Kiss of the Rose (3 page)

“Sir, the queen is in the gardens. If you insist on being difficult, why don’t we go and find her? Then you can make your apology and be done with it.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

Rosalind met his gaze, her own unflinching.“Then let go of me.”

“Not until you tell me your name.” He inhaled slowly and his blue eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her face. As if he couldn’t help himself, he trailed his fingers along the line of her jaw, paused to feather his thumb over her lower lip.

“It must be Helen, because your beauty is unsurpassed.” He leaned in closer until his lips almost brushed hers.

She resisted the urge to nip his thumb, instinct telling her that inviting him into her mouth wouldn’t be wise. Was he trying to intimidate her, or was he as intrigued by her as she was by him? She managed an unsteady breath. For some reason, his mere presence made it difficult for her to remember her own name, let alone why she was annoyed with him.

“Do you normally kiss any woman you find unprotected?”

His smile was an invitation to sin. “Only the pretty ones. Now tell me your name.”

“Why is it so important for you to know who I am?”

“So that I can couch my apology to you in an appropriately abject manner?”

She couldn’t help herself. Her mouth quirked up at the corners. “I am Lady Rosalind Llewellyn.”

He dropped her arm abruptly.
“Llewellyn?”

“Indeed.”

He started to laugh, his teeth white and even against his tanned skin. “I don’t believe it.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

He bowed low and stepped away from the door.“Just that I was expecting someone far more… exciting.”

Rosalind glared at his handsome laughing face. “I do not excite you? In truth, I am relieved to hear that, as I find you rude, ignorant, and totally beneath my interest.”

His expression sobered. “Oh, you’ll find me of inter-est, my lady. I’m Sir Christopher Ellis. I’m sure your grandfather has spoken of my family.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Oh, but she did, and the thought was utterly terrifying. She fisted her hands within the folds of her gown.

“You are lying, Lady Rosalind.Your kind has lived in fear of mine for generations.”

“My
kind
?”

“You know what I mean, my lady.” He bowed again. “But I’m not going to discuss it here.”

Her cheeks heated at the implication that she was naive enough to speak openly about her family’s secrets in the queen’s bedchamber. “
You
accosted
me
, sir. I was merely reacquainting myself with the queen’s domain, with her permission, of course.”

“Of course.” He stepped back and she forced herself to step past him calmly, without betraying her unease. “How old
are
you?”

She should have kept walking, but found herself looking back over her shoulder to get one last glimpse of his long, elegant frame lounging in the doorway. “That’s none of your business.”

“True, but I was anticipating a challenge, a worthy competitor, and instead I get… a child.”

“Do you often kiss children?”

“I didn’t kiss you.” He slowly straightened. “Though you could sorely use it.And I think I might enjoy kissing you— if you weren’t a cursed Llewellyn.”

This time, Rosalind kept moving. When the occasion arose, she would enjoy shoving his mocking words down his throat. How dared he suggest she needed kissing? And how dared he underestimate her fighting skills? But that was the way of all men. As the first Druid female born with the mark of Awen, she had worked twice as hard to earn the respect of her teachers and her grandfather.

She reached the palace gardens and drew in great big gulps of fresh air. He might think himself superior to her and he might be the most handsome man she had ever seen, but it made no difference. If it came down to a fight between her and Sir Christopher Ellis, she would win.

“The king will see you now.”

Rosalind entered the small private chamber, sank into a low, graceful curtsy, and held it, her gaze fixed on the dusty floorboards. “Your Majesty.”

“Lady Rosalind.”

King Henry took her hand and brought her upright. He towered over her, his chest twice the width of hers, his thighs in their tight brown hose as thick as her waist. She blinked at his doublet, which was embroidered with golden thread and costly embedded jewels, and slowly raised her eyes to his face. Four years had changed him, had deepened the suspicion in his hooded eyes, pursed his small, petulant mouth, and added flesh to his once pure profile.

“According to my chief gentleman of the bedchamber, if the need arises, members of your family are always to be given immediate access to my presence.Why is that? I wonder.”

