir Rhys.”

Rhys stood and fixed his gaze on the king’s massive chest. It was only the second time he’d been this close to King Henry, and he felt the power and authority that radiated from him.

“I have received a letter from Lord Christopher Ellis recommending you to my service, Sir Rhys.”

“I would be honored to serve you in whatever capacity you require, Your Majesty.” Rhys hated the obsequiousness in his voice, but what else could he do? In order to save the king from the Vampire threat, he needed to be as close to him as the Vampires.

“My chamberlain will find you a suitable position.”

“Thank you, sire.” Rhys bowed low again and backed away as the next petitioner was announced. He would not share Elias Warner’s concerns with the king until he had spoken both to the Vampire and to Verity Llewellyn. There might be nothing amiss at all.

One of the king’s gentlemen touched his shoulder when he reached the door. “Sir Rhys, you may lodge in the east tower with the other single gentlemen. Send your servant with your bags to Master Hugh Fraser and he will assist you.”

“Thank you.” Rhys found himself smiling as he walked away. He hadn’t brought a servant with him, only his horse, Artio, so he supposed he would be unloading and taking his own bags to Master Fraser. He paused and beckoned to one of the pages who was passing through the hall.

“Where are the queen and her ladies, boy?”

“They are in the pleasure gardens, sir.”

Rhys was already familiar with the layout of the palace, so he had no difficulty finding his way to the gardens. His thoughts turned to the last time he had been at court, and to beautiful Olivia Del Alonso, Christopher’s half sister. He had never spoken of her with Christopher but often wondered what had become of her. Was she still at court and would she remember him? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see her or not. She’d seemed so young for a Vampire and so . . . unspoiled. Seven years might have changed her into a hardened killer who would be happy to suck him dry. One never knew with Vampires.

He shaded his eyes against the bright sunlight and searched until he found a cluster of well-dressed ladies sitting in the shade of some oak trees.

Queen Jane was easy enough to spot. She sat in the center of her ladies and wore a gray silk gown stitched with pearls, which matched those on her gable headdress. Rhys had no memory of meeting Jane Seymour before she had married the king, but even he could see that she looked pale and tired.

He approached the group, and waited until one of the ladies drew the queen’s attention in his direction. When she gestured for him to approach, he moved closer and went down on one knee.

“I apologize for disturbing you, Your Majesty. I am Sir Rhys Williams. I wished to make myself known to you, and to a distant cousin of mine whom I believe is among your ladies.”

The queen’s smile was small but polite. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Rhys. Which one of my ladies is your kinswoman?”

Rhys smiled back. “I wish it were all of them, Your Majesty, but I seek Lady Verity Llewellyn.”

“Lucky Verity,” someone whispered as Rhys tried not to react to the wave of feminine interest surrounding him.

“I am here, Your Grace.”

Rhys looked up as a woman stepped out from the shadows and came toward him. Her long blond hair was contained by a French hood, and her wary blue gaze was fixed squarely on his face. She was taller than Rosalind and her figure was more rounded, but she had the same remarkable grace.

Queen Jane waved Rhys to his feet. “Mayhap you would wish to speak to your cousin in private, Sir Rhys. You may walk with her in the gardens, but make sure you bring her back before we retire inside.”

Rhys bowed low. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He offered his arm to Verity. “My lady?”

Anticipation shuddered through Verity as she rested her fingers on the silk sleeve of Rhys’s brown doublet. He led her back toward the main path that ran around the edge of the garden. She’d almost not recognized him. In the ten years since they’d last met, his skinny frame had filled out and he seemed at ease with both his height and his body. There was an air of command about him now and an edge of hardness to his mouth.

His silk doublet was modestly adorned with black embroidery and cut to flatter his broad shoulders. Unlike some of the gentlemen at court he needed no padding to exaggerate the curve of his calves or to plump out his chest. A workmanlike sword rode on his hip and she guessed that like most Vampire slayers, he had a silver-tipped dagger or two concealed about his person as well.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, my lady.”

His soft Welsh accent warmed her. He reminded her of home and safety, of the innocent girl she had been before her marriage. It made her want to fling herself into his arms and beg for his help. But it would not be wise to allow him to think she was weak. She still had no idea why he was here, or what he wanted from her.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, too—is it Sir Rhys now?”

“I have lately been made a baronet.”

“How exciting. When did you return to court?”

“I returned this morning.” He hesitated and looked down at her, his hazel eyes careful. “I am here on a matter of great importance to us both.”

Verity felt a flush come over her face. She attempted a flirtatious laugh and flattened her hand over her jeweled bodice. “I hope you are not an emissary from my grandfather. I have told him a thousand times that I have no wish to entertain any more suitors.”

“Of course not. I would never even think—” Rhys’s stunned expression and stuttering denial made Verity want to kick him.

“Oh. Of course you have not. I was only teasing.” She squeezed his arm and felt the muscles tense beneath the fine fabric. “Why would you ever think of me in those terms? You only had eyes for my cousin Rosalind.”

A flush darkened Rhys’s pale skin and he looked away from her. “Your cousin Rosalind is very happily married to another man.”

“She married an Ellis. How could she be happy?”

“Trust me, she is.”

“You have seen her since her marriage?”

He paused and then glanced around to check that they were alone. Shade from the elm trees that grew along the side of the path put his face into half shadow. “That is why I am here. Rosalind asked me to come and assist you.”

“She received my letter?” At his nod she continued. “Why couldn’t she come herself? Did her husband forbid her?”

“He most certainly did.”