Alys smiled timidly. “I…I thought perhaps to thank you for the delightful afternoon we spent together, sire.”
John took her hand gently, a gesture that was as sickening as it was forced. “Ah,” he said sweetly. “A lady with manners. I was about to have my morning meal. Will you join me?”
Alys glanced hesitantly at Sean, fearfully at Gerard, before answering. “I would be honored, sire.”
Sean was starting to feel the distinct twinges of panic. He’d seen that expression on the king, too many times. He knew where it would lead. He had held the king off once with warnings of unified opponents should he violate a St. James woman, but he suspected that warning would only hold good once. Alys had walked right back into the jaws of the lion and he was very quickly realizing there was nothing he could do about it. She was going to be eaten.
As he watched Alys sit at the private table in the king’s bower, he could see the familiar pattern forming. D’Athée faded into the shadows as he, too, was expected to do. If he didn’t follow the pattern, the king would wonder why. If the king began to ask questions, then Sean’s entire position could be in doubt. If his position was in doubt, then nine long, horrible years of his life would be wasted, never to be regained again. He could not blow his cover. The king could not realize that a traitor lay closer to him than he had ever dared imagine.
He could not risk his position, not when everything was so close at hand.
Stupid girl!
He left the room and shut the door. There were guards in the corridor, watching him, and he would not react. He retiredback into the large chamber that belonged to him adjacent to the king’s apartments. Of all of the turmoil he had ever felt about his position, this was the worst. It was a nightmare. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew what he should do. Holding his breath, he waited for the first screams. They were not long in coming.
Damn her!
Sean burst through the connecting door, into the king’s chamber. The king had Alys on the floor near the table, the top of her gown ripped away to reveal snow-white flesh. She was sobbing hysterically. The king looked at Sean, his expression between fear and annoyance.
“De Lara?” he said through clenched teeth. “What manner of crisis is this?”
Sean reached around the king and yanked Alys off the floor, so hard that he heard a bone snap. She screamed, clutching her wrist. Sean shoved her back through the doors and into the adjoining chamber, slamming the heavy oak panels behind her hard enough to rattle the walls. Furious, bordering on a loss of control, he faced off against the king.
“Sire,” he was struggling to maintain his composure. “I told you that attacking a St. James woman would be foolish. With all of the allied nobles in London at this time, and particularly those paying tribute at Henry’s Wake earlier this week, can you not see the folly of your actions? I forbid you to deliberately incite a riot against the crown when we have worked so hard to contain it. Surely there are other women you can entertain yourself with.”
John gazed at him with his droopy-eyed, piercing stare. He fidgeted with the tunic that was askew on his torso. After an eternity of horrid, tension-filled silence, during which Sean was positive the man was going to have him arrested, the king suddenly broke into an unexpected, completely abashed, grin.
“De Lara,” he grunted, slapping Sean on the arm. “My most loyal servant. How on earth do you tolerate me? I am trying to destroy myself even as you try to save me. Are we such a foolish pair, you and I?”
Even at those words, Sean could not relax. He was so furious that he had bitten his tongue; he could taste the blood. “If it is a woman you want, I shall find one for you,” he said. “But I will not let you provoke the opposition as you seem so willing to do. I will not let you commit political suicide.”
John was still grinning as he made his way, lazily, back over to his dressing table. “Very good, de Lara, very good,” he spoke like a man who clearly understood his mistake. “I would prefer a blond. Not too thin.”
As quickly as his lust roused, it was as quickly forgotten. From somewhere, the chamberlain appeared and resumed cutting the king’s hair with a razor-sharp dagger. It was as if nothing had ever been. It looked the same as it did when Sean had entered the chamber.
But Sean was used to that. John could be bitterly confusing in that sense. Without further thought. Sean retreated back to his adjoining room where Alys was huddled against the wall, holding her wrist. When she saw Sean approach, she began to cry loudly. He knelt beside her, swiftly, putting his hand on her head in a comforting gesture.
“I am sorry, Alys,” he muttered. “Truly, I am sorry. It was an accident. But I had to get you out of there and I apologize if I was brutal. Do you understand that?”
She was sobbing pathetically. “He… he tried to…”
“I know,” he felt so badly for her that he kissed her on the forehead. “Come, let me see what I have done. Please know I wouldn’t have intentionally hurt you for the world. I did not mean to.”
She sniffled, wincing when he ran his fingers over her forearm. “It hurts.”
“I know. I can feel the broken bone through your skin. Let’s get you out of here and to a physic.”
Sean went to the wall and pushed on one of the massive decorative panels that lined the perimeter; it swung open, revealing a steep, narrow staircase that disappeared into the darkness below. He took a taper in one hand and Alys in the other.
“Come along,” he said. “Watch the steps; they’re steep.”
Tears fading, left arm held tight against her body, Alys allowed him to lead her down the dark stairs.
As the secret panel closed softly behind them, the doors on the opposite side of the chamber softly opened. The king was standing in the archway with Gerard. The men gazed unemotionally at the wall with the hidden panel, each man thinking his own thoughts of what he had just witnessed. It was difficult to know their conclusions. It was the king who finally spoke, a great deal of reluctance in his tone.
“Follow him,” he said to d’Athée. “See where he goes.”
“He goes to take her to the physic, sire,” Gerard said. “You heard the bone snap yourself.”