Henry led her across to the fireplace and then took possession of the only chair. Rosalind clasped her hands together and faced him.

“I believe it is because of the relationship between my grandfather, Lord John Llewellyn, and your father, the late king.”

“So I’ve been told.” The king’s keen gaze traveled over her, and she forced herself to look steadily back at him. “Lord John served my father faithfully and received many honors for his loyalty.”

“That is true, sire, and we are very grateful for your royal patronage.”

“I assume your grandfather wishes you to resume your duties at court and perhaps catch a husband this time, eh?”

Rosalind bit her lip. “He does, sire, but there is another reason.”

The king’s expression darkened and inwardly Rosalind winced. It was well known that King Henry considered himself intellectually superior to most men. The idea that a mere woman knew something he didn’t wouldn’t sit well.

“By your leave, Your Majesty.” She held out the sealed parchment her grandfather had given her. The king took it and turned it over.

“This is my father’s royal seal.”

“Yes, sire. King Henry wrote the letter and gave it to my grandfather for safekeeping.”

“But it is addressed to me.”

“Yes, sire.”

The king looked up. “Do you know what the letter says?”

“Some of it, sire, but not the exact words. As you can see, the seal is intact.”

The king slid the blade of his dagger under the seal, unfolded the parchment, and began to read. Rosalind tried to relax and watched as a bee banged endlessly against one of the tightly closed leaded windows. She itched to set it free, but she couldn’t move until the king finished reading the letter.

After a long while, the king lifted his head. “This is madness.”

“I know it seems a little unusual, sire, but— ”

“
Unusual?
This letter suggests that my father acquired his throne using sorcery.” His hand clenched around the parchment, crumpling it within his massive palm. “Is this an attempt to blackmail me?”

Rosalind swallowed hard. “No, sire. It is the truth written in your father’s own hand.”

“The hand of a lunatic, rather. God knows my father was many things, but he was as sane as you or I.” The king rose to his feet and started pacing the opulent room. “It must be a forgery.”

Rosalind gathered her courage. “Sire, it is the truth. I swear on the Bible.”

King Henry swung around to confront her and she forced herself not to cringe. “These creatures your family is supposed to protect me from, these
Vampires
. How is it that I’ve never seen one?”

“Because my grandfather protected your family so well.”

“A convenient answer, my lady, but hardly a convincing one.” The king started to pace again. “Is that why you have returned, then? To save me from these monsters?”

“Yes, sire.”

His laughter was meant to hurt and to humiliate. “
You
? How old are you, sixteen?”

Rosalind raised her chin.“I’m almost twenty, sire, and I’ve trained my entire life to protect you from the Vampire threat.”

The king glared at her. “This is ridiculous, a fairy tale, an abomination perpetuated in my father’s holy memory.”

“It is the truth,” Rosalind repeated. “My own father died in this service.” She couldn’t fail her family now, couldn’t return to Wales and admit she’d been unable to convince the king to let her guard him. It had been difficult enough to persuade her father to train her as a Vampire slayer, being as she was a girl, and not the eldest son he had hoped and prayed for.

“If you don’t want to believe me, sire, will you at least let me stay at court?”

“To protect me?”

“If the need arises, yes.”

His biting sarcasm made her want to lower her eyes and concede defeat, but her cause was too important. The king had no idea the havoc a nest of Vampires could create or how vulnerable he truly was. It was her job to ensure that he never did.

He held her gaze, his golden eyes so cold she suppressed a shiver. “And if I should suspect this is just an attempt to gain my trust and then assassinate me? It would be a simple enough matter to have your whole family executed.”

Rosalind tried to swallow.“That is true, sire. But your father swore an oath to protect my family, as we protect yours.” In desperation she glanced down at her left hand and pushed up her sleeve. “Do you remember your father having a mark like this on his wrist?”

The king leaned closer to look.“Yes, I believe he did,” he said grudgingly. “It says in the letter that the Druids marked him with the sign of Awen when he accepted their bargain.”

“That is correct, sire. My family has the same mark, although some of us are born with it.”

“This is madness. My father is dead. I am king now.”

