A Dangerous Love by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online

February. And Princess Mary, who was five on the sixth of August.”
    “Oh!” Adair said excitedly, “we share the same birthday, my lady.”
    Mary of York looked haughtily at Adair. “I do not share my birthday with anyone,” she said in a hard little voice. “I am a king’s daughter.”
    “So am I!” Adair snapped back, and then she clapped her hand over her mouth.
    Elizabeth Woodville laughed softly. “You do not look like your sire,” she remarked, “but you have his pride, I see. Well, the cat’s escaped the bag, and there is no help for it. Adair was sired by your own father, my daughters, which is why she will have our aid and comfort, for she is your blood kin. Where is Mags?”
    “I am here, Your Highness.” Lady Margaret Beaufort came forward. She was a tall woman in her late twenties with chestnut-colored hair that showed from beneath her headdress, and fine dark blue eyes. Although her son was the heir to the house of Lancaster, she was nonetheless a trusted member of the queen’s household, and the royal governess. Her intellect and serene manner were much admired.
    “This is Adair Radcliffe, the Countess of Stanton, Mags. She’s one of Edward’s bastards. Her family has been killed, and she has been sent to us. She is a bit younger than Bessie. I’m putting her in the nursery with the girls. You will have charge over her,” the queen said.
    “She has her own servant.”
    “Very good, Your Highness,” Lady Margaret Beaufort said. She looked at Adair. “The dog is yours?”
    “Yes, my lady.” Adair’s little hand rested on Beiste’s head.
    “He goes into the kennel. I will not have a dog in my nursery,” Lady Margaret said in a no-nonsense tone.
    “Then I shall go into the kennel with him,” Adair said stubbornly. “I will not be separated from Beiste. He is my best friend, and all I have left of Stanton.”
    “You will not like the kennel,” Lady Margaret remarked dryly.
    “Probably I will not,” Adair admitted, “but I will not send Beiste away. It would be cruel. And I am all he has left of Stanton.”
    Margaret Beaufort looked down at the little girl standing so politely but defiantly before her. There was something about this child that reached out and touched her heart. “There are cats in the nursery,” she pointed out.
    “Beiste loves cats,” Adair quickly assured her. “There was one who slept with him in my father’s hall. And he does not shit indoors but goes out. Even in the rain. And he is a wonderful watchdog as well.”
    The queen laughed. “I think, Mags, that my lady the Countess of Stanton has made a good case for her wolfhound, don’t you?”
    Margaret Beaufort allowed a small smile to turn up the corners of her mouth. “I suppose a good watchdog would be a fine addition to the nursery,” she agreed.
    “Very well, child. The dog may come with us. Bessie, Mary, it’s time to return to our quarters.” She looked at Elsbeth. “You have a name?”
    “Yes, my lady. Elsbeth, although my lady calls me Nursie.”
    “You will continue to have charge over your mistress, but now and again I may ask service of you. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, my lady,” Elsbeth said. No nonsense with this   one , she considered. She was yet young, but she was tough.
    Adair took her leave of the queen, thanking her for her gracious welcome and curtsying politely. Then she and Elsbeth followed Lady Margaret back to the children’s quarters of the house, Beiste trotting along beside them. The nursery was made up of several chambers. The infant prince, Edward, had several of his own rooms for himself and his attendants. Adair was assigned a sturdy pallet cot in a bedchamber with the three princesses, who slept in a large curtained oak bedstead. Cicely, the littlest princess, was between two and three years of age. She was not considered old enough to visit her mother in the hall. The queen came now and again to coo over Cicely and her baby brother. The children’s