Margaret Moore Read Online Free PDF

as the monarch’s tone altered yet again. He now spoke as one old friend to another. “However, we believe we have hit upon a most charming and excellent solution,” the king continued pleasantly.
    Richard and Elissa regarded him doubtfully.
    “You two must be married.”

Chapter 3
    “T o whom, sire?” Richard asked, trying to remain calm.
    “Do not play the fool, Richard,” the king replied. “To each other, of course.”
    “That is quite impossible, Your Majesty,” Mistress Longbourne declared.
    As Charles turned toward her, Richard felt a moment’s pity. Charles was inevitably polite and charming to women and often seemed to give way to their desires, especially if to do so meant he could exist in peace.
    However, disagreeing with him in such a bold way was not the means to win Charles to one’s side.
    As if she sensed this, Mistress Longbourne’s expression changed suddenly to one of demure modesty that was all too likely to make Charles clay in her slender hands. “Surely, Majesty, this ornament of the court is too far above me,” she demurred.
    Richard couldn’t quite subdue a scowl. She no more meant that than she would if she claimed to be hopelessly in love with him. Zounds, he couldn’t have written a more deceitful, clever, scheming heroine if he tried!
    The king looked down at the diamond ring he was twisting around his finger, then raised his face, a little smile playing about his lips. “I should think any woman would be delighted to marry this handsome, talented fellow who is a friend of the king.”
    “Your Majesty, a marriage to me will not change anything regarding the ownership of the estate,” Mistress Longbourne observed. “It will still be my son’s.”
    “And not the property of its rightful owner,” Richard agreed.
    “My son
is
the rightful owner!” Mistress Longbourne protested, her mask of diffident female momentarily supping.
    Richard nearly smiled when he noticed that the king seemed to be growing weary of her insistence in this regard. “Majesty, I fear we must not marry. Mistress Longbourne neither likes nor approves of me and I daresay I would not improve upon acquaintance.”
    “Nonsense!” the king replied. “We well recall certain recalcitrant women who soon enough clamored to be in your bed, and we cannot remember a one of them complaining afterward.”
    “Majesty,” Richard said in a loud, conspiratorialwhisper and with a pointed glance at Mistress Longbourne, “I believe remarking upon my past conquests is not endearing me to my intended.”
    “We are quite sure you will be able to overcome any reluctance on her part.” The king regarded Elissa. “Sir Richard has long desired to return to his home. While he may not be able to regain rights to the estate, as your husband he will be able to live there. Is that not a fine compromise?”
    “Live there?”
    “With you,” the king repeated as if she were quite dim. “As your husband.”
    Elissa looked at the man the king wanted her to marry, and her imagination conjured certain visions of married life.
    Sir Richard Blythe was not William Longbourne, and he surely would have to be a better—
    No! she chided her traitorous heart. Sir Richard Blythe was a lascivious, immoral scoundrel, like most of the king’s friends, and no matter how handsome he was, or how intriguing his dark eyes, she did not want to see him again, let alone be married to him.
    “Perhaps you would care to discuss this matter with your lawyer, since he is so conveniently to hand?” the king suggested with a smile.
    Elissa rose and curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty, I shall,” she said briskly before shehurried out the door through which she had entered.
    After she had gone, the king ordered his servants to leave, and then turned toward Richard. “Odd’s fish, this must be a most peculiar situation for you, Blythe,” he observed.
    Richard nodded. “I do not discuss marriage every day, sire.”
    “At least not your own, eh?”