“Of course,Your Majesty. But… are you prepared to risk his heavenly displeasure and the wrath of the Druids if you break his sacred vow?”

The king glared down at her for a long endless moment. “You are a brave little thing, aren’t you?”

Rosalind lowered her eyes respectfully.“My grandfather describes me as headstrong and willful.”

“And he is right.”The king sighed.“I will read the let-ter again, and see if I can make any more sense of it.”

Rosalind took a step toward him. “If it pleases you, sire, the contents are for your eyes alone. No one else should know about this.”

“ ‘If it pleases me…’ You are an impertinent chit, aren’t you?”

“I am only trying to protect you, sire.” Despite the fact that her knees were shaking, Rosalind risked a hopeful smile. “And may I have your permission to stay at court?”

Henry nodded as he folded the letter and tucked it into a leather pouch hung around his waist.“You may attend the queen. I cannot have you following me around like a lost dog.”

She had no intention of doing otherwise. By all reports, the latest Vampire threat came from within the aging queen’s court. “I understand, sire, but if you ever have need of me, please do not hesitate to let me know.”

The king laughed, his good humor apparently restored. “In case one of those creatures you supposedly hunt jumps out at me?”

Rosalind’s tentative smile died. “If one of the Vampires gets that close, it would probably be too late to save you, sire.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “That dangerous, aye?”

“Indeed, sire.” She knew he was humoring her, but there was nothing she could do about it. She could only hope that when the time came, she would be able to protect him.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” She curtsied low and backed out of the room, leaving him staring after her. She stumbled into the anteroom and let out her breath. A hundred pairs of eyes studied her, assessed the success of her meeting with the king, and gauged his mood from hers.

With a gracious smile, she nodded at Sir Richard and walked out into the palace gardens. Her knees suddenly gave way and she sank onto the nearest bench with an audible thump. The king was even more formidable than she remembered, his power palpable and his threat to destroy her all too real.

She shivered at the thought of her grandfather and younger siblings rotting in jail or, even worse, facing execution. Would the king become more amenable when he read the letter again, or would he rescind his permission for her to reside at court?

Rosalind’s heart fluttered against the stiff brocade of her bodice and she concentrated on slowing her breath. She had to find Rhys, tell him what had happened with the king, and, even more important, reveal the unexpected presence of one of her family’s most deadly enemies.

Chapter 2

R
osalind managed to avoid the queen’s party by taking a shortcut through the kitchen gardens to the stables situated behind the oldest wing of the palace. She paused behind a low brick wall covered in ivy and whistled. The lyrical song of a blackbird floated back to her, and she followed the sound to the farthest stall in the stables.

“Rhys?”

“In here, my lady.” Her redheaded groomsman pushed his way past the horse he was brushing and emerged at the door of the stall. “What’s wrong?”

Rosalind paused to take a deep steadying breath, one hand braced on the door. “Why do you assume something is wrong?”

He studied her, his head cocked to one side.“Because your face is all red and you are panting.”

“I might’ve been running for pleasure.”

His grin was taunting. “The only time I’ve ever seen you run was from six— ”

Rosalind brought her finger to her lips. “You don’t know who might be listening.”

Rhys chuckled. “Indeed, who knows what this horse might tell the other horses tonight?”

“I’m serious. We’re not at home now and we have to be careful.”

“Are you being careful with your reputation as well? Chasing me down in the stables might raise a few eyebrows.”

Rosalind sighed. “You’re right. I should have been more circumspect, but I was so worried…”

Rhys took her hand and opened the door of an empty stall.“We can talk in here.The horses will warn us if anyone approaches.”

Rosalind was grateful for his calm strength. He was five years older than she was, but they had become close in the years she’d lived at home to nurse her mother. When he heard she was to return to court, he’d offered his services as her groomsman and servant. He came from another old Druid family and was well versed in the art of destroying Vampires. Rosalind had once wondered if he resented her because she bore the mark of Awen, but he’d never shown any sign of it.With his fighting skills and her ability to scent Vampire activity— not to mention her special access to the king— they were a formidable team.