Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“I agree completely,” she said, forcing a tired smile.
Her husband helped her stand, and she pretended to sway on her feet as she curtsied to the king.
“Oh, take care,” he said, alarmed.
August swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest to the king’s mutters of concern. As they passed from the chamber, a court physician went in to the king with more laudanum. Elizabeth felt sad for the monarch, and guilty for deceiving him.
Though she did truly feel exhausted.
And irritated.
“How dare he ask you to spank me?” she said beneath her breath. “And after I have helped him to such an extent. What gives him the right?”
“He’s your king,” August teased. “And he did not ask, he commanded it. Now be quiet, my limp, exhausted darling, until we make our escape.”
Chapter Seventeen
A Certain Peace
The king provided a royal carriage to take them home—alone this time, with no glowering guards. August helped Elizabeth inside, then climbed in after her, with a huge chunk of royal-grown ginger in a sack. The look she gave him had him stifling a guffaw of laughter. No longer the exhausted lady, her eyes shot fire as she crossed her arms.
“What on earth just happened, August? Today of all days?”
“You were spectacular,” he said. “It was a performance for the ages.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
The carriage set off, rattling across the expanded Buckingham Palace courtyard. He pulled Elizabeth into his lap and kissed her pouting mouth until she responded. He caressed her cheeks, the hollows beneath her ears, her elegant neck. How he loved his wife’s pluck, her courage before the trappings of majesty. Well, she was a duke’s daughter, not one to be uncomfortable around power.
At length, she broke the kiss and let out a sigh. “I am beside myself. Honestly, I don’t know how to feel. I’m furious that he humiliated me before all my guests, having me dragged off by guards so I could commune with his departed daughter. And he believed it, all of it.”
“I fear he’s not in the best of health.”
“No, he’s not. And that part makes me sad. I pitied him. For a king, he’s weak and unsettled, and rude! I believe he wished to incite you to spank me right then and there, all while requesting, no, demanding my assistance as some kind of charlatan medium.” She buried her head in her hands a moment before looking up at him. “The pleading in his eyes! He really did love Charlotte. It was so sad, that his only daughter died. I’m so upset. I don’t know how to feel.”
“It’s all right not to know.” He embraced her, trying to still her trembling. He caressed her smooth hair, arranged so prettily for a garden party she’d not been able to attend. “Shh. It’s all right.” She’d gone from outrage to pity to tears, and he let her cry. It had been a bizarre and pitiable scene, but she’d handled herself so well, so adeptly.
“Darling, it’s all right. Don’t torment yourself. Why, you should be proud. You did a good thing, letting him believe you could sense his daughter, and speak her comforting words. You made him feel better.”
“But I feel worse. It was dishonest, wasn’t it? And the bit at the end…”
He tipped up her chin. “That was your moment of genius. If anyone is to stop gossip of your ‘sorcery’ and ‘devilish talents,’ it’s the highest power in the land, especially when you’re one of his favorites. You made a friend of our king today.”
“Even if the gossips desist, he’ll still believe in it. He’ll want me back to speak to God-knows-who in the afterlife. Charlemagne, or Elizabeth the First, or King Arthur.”
“Only every six months or so,” he said. “You cleverly took care of that. It was such a masterful performance, I had to restrain myself from applauding at several points.” He sobered. “But I’m sorry you had to go through it. Kings and their reckless demands can be daunting when you’re caught up in it. Were you afraid?”
“Yes. I was afraid to contradict him, afraid to be truthful. I behaved so falsely.”
He took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her gloves. “Whether false or true, you did a kindness for your king. You put his heart at ease, which isn’t a simple task when his mind is so tortured.”
“And in return, he sends my husband home with ginger from his gardens, and likens me to an over-spirited horse which must be tamed. What a terrible day. You must throw that ginger in the nearest bin as soon as we arrive home.”
August had no plans to do that, but he wouldn’t say so now, when she was in such an agitated state. Instead, he kissed her again, then sat back beside her, looking from the carriage windows at the lovely, sunny sky. It would have been a fabulous party.