Intrigued (45 page)
The next afternoon, in her brother’s apartments at Whitehall, Autumn said quietly, “The king has promised me a title and a home when Lady Barbara comes back to court. It will be wonderful!” She turned her gaze on George Villiers. “Will he really keep his promise, my lord?”
Villiers nodded. “Aye. He values loyalty, as you know. You have been loyal and kind to him in Barbara’s absence. Not only that, you have always been quite clear that you would step graciously aside when Barbara returns. If he says he will give you a title and a home, then he will.”
“I am glad,” Autumn replied, “for I am with child. But I wanted him to do it for me. Now I shall tell him my news without being fearful.”
“Well, damn me,” Buckingham said with a grin. “The man fathers brats like a tomcat. History repeats itself, eh, Charlie?”
The Duke of Lundy had grown pale. “Yes,” was all he said, but afterwards, when he was alone with Autumn, he berated her. “You did it deliberately so that no matter what you would get what you wanted, Autumn. I cannot believe you could be that callous!”
“Yes, I had to be sure,” she admitted, “but I like children, Charlie. I shall enjoy having one more before I retire from court and take up residence in my new home as Lady Whoever. Mayhap the king will give his child a title too. I feel completely different this time, Charlie. I have a son from the king. I know it!”
“Tell him tonight,” her brother said. “Tell him, or I will!”
“I will tell him,” Autumn promised. “Do you think he’ll be happy?”
“Why not?” her brother said sourly. “He likes children too, and your condition will but once again prove his virility.”
And the king was delighted by Autumn’s news. “When is the child due, do you think?” he asked her.
“Late August,” Autumn said. “I shall, with your majesty’s permission, withdraw from court when you order me.”
“Barbara’s little girl, Anne, was born just two weeks ago. She has said she will not return until the coronation. She is a good mother, I believe. When I know the day she means to return, I shall ask you to depart the day before. That way I do not distress either Barbara or you by the other’s presence.”
“I will give you a son,” Autumn said.
“Will you?” He was amused. “I like all children, lads or lasses, my darling girl. I shall be delighted with whatever comes.” Then he kissed her, and his hands moved to fondle her breasts. “I can feel these little fruits already ripening,” he purred and bent to salute them. “What pleasure you have given me, Autumn, for all your saucy and impudent ways,” he chuckled.
“You should not like me meek and mild,” she assured him, and he agreed that he wouldn’t.
The king could hardly wait to mention to his immediate circle of courtiers that his beautiful mistress, the Marquise d’Auriville, was expecting his child. He was congratulated all around as if he, himself, had performed some miracle. Autumn didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. She decided to find amusement in her situation, which was indeed the wiser course.
February passed, and then March. Lady Barbara sent word that she would be returning to Whitehall on the twentieth of April, three days before the coronation. Autumn prepared to depart from Whitehall on the eighteenth.
She was beginning to feel uncomfortable with her condition and wanted nothing more than to return to the country to await the birth of the child in August. She was concerned, for the king had not yet told her what her title would be, or where her house was located. She knew if the Duke of Buckingham said the king’s word was good, it would be good, but still she worried. Three days before she was to depart she sat by the king’s side while he diced with several of his friends. His luck had not been running well that evening, and dicing was not a game where men might cheat to allow the king to win. The Duke of Garwood’s luck, however, was running very well. Now only he and the king played.
The king tossed the ivories and the last of his coins vanished. “ ’Oddsfish!” he swore softly. Then he brightened. “Will you dice with me a final time, double or nothing, Gabriel? If I lose, you may choose your own forfeit—within reason, of course.” He grinned at his friend.
“I know your majesty for an honorable man,” the Duke of Garwood said. “I agree to your terms.” He handed the dice to the king.
Charles offered them to Autumn. “Give them a kiss for luck, darling,” he said to her with another grin.
With a smile, Autumn kissed the dice. “I’m not certain how fortunate my kiss will be,” she warned him.
Rolling the dice enthusiastically in his palm, the king threw them. When they came to a halt he grinned. “ ’Tis a hard point to beat, Gabriel,” he told the Duke of Garwood.
