Blood of the Rose (38 page)
“And you allowed him to treat her like that?”
“Rosalind is an extremely bloodthirsty woman, but even she wouldn’t consider herself capable of fighting Vampires in the seventh month of her pregnancy.”
“Oh”—Verity stared at him—“I can see that might be a hindrance.”
Rhys nodded. “Which is why she sent me. I understand your brother Jasper has been injured and that you have gallantly offered to take his place guarding the king and queen. You need no longer worry about that.”
Something about the way he spoke to her—kind but dismissive—made her feel small and unnecessary. She raised her chin so that she could look into his eyes and found her attention wandering to the dark auburn of his hair and the way the sunlight brought out the copper and crimson in it.
She forced herself to focus and struggled to appear confident. “There is always supposed to be a member of the Llewellyn family guarding the king and queen. It is our duty.”
“I know that.” He hesitated. “But some of the Llewellyn family have trained their whole lives to protect the monarchy.”
“And some of them have not.” She paused. “Like me, you mean.”
“I’m sure your intentions are good, Verity, but in all conscience, I can hardly allow you to risk your life in the service of the Tudors when you have no real notion of what you are doing.” He patted her cheek. “It is not a simple task. I trained with Rosalind for years before she became such an accomplished Vampire slayer.”
Anger gathered like a fist in Verity’s chest. As a child she’d idolized Rhys, had built silly fantasies around how he would marry her one day and they would live happily ever after. Even when she’d realized he was smitten with Rosalind, she thought given the chance she could change his mind. If only she’d really known what an arrogant, patronizing man he would turn out to be, she would have saved herself hours of useless daydreaming.
“I am a Llewellyn. You are not,” she said as icily as she could. “As a Druid, your duty is to me and my family.”
His brows drew together and he looked genuinely puzzled. “And I am offering to do my duty.”
“And dismissing my help.”
All traces of amiability disappeared from his face, and she could see the hard strength and purpose beneath the charm. When had he become such an inflexible man? What had changed him?
“My lady, I do not need your help.”
“Are you quite sure about that? As a Llewellyn, I have access to the king and the queen that you will
never
have. You need me more than you realize, Sir Rhys.” She glared at him. “In fact, perhaps you are the one who is superfluous here and should leave.”
Before he could reply, Verity deliberately looked past him toward the queen’s party and bobbed a curtsy. “I have to go in now. The queen is retiring. It was a pleasure to see you again, cousin, and I wish you Godspeed on your journey home.”
She whisked past him and headed for the safety of the queen’s ladies. Indignation filled her thoughts. How dared he presume that she was useless? He hadn’t seen her for ten years and his immediate assumption was that because she was female she would only hinder his cause? Had he ever thought that about Rosalind? Somehow she doubted it. Verity wanted to smack his patronizing face but contented herself with walking away from him as if he had never existed.
Rhys remained rooted to the spot and watched Verity chatter to her companions as she walked into the palace. In the sunlight her hair held every color from white to brown gilded with gold like a ripening field of wheat. He wanted to go after her and demand she listen to him but he suspected her answer would have been the same.
He cursed under his breath and headed back to the stables, where he had left his horse and his bags. Unfortunately, some of what Verity had said was true. He did need her cooperation if he truly wanted to solve this mystery of what was wrong with the queen.
It never paid to underestimate a woman, especially a Llewellyn, but he feared he had already fallen into that trap. Christopher would have been amused, but Rhys should’ve known better. Now he would have to charm his way back into her good graces.
He threw a coin to the stable boy who had been watching his possessions and picked up his bags. Not that charming Verity Llewellyn would be a hardship. She was as beautiful as he had remembered—and he’d always enjoyed a challenge.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kate Pearce
was born into a large family of girls in England, and spent much of her childhood living very happily in a dreamworld. Despite being told that she really needed to “get with the program,” she graduated from the University College of Wales with an honors degree in history. A move to the U.S. finally allowed her to fulfill her dreams and sit down and write that novel. Along with being a voracious reader, Kate loves trail riding with her family in the regional parks of Northern California. Kate is a member of RWA and is published by NAL, Kensington Aphrodisia, Ellora’s Cave, Cleis Press, and Virgin Black Lace/Cheek.
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