What A Rogue Wants (9 page)

“
As the queen does to me!”
Madelaine stopped before the dining room hall. Everything she had
just learned vied for attention inside her head. Ordering her
thoughts was difficult, but she forced herself to the task. “Yet my
mother was not thrown from Court? How could it be if she openly
needled the queen?”

“
Because the queen knew
better than to demand such a thing from the king. His Majesty and
your father were close even then.”

“
So the king didn’t know
of the trouble between my mother and the queen?”

“
No. Never.”

That explained why Madelaine’s father
insisted she come to Court to find a proper husband even if it
didn’t necessarily explain why her father seemed to want to have
her married off so quickly. She had thought to have a Season when
their mourning was over, but he had been steadfast that Court was
where she should be. He’d said she would not be one of many
debutantes here, but one of a few honored ladies-in-waiting,
therefore she should be betrothed right away. He had no inkling the
men at Court would rather seduce than propose nor did he know the
queen had hated his wife.

If he only knew. Madelaine pushed the
errant thought away. She could never tell her father. It would
devastate him to think the queen had hated Mother and Mother had
deceived him by never telling him. It didn’t matter anyway. She had
a debt to pay to her parents and a duty to fulfill. “My mother’s
lack of punishment must have eaten at the queen all these
years.”

“
Now you see. The queen
never got retribution as she wished, so now she punishes
you.”

“
It’s
hopeless.”

“
You give up too easily,”
Helen chided.

“
What must she do?” Lady
Elizabeth asked.

The dining room door opened suddenly
and the noise from within rolled into the corridor like the hum of
a thousand birds’ wings flapping in unison. Lady Helen faced
Madelaine. “Prove your loyalty to the queen above everyone else,
and then you will have her forgiveness and her loyalty.”

“
How am I supposed to do
that?” Madelaine called to Helen’s departing figure.

Helen paused and turned back to her.
“I don’t have all the answers. Bide your time. It will come. It
always does if one is patient enough.”

Madelaine trudged behind Elizabeth to
their appointed table. As Elizabeth took a seat across from Lord
Thorton, he grinned lecherously at Madelaine and patted the seat
beside him. She sat and his hand immediately found her knee under
the table. She retaliated by swatting him away as discreetly as she
could.

She didn’t have a single moment to
bide. She needed the queen’s favor. Without it, she dare not
whisper a word of Lord Thorton’s attempts to take advantage of her.
If the queen disliked her, that bit of information could easily be
manipulated to make her look like she lacked morals.

When Lord Thorton’s hand found her leg
again and massaged her knee, she picked up her fork, discreetly
slid it under the bench and pressed the prongs into his flesh as
hard as she could. His hand ceased moving. She raised her gaze to
meet his―sure he would be glaring at her, but the man stared as if
she were the choicest piece of meat he’d ever seen. Disgust rolled
through her. Immediately, she released the fork and the pressure of
his hand lifted from her leg. If only she had her dagger then maybe
he would see her as a danger instead of a conquest. Tomorrow, she
would secure it under her dress in case she encountered him
again.

As she took a large sip of wine from
her goblet, he pressed his lips by her ear. She darted a quick gaze
around. Thank God everyone was busily engaged in their own
conversation. “I like feisty women,” he said in a slur of already
consumed wine.

“
You’ll find me deadly,
not feisty,” she hissed, meaning every word. She quickly stuffed a
chunk of bread in her mouth to avoid more conversation with him.
But as she chewed, he slid closer. The sticky heat of his body
enveloped her. Her stomach turned and she could not swallow the
hunk of bread in her mouth.

She couldn’t wait any longer. Time was
her enemy. If things stayed as they were, she would be forced to
drastic measures. She had excellent aim and had no doubt she could
hit Lord Thorton if he tried to corner her alone and ravish her.
But it would be deuced hard to fulfill her mother’s wish and not
disappoint her father if she was hung for murder. And blast hell
with ice, her life may not be all she had hoped so far, but living
was far more preferable than death.

Grey awoke the next morning in a sour
mood. Who wouldn’t be in a sour mood if they had been forced to go
to bed hungry because they’d waited until near midnight to see the
king. Grey rubbed his aching back. Someone needed to purchase more
comfortable chairs in the king’s receiving chamber. Of course,
comfortable chairs wouldn’t be necessary if the king actually
granted audiences to those he’d commanded to appear on specific
days at very specific times. The most frustrating part of his night
though wasn’t the dinner. Dinner he could live without. Lack of
food he could quickly amend. And he intended to shortly. Missed
opportunities were harder to fix. And he’d missed the opportunity
to speak more with Lady Madelaine. But he’d dreamed about
her.

His cock hardened in remembrance. He
smiled recalling the balmy weather, blue skies and Lady Madelaine’s
skillful mouth and hands. The fantasy had been vivid. But when he
threw off his covers cold air swept over him and chased away the
remnants of his dream. Reality made him frown. The last thing he
wanted to do today was return to the king’s chambers to once again
wait idly and uncomfortably to be granted an audience the king
himself had commanded, but wait he would. Like an obedient
dog.

Grey growled as he groped around for
his trousers. He stomped toward his bag, pulled out a shirt,
whipped it through the air to dislodge some of the wrinkles and
pulled it over his head. As he thudded back to the bed and located
his boots, Gravenhurst sat up in the bed next to Grey’s. And then a
slighter figure with a distinctly flowery smell sat up beside
Gravenhurst.

Grey chuckled to himself. At least one
of them had not wasted their first night at Court. “Good morning,
Gravenhurst.”

“
By all accounts it should
be,” Gravenhurst grumbled.

