“Your proposition?” Shayburn asked reluctantly.
“Virginia.”
“Never!”
“You refuse this solution?”
“England or nothing!”
“You are a fool, Shayburn,” Chad said easily. “And a coward. But you’ve sown the seeds to your own fate again. You have fifteen days to meet your debts. And manage this carefully. Thievery and murder to meet your ends will do you no good now. You are being watched. I give you this warning in hopes you make no attempts that will waste lives or property, because quite honestly, my lord, I would relish seeing you hang for what you have already done.”
“What are you going to do?” Shayburn asked a bit wearily.
“The people of that shire have suffered enough, my lord. I will make a recommendation to the king but of course the decision is not mine. I deal simply with facts. My advice is that you take up your old profession or accept the offered property in America.”
“What do you suppose His Majesty will think of the way I’ve been burned out? Do you think he will kindly accept the fact that one of his own nobles slit another’s throat, ravaged his lands, and murdered his people only to place that acreage in the hands of a well-known pirate and—”
Shayburn stopped as he noticed Chad was smiling, not at all worried about these accusations. Shayburn wheezed and blustered and Chad simply smiled. At last Chad leaned forward in his chair and placed both hands on the desk, looking into Shayburn’s eyes.
“In the event that you can prove any of your accusations I must warn you that there are at least twice as many testimonies implicating you in far worse crimes. As to murder, that protest is ineffectual as no murder was done in your shire. Swords were raised only in defense and those portrayed as dead actually live. You have ruined your own cause listening to rumors that Sir John is a pirate when in fact he is a knight of the realm with His Majesty’s support and permission in a privateering venture. I suggest you leave quietly, my lord. It is perhaps the only way you will do so alive.”
“I demand to know what card you hold!”
“I’m sorry. I’ve said all I am prepared to say.”
“You’ll pay for this, Bryant! This is war!”
Chad smiled. “I have paid for this, Shayburn. Many times over. If this is indeed war, it will be the shortest on record.”
Shayburn’s fury melted into fear. He had so many illegal dealings he didn’t know which to fear for most. Financing Dutch troops and vessels? Thievery? Bribing officials? Scanting the tax? The old battle with Bollering?
He slammed his hat on his head and left the earl. Smiling at the quick departure, Chad leaned back in his chair. Slowly the smile faded. He was weary. Tired. He wished only for peace.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
At Whitehall there is ceremony and beauty. Artfully garbed gentlemen posture over the hands of exquisitely dressed women. Tables heavily burdened with scrumptious and unusual foods artistically prepared fill the rooms. Large ice sculptures decorate the tables; the orchestra stands ready to play.
But it is an illusion. As one presses one’s way into this noble throng the senses immediately reveal the falseness of this beauty. The stench of unwashed bodies is almost overpowering. Courtly manners are contradicted by the sight of a gentleman crossing the room to relieve himself on the wall. Ice sculptures melt to run onto the floor with leftover bits of food and spilled wine. Rodents creep dangerously close to steal a morsel. The people who stand chatting in the corners are usually plotting some way to ruin an associate or seal for themselves a better position at someone else’s expense.
Louise de Keroualle was firmly established as the king’s favorite mistress. She was surrounded by her own party of well-wishers, her throng of supporters, those who zealously sought her good favors to improve their status. She, however, sat in a pout tonight. The king’s other mistress, an actress from the theater, was about her usual mischief, relishing doing things that would embarrass Louise.
Chelynne found her former admirers a little less eager and the ladies a little more responsive. She found a circle of women to sit with and noticed her husband seeking out the king.
Chad stood near Charles, but not too near. Chad didn’t like the close contact and hated speaking to anyone who forced his presence closer and closer during the conversation.
“I understand congratulations are in order, my lord,” Charles said without looking at him.
“I shouldn’t think so, sire,” Chad returned somewhat sullenly.
“Nasty business, this,” Charles commented with some humor in his voice. “Wears a man out to have a beautiful wife, trying to keep the men out from under her skirts all the time.”
Chad grunted his reply, completely unintelligible to Charles. But the king laughed as if he had been let in on some great private joke. Chad looked toward him in confusion and for the first time since their conversation began they met eyes. Amused brown with suspicious brows stared into younger, lighter, gray stones. Chad was seldom at a disadvantage. For his sovereign he was obligated to be disadvantaged. “I prefer my friends handle their problems less dramatically, Bryant. I thought we agreed on that and other things.”
“Aye, sire.”
“Your battlefield reputation is well known so not many are surprised. But then few have known you as I have. Indeed, you’re a mystery to many.”
Chad smiled. “And not you, sire?”
“Not I,” he returned simply. “But then I have another advantage. I knew Sir John as well as yourself.”
“And?”
“And...I think it mightily out of character.”
“I’d be pleased to make an explanation to Your Majesty—”
“No, I won’t hear it. I’m playing at observer, if you will. For now, that is. I’ll hear your story when you have a conclusion to it.”
“I’m honored, sire.”
“Don’t be. I am not a generous man, actually. That’s a rumor that seems to have gotten out since my habit of gifting women with comforting baubles to ensure their rent. It does not necessarily apply in other places. My reason for leaving you to your business is more practical and selfish. I believe you understand well enough now without need of further compliments to you.”
“I will do my best to serve your interests, sire. You can be assured.”
“Yes, you will. And I am assured. Do you know why?” Chad did not attempt a reply, for he knew Charles was intent on delivering a little speech without any assistance. “I am assured because if you do not serve my best interests you will be extremely sorry. Thus far we have been compatible because you’ve managed to better yourself and your king simultaneously. Otherwise...will be dealt with otherwise.”
“Thank you, sire. I’ll heed your words.”
