A Rough Wooing by Virginia Henley Read Free Book Online Page B

her up and down. “I can
understand that, mistress.”
    “I’m sure my aunt keeps some of her clothes
here. Perhaps I can borrow something?”
    “Bless your heart, my dear, Lady Dorothy
visited Langley only twice. Her ladyship prefers London to the
wilds of Northumberland. It’s been more than a year since she was
here last. The castle steward has allocated her chamber for Queen
Anne’s use when she arrives.”
    “Oh, the queen isn’t traveling with King
James. He is so eager for the Crown of England that he is riding
with all speed. I heard that Queen Anne, her children, and her
ladies won’t be leaving Edinburgh for at least a month.”
    “You must have seen him at Alnwick. Whatever
is King James like?”
    “Well, he’s no fashion plate.” Douglas
pictured the king in his shabby robes when she’d last been at
Court. “His hair and beard are reddish like the Percy’s, but his
Scottish brogue is so thick, it is difficult for the English to
understand him.”
    “Ooh, fancy that!” the woman said laughing.
“Since Queen Anne won’t be coming, I’ll accompany you up to your
Aunt Dorothy’s chamber. If memory serves, I think she did leave
some garments in the wardrobe.”
    As they climbed to the top of the tower, the
woman asked, “When do you think your uncle and the king’s party
will be arriving?”
    In fact Douglas hadn’t the faintest idea.
“Not until tomorrow at the very earliest, I warrant. I mustn’t take
up any more of your time. My uncle is blessed to have someone like
you at Langley. I shall be sure to mention how helpful you have
been.”
    The servant bobbed her a curtsey, visibly
pleased at the compliment.
    Douglas glanced about the tower chamber. It
had clearly been furnished for a lady. The first thing her eyes
fell on was a hairbrush sitting atop a tall chest. She immediately
slid open one of the chest’s drawers. When she saw the linen
undergarments she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. As she lifted
out a shift, petticoat, and hose, the scent of roses perfumed the
air. She crossed the room to the wardrobe. A silver mirror had been
mounted on the door and when she saw her reflection she was aghast. No wonder the servant looked me up and down with dismay. She
crossed her fingers and opened the wardrobe door. Oh, I have the
luck of the devil!
    She lifted out a blue damask gown and laid it
on the bed. On the floor of the wardrobe she found a pair of
matching slippers. She removed her doublet, then with careful
fingers she lifted the silver chain from around her neck and
unpinned the antique pendant from Greystoke’s shirt. When she took
off the shirt, his male scent stole to her, and sent a spiral of
desire curling through her belly. She forced herself to stop
thinking of him, folded her clothes and put them in the
wardrobe.
    Douglas unbraided her hair and brushed it
until it crackled, then she donned the undergarments and crossed
her fingers as she unlaced the gown and stepped into it. The damask
dress was not a perfect fit. There was no farthingale, but the
skirt was very full. It came only to her ankles but as she
tightened the laces on the front of the bodice, she had to take a
deep breath before she could close it completely. Percy’s wife
must be exceedingly slim. When she looked in the mirror she saw
that her breasts swelled provocatively above the low-cut neckline. Well, at least no one will notice my ankles!
    When she could drag her eyes from her own
exposed flesh, she noticed that the right side of the bodice had
been embroidered with a silver initial. Her mouth curved with
delight when she saw the letter D. How appropriate, the D for
Dorothy now becomes a D for Douglas.
    She picked up the lovely pendant, and saw the
image of Greystoke in its mirrored depths. D for Deception! She heard his voice as clearly as if he were in the room with her.
Douglas slipped the silver chain around her neck and pinned the
jeweled mirror between her breasts. She raised her chin defiantly
and