The duke nodded in agreement and tossed the ivories onto the table carelessly. There was a gasp from the other gentlemen who stood round the table watching. The duke’s toss had beaten the king’s.
“Well, damn me,” the king said softly. Then he looked up at his gaming partner. “You’ve beaten me fairly, Gabriel,” he said good-naturedly. “What will you have off me?”
“Your whore,”
the Duke of Garwood said quietly.
the Duke of Garwood said quietly.
“What?”
The king decided that he hadn’t heard aright.
The king decided that he hadn’t heard aright.
About the table his other companions were open-mouthed. Autumn was white with shock.
“I would have your whore, sire,” the Duke of Garwood drawled. “You are quite finished with her, aren’t you?”
The king nodded, still stunned by the request. But his facile mind was beginning to contemplate the possibilities.
Autumn jumped up. “How dare you, my lord? How dare you! I am not some street trull to be passed about from man to man!”
“You may have her,” the king said, “but under certain conditions. You are aware she is with child?
My child
. I will acknowledge it when it is born, and provide for it with a title of its own.”
My child
. I will acknowledge it when it is born, and provide for it with a title of its own.”
“Charles Stuart!”
Autumn’s voice was a shriek. “You cannot give me away as if I were a possession! Your promised me a title and my own home when I left you. You are a man of your word!”
Autumn’s voice was a shriek. “You cannot give me away as if I were a possession! Your promised me a title and my own home when I left you. You are a man of your word!”
“Madame,” the duke cautioned Autumn, “your tongue is sharper than my sword. This is the king to whom you speak.”
Your tongue is sharper than my sword.
The seven words slammed into her memory like a cannon burst. She gasped, disbelieving.
It was he!
Despite his dark fashionable curls, and his rich garb, she suddenly saw Sir Simon Bates in his severe dark suit, with his cropped head. Sir Simon Bates who had killed Charlie’s wife and servant.
The seven words slammed into her memory like a cannon burst. She gasped, disbelieving.
It was he!
Despite his dark fashionable curls, and his rich garb, she suddenly saw Sir Simon Bates in his severe dark suit, with his cropped head. Sir Simon Bates who had killed Charlie’s wife and servant.
“This man is not who he says he is. He is a murderer, and a traitor!” Autumn told the king. “Will you give me to such a man?”
“He is exactly who he says he is. Gabriel Bainbridge, the duke of Garwood,” the king said quietly to her. She had remembered.
“He is Sir Simon Bates, who murdered my brother’s wife!” Autumn cried dispairingly.
“He is Gabriel Bainbridge, who took his deceased cousin’s identity during the war in order to spy for me, and for my cause. The reputation attributed to him was manufactured in order that he seem fanatically loyal to Cromwell’s cause,” the king told the distraught young woman who now clutched at his velvet sleeve. “He did not kill Bess Stuart, or her servant. It was the trooper who disobeyed orders while he was elsewhere with the rest of his men. You know that is the truth, my darling, and you must face it. We have all lost love ones in Cromwell’s quest for power. They will not come back to us, Autumn. I never break my promises to a beautiful woman,” he cajoled her gently.
Autumn bit her lip to keep her tears from flowing before them. This Charles Stuart was every bit as good at winning over the ladies as was his uncle, and namesake, her brother. “I could learn to hate you, sire,” she told him with a touch of her old arrogance.
“You shall have a title and a home, madame,” the king told her with a smile. “If Gabriel Bainbridge wants you, he must marry you. That will make you the Duchess of Garwood. His home, while in the north, is lovely, I am told by those who have visited it.”
“No!” Autumn said stubbornly.
“Will you accept my terms, Gabriel? Will you marry this delightful vixen, make her your duchess, and take her from court for me?” the king asked his friend.
“I will, sire,” the Duke of Garwood said.
“Then it is settled,” the king agreed. “My debt to you both is met, eh?”
“It is not settled!” Autumn shouted. “I will never marry this man. I loved my late husband. I will only marry for love!”
