Margaret Moore by A Rogues Embrace Read Free Book Online Page A

the Thames.
    As Richard watched Mistress Winters allow rather astonishing liberties by the king, he hoped she would keep the king sufficiently occupied that His Majesty wouldn’t realize how late the hour was growing, or speculate that Mistress Longbourne had decided she would rather risk the king’s wrath than marry.
    “My mother was nearly half a day late for her wedding,” Foz noted nostalgically.
    Richard had met Foz’s father before the elderly gentleman had passed away, so he could understand why his mother might have waited until the last possible moment to marry him. It was hardly flattering to think Elissa Longbourne had a similar reaction to
him.
    “How did Minette take the news of your marriage?”
    “Rather better than I expected,” Richard replied.
    Rather better than he had been prepared for, truth be told. He supposed she already had her sights set on another man, and presumably one with more to give.
    “I wish you had agreed to borrow my new peruke,” Foz whispered as he surveyed Richard with slight disapproval.
    “Wigs make my head itch,” Richard whispered back. “What would be worse, a bridegroom who displays his own unfashionable hair or one who’s constantly scratching?”
    The king suddenly laughed, the jovial eruption drawing everyone’s attention.
    “Perhaps we shall have to send our guards for her, eh?” he called out, looking at Richard. “In the meantime, the ladies are bidding on who shall take Mistress Longbourne’s place if she fails to arrive.”
    Richard bowed in acknowledgment and dutifully smiled as he slowly perused the bevy of painted, overdressed women. Not one of them attracted him at all, but one or two eyed him flirtatiously, making it clear they would consider taking the bride’s place, or at least substitute for her in the nuptial bed. “How delightful, Majesty! Who, may I ask, has bid the most?”
    “Oh, it would be unchivalrous to say, surely,” the king protested. Then he startedand straightened, pointing down the hall. “Lo, the bride cometh!”
    Richard turned—and then struggled to control the anger washing over him, for his bride came not in wedding finery, but in mourning, from the top of her black-veiled head to the bottom of her stiff, high-necked black gown. Her haughty, aloof expression as she walked slowly toward him was not one to inspire happiness, either. She looked as if
she
were the dear departed, her frozen face a death mask.
    Beside her, also dressed in plain black and with an equally dismal mien, was the fellow from the anteroom last night.
    Elissa Longbourne’s son was nowhere to be seen.
    The soft sounds of snickering, both male and female, reached Richard’s ears and his jaw clenched.
    “She’s even beautiful in that horrible gown,” Foz breathed beside him. “How embarrassing for her! She must have had nothing else suitable.”
    “She should have bought something,” Richard snarled under his breath.
    Foz scrutinized Richard’s attire.
“You
didn’t.”
    “That’s different!”
    “Who’s that chap with her? His tailor should be hanged if he can’t provide a better fit than that.”
    “He is her lawyer.”
    “Ods bodikins, really?”
    “Really.”
    The king rose and majestically strode toward Mistress Longbourne, his usual charming smile on his face. She curtsied and waited until he took her hand to rise, while her lawyer bowed. “Ah, Mistress Longbourne! We were beginning to fear something had happened to prevent you from coming, which would have been most unfortunate.”
    He glanced back at the women who swarmed around him like bees to honey. “Although some would have been only too happy if you had not.”
    “I am very sorry, Your Majesty,” she said with what sounded like sincere regret. “I was trying to find something appropriate to wear, and failed.”
    Foz nudged Richard so hard, he had to take a step to keep from falling over.
    “You are lovely nonetheless,” the king graciously replied as he placed her