“
Did your company keep you
up too late?” Grey didn’t bother to conceal the sarcasm in his
voice.

A derisive, feminine snort came from
the woman. The brown blanket covering her head fell to her
shoulders. Grey couldn’t quite make out the color of her eyes in
the lingering predawn shadows of the room, but a streak of sunlight
cutting through the air from the stained-glass window touched the
top of her head. By damned she had the reddest hair he’d ever seen.
But a pretty red, like fine burgundy.

“
Lord Gravenhurst kept me
up, not the other way around.” Her tone held amusement. “I was
begging for sleep.”

“
I imagine you were,
Lady…?”

“
It’s kind of you to grant
me the courtesy, but we both know I’m no lady, don’t “we?” The
woman rose from the bed with the blanket wrapped around her slender
figure, but low enough that a good portion of her ample breasts
showed. Grey didn’t turn away. If she wanted to display her wares,
he’d be happy to look, but that didn’t mean he’d be buying. The sun
now hit her full on in the face, and amusement filled her green,
slanted eyes. This was a lady who enjoyed being stared at. She was
not a lady in the class of someone like Lady Madelaine, but no
average chit either. He had had met plenty of both kinds of women
and this fiery wench was bold as brass and not a wink ashamed of
waking up naked as the day she was born in front of two men, one
definitely a stranger and one a semi-stranger. “Do you work in the
castle?”

“
I do.”

“
Talkative chit, aren’t
you?”

She shrugged. “Most men I meet don’t
want to talk.” She dropped the blanket and stooped to pick up her
gown. Her amply curved body looked like one made specifically for
pleasure, but for once he wasn’t filled with the rush of desire a
beautiful woman usually caused. The woman pulled on her dark,
threadbare gown and turned her back to Grey and Gravenhurst, who
now stood fully clothed by Grey. “Lace me up?”

Gravenhurst quickly obliged. When he
finished, the woman swiveled around, planted a kiss on his mouth,
and then reached behind her and twined her long hair into a knot at
the nape of her neck. “You were exactly what I needed last night,
my lord.”

“
Likewise.” Gravenhurst
handed the woman a gleaming, gold coin.

She tucked the coin between her
breasts, and then locked her gaze on Grey. “You’ve a reputation,
you know.”

“
So I’ve been told. Am I
to believe I’m so notorious now that I’m the talk of
the―?”

“
Ladies-in-waiting.”

He instantly pictured Lady Madelaine.
“If you’re trying to intrigue me, miss, you’ve succeeded. Do
tell.”

“
I accidentally overheard
them placing wagers on who would win your heart.”

That could be a boon or a curse,
depending on which side of the wager Lady Madelaine placed her
blunt. “You accidentally overheard them?” He raised a questioning
eyebrow. “As in you eavesdropped?”

“
Nay. I was tidying the
queen’s drawing room when they came in. I had to hide because we
chambermaids aren’t supposed to be seen.”

A sarcastic comment burned to be said,
but he had no wish to give her anymore reason to despise the
queen’s ladies as her derisive tone indicated she already did.
Instead he asked, “Did all the ladies place a wager?”

The woman’s smirk turned to downright
amusement. “Don’t tell me a particular lady has caught your
fancy?”

The question made Grey grind his
teeth. Lady Madelaine had bewitched him a bit, but it was nothing a
good romp wouldn’t cure. He wasn’t his father. He didn’t want to
get married and have children so he could ignore all but one of
them. He sure as hell wasn’t going to go falling in love with Lady
Madelaine and pledge his life to her. That would be just like his
father, and he was done trying to please the old bastard. “Not
really.”

“
All wagered but
one.”

“
Which lady?”

“
You’re quite certain one
of them hasn’t stirred your appetite?”

Madelaine had done more than stir his
appetite. With one encounter she’d unleashed it, and it seemed his
need to know her was only growing. “Quite certain.” The words
barely escaped his clenched teeth.

“
If you say so. Goodbye,
milords.” The woman was out the door without waiting for a
reply.

Grey grabbed his coat off the chair,
shoved his arms in and glared at Gravenhurst. “I’ll not have time
for breakfast thanks to you allowing your guest to sleep over.” He
was being unaccountably surly toward Gravenhurst, but he couldn’t
seem to stop his growing irritable mood.

“
Don’t try to tell me we
kept you up. We were long finished by the time you crept
in.”

“
Yes, but she detained me
just now.”

Gravenhurst chuckled. “Aye. For five
whole minutes. How tedious for you. What’s really the
matter?”

Grey shrugged. He wished he
knew.

Gravenhurst grinned. “Is it because a
certain lady is here at Court? Is Miss Prattle still under your
skin? Have you tried to meet her again and she didn’t bother
showing?”

“
Shut up,” Grey
snapped.

Gravenhurst frowned. “Kidding aside.
Did things not go well with the king?”

“
He was indisposed all day
and night, but he refused to excuse me. I don’t comprehend why the
king wants to speak with me― a mere equerry to a lesser land
holder. I’m of no importance.”

Gravenhurst splashed water on his face
before toweling it off and replying. “He honors you because of your
father.”

Grey nodded, his irritation deepening.
Never mind that he had wanted a commission. He was to be an equerry
as his father commanded. The irony of his situation set his teeth
on edge. His father had never taken any interest in him until Grey
had told him he wanted to be a solider. Then he’d taken enough
notice to tell Grey “no” and give him orders to come here. After
which the old bastard had ridden off with Grey’s older brother as
usual. Resentment curdled in his belly like sour milk. “I better
go. I’ll have just enough time to grab a hunk of bread and head to
the king’s chambers by my appointed hour.”