“That,” the king said, “is a charming but most childish notion, darling. Marriages are a blend of wealth and power, first and foremost. The Duke of Garwood is your equal in rank, Autumn. He has a fine home, and you will enjoy being its mistress.”
“He will not wed me when he learns the conditions my family place on the betrothals of its females, sire; and I will marry no man unless those conditions are met,” Autumn said firmly.
“He may discuss that matter with your brothers, madame. I have kept my word to you both. You, Garwood, may indeed have my whore. And you, madame la marquise, have been given a title and a house.”
Suddenly Autumn burst out laughing, to everyone’s surprise. What else was she to do? She had been outflanked by her royal lover quite neatly. She could not appear a poor sport about it. She must accept the king’s will, and be remembered kindly “You are, sir, despite your French mama, a true Stuart. The Leslies of Glenkirk never do well in your service,” she said.
“What do you mean?” he asked her, amused by her words.
“My mother tells the story of when your grandfather, King James, raised my father’s earldom to a dukedom. King James said it was a fine present for my parents because it cost him naught. He said the Leslies had the castle and the lands already,” Autumn explained to them.
The king and his companions laughed heartily at the anecdote.
Then the king said, “So you will take the Duke of Garwood for a husband then, Autumn?”
“If he agrees to my family’s terms, your majesty, I think I have no other choice but to marry him if I am to have my title and my house,” she said. She was not happy, but Autumn was intelligent enough to know it was wiser to keep the king for a friend rather than an enemy. If Garwood would not agree—and she suspected he was too proud—then the fault lay not with her. She would buy her own house, and to hell with her English title. “And, sire, one more boon, I beg. I would prefer not to wed anyone until after my child is born.”
“I think that reasonable,” Garbriel Bainbridge said.
“Do you indeed, my lord?” Autumn snapped.
The king grinned. He had always liked Autumn’s independent streak, but he would not have enjoyed such an attitude in a wife. He wondered if the Duke of Garwood would enjoy it, but he had asked for Autumn and been given her. The royal debt was quite satisfied.
“You may escort madame la marquise back to Lynmouth House,” the king told the duke. Then he took Autumn’s two hands in his own. “I believe this is
adieu,
darling,” he told her. “You have been a delight, and I thank you for your generous nature. You shall always have Charles Stuart’s friendship, madame la marquise. Send me word when the child is born. Remember, you have promised me a son. What shall you name him?” The king’s amber eyes were twinkling.
adieu,
darling,” he told her. “You have been a delight, and I thank you for your generous nature. You shall always have Charles Stuart’s friendship, madame la marquise. Send me word when the child is born. Remember, you have promised me a son. What shall you name him?” The king’s amber eyes were twinkling.
“Louis,”
Autumn said wickedly.
Autumn said wickedly.
The king burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks. When he finally was able to gain control over himself again, he raised her hands to his lips and kissed them, saying, “I agree, madame.” Then he turned to the duke. “Take her home, Gabriel, before I change my mind. I will admit to you all that I have never had so much fun with a mistress as I have with madame la marquise.”
The duke offered his arm to Autumn. She gravely accepted it, and they turned to leave the card room. “I have a barge,” Gabriel Bainbridge said. “It might be easier for you, madame.”
“Then send a servant to tell my coach to return to Lynmouth House, my lord,” she answered him.
He nodded, and spoke with one of the footmen, who hurried off to do his bidding.
They walked down together to the royal quai, where the duke’s barge was called for and was rowed to the landing. He helped her down into the craft, joining her and seating her within the enclosed cabin, which had lisle glass windows. There were heated bricks beneath the padded leather seat and a fox lap robe.
“Was this barge part of the house when you received it?” she asked him.
“It was,” he answered her.
“Then it belonged to my great-grandmother,” Autumn said. “Greenwood was her home, and she gave it to my mother. The Protectorate had no right to give it away.”
“Well, madame,” he told her, “when you are my wife it will belong to you, and that, I suspect, will solve the problem.”
Autumn grew silent again as the barge was rowed upriver from Whitehall to the strand. It was the time between the tides and the water was calm. The vessel glided along smoothly. Finally she said, “You will not agree to my family’s terms, you know.”
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