“Do you have any idea why I trust you, Bryant?”
“Because I have never betrayed you, sire?”
“That is idle romance. When do you suppose the first betrayal comes, Bryant? The reason is this: already you have more than you want or need. You are an adventurer and warrior first. You’re hatefully inept at politics. You see, it’s your basic inadequacy that brings my trust.” Charles laughed heartily at his own wit. Chad smiled. How could one feel the sting of insult delivered so honestly and appropriately? Charles clamped a hand down on his shoulder and then walked away mumbling something Chad couldn’t hear.
Charles failed to mention the other advantages Chad had. He had never been very affluent or influential and therefore never slandered before now. That was one way to measure a person’s importance at court. Only the most important were slandered. That Bryant was suddenly taken notice of and an attempt made to ruin his name would only bring skepticism to an already skeptical king. Charles was not a fool.
Chelynne was talking to an older woman whom Chad had never met before. When he approached her she looked up at him and bestowed on him a soft, wifely smile. He fondly touched her shoulder. Then a familiar woman sauntered over to where Chad stood behind his wife’s chair and casually looped her arm through his. Chelynne’s eyes narrowed and she looked away, disregarding them both and giving her complete attention to the baroness to whom she spoke.
“The countess seems out of sorts this eve, my lord,” Gwen remarked.
“She’s had her problems,” Chad grunted, wishing with all his heart that Gwen would go away. Apparently all of his earlier warnings meant nothing to her, for once again she arranged herself close to him in a most familiar fashion. And again for the benefit of his wife and companions. “Have you anything to tell me?”
“He’s not yet returned to London,” she stalled. “Black does her coloring ill,” she observed of Chelynne.
“She wears it respectfully, my lady,” he returned. “And luckily is not bound to it for life.” Gwen felt the gibe. It was painfully clear to her that until she could procure for herself another husband she would be bound to her mourning gowns.
“She wears it for her uncle, then,” Gwen said saucily. “I thought she mourned another.”
Chad’s face darkened considerably. “You’ve a mighty poor way of showing your friendship, Gwen. I thought you wished nothing but goodwill between us.”
“Of a certain, my lord. I offer you my sympathy, that is all.” She turned her seductive green eyes up to him and said softly, “I know the pain of losing someone you love to another.”
“Truly? Then I offer my sympathy to you, madam. I do not.”
Gwen stammered as if she would argue the point, accuse Chelynne rather loudly of taking a lover in the form of Chad’s own friend. In her confusion she could say nothing. Before she untangled her tongue for a quick response she was aware of a very important presence and held silent.
“You’re looking lovely this evening, madam,” Charles said, addressing Chelynne with a most personal smile. Chelynne dazzled him with one of her own; warm, sincere and lovely. One that had not been bestowed on Chad for some time. The earl felt a quick twinge of jealousy and as quickly ignored it, telling himself it mattered as little as anything.
“I’m honored that you would even notice me, sire,” Chelynne replied.
“Notice you? Would I notice a rose garden in full bloom at Christmastide?” He laughed lightly and took her hand, helping her to rise and stroll with him across the room. All around them heads went together, whispering ensued, judgments were passed. They chatted at a distance from eager ears, he laughing at some comment she made and she smiling at his amusement.
“You’re lacking in attention tonight, madam,” the king said.
“Think you so? I would say I’ve the most influential attention in the room.”
“You flatter me,” he said with a bow.
“You seem to have problems of your own,” she commented, indicating the pouting Louise with her eyes. “She appears a trifle sullen.”
He raised a brow and smiled. “A common affliction among beautiful women. Sulking. They keep forgetting it gains them nothing.”
“She’ll adjust, given time.”
“Time is about all I have to give,” he laughed. It was well known that the king’s financial affairs were in a continuously horrid state.
“The pity is the ennui you shall both suffer from her pout,” Chelynne dared. “Perhaps you can liven her spirits.”
“I leave women to their broken hearts. Most often they are conjured up for the purpose of having their spirits expensively livened.” He laughed at himself and she joined him. Then she made her greatest attempt, acting so well that Charles was unaware of her fluttering heart and damp hands.
“So, you’ve no plans?”
He raised a quizzical brow. “Methinks you lead me on, madam.”
“Never that, sire,” she said, batting her lashes as coquettishly as she could.
“You’ve been quite halted in your own diversion, it would seem.”
Guessing he spoke of the duel, she looked away for a moment. It still upset her greatly to think of it. But following through as she planned, she smiled into his amused black eyes and replied, “I think not.”
“What shall you do?”
“Keep my company to those who would go unchallenged.”
“Have you the means?”
“When I set my mind to it.”
“Tonight?”
“It would be no problem. Though late, I fear.”
“The back stairs. Chiffinch will guide you.” He laughed easily, delighted with himself and her. He had long admired her loveliness, desired her. He cast a glance to her husband, still standing with Lady Graystone. He shrugged. “I hadn’t thought to put horns on Bryant,” he murmured. “But any man with so lovely a wife must better learn to protect his interests.”
“My thoughts exactly, sire,” she returned, but there was no humor in her voice. She was gravely serious.
There were puppets and acrobats, dancing and gambling. Then came the favorite diversion, when the party began to dissipate and all the elite personages began rushing off to their different assignations. The countess of Bryant had always retired to her home at this time of the evening, but tonight she had an appointment—and her appointment was with the king.
Chelynne went home with her husband. They parted at the top of the stairs and each went off into private quarters. She was feeling shameful about this deception, however sure she was she must go through with it. She let the feeling of guilt swell within her, and then it vanished quickly when she heard his bedroom door close. She opened her door just a crack to see what she expected to see. He was leaving the house.