Royal Inheritance by Kate Emerson Read Free Book Online Page A

cart to pass another without scraping, but it is lined with the houses of wealthy merchants. Our neighbors were all drapers and tailors. Fashionable ladies and gentlemen visited their shops daily, searching for the latest imported fabric or bespeaking a new suit of clothes.
    At first I thought the young man in the king’s livery was bent on some similar errand, or that he’d come to collect a fresh supply of garments like the ones he wore. In addition to making the fancy robes and doublets worn by the king and his noblemen, royaltailors also provide livery for the king’s servants. But this individual stopped beneath my window, considered the house for a long moment, and then, as if he sensed me watching him, tilted his head back until our gazes locked.
    Bright noonday sun revealed eyes of a deep, dark brown flecked with amber. The rest of his face was equally appealing—strongly defined features and a ready smile.
    I recognized him then. When the king had first said the name John Harington, I’d known which of the gentleman choristers he meant, but I’d only seen Master Harington from a distance. His impact had been muted.
    When I continued to stare at him, he doffed his feathered cap, revealing a full head of thick brown curls. Then he bowed in my direction.
    Behind me, I heard the rustle of fabric. One of my sisters came up to stand beside me, but I did not look away from the young man below to see which one it was. He, however, took note of her, bowed again, and then passed out of sight beneath the overhang.
    “What a toothsome young gentleman!” Bridget leaned far out the window, hoping for a glimpse of the back of him as he entered Father’s shop. “And he wears the king’s livery. Who is he?” She was already heading for the stairs.
    Mother Anne’s sharp command prevented her from descending. “Your father does not need your help with a customer, Bridget. Return to your mending, if you please.”
    Bridget looked mutinous and would surely have argued, had she not heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming our way. Father entered first but Master Harington was right behind him.
    My throat went dry. Close at hand, he was even more pleasing to look at. Indeed, he was the most appealing man I had ever seen. Yes, I know I was not yet twelve years old, but he had barely reached hiseighteenth year. To the mind of a girl on the verge of womanhood, even the king himself, with all his glittering jewels, could not surpass this young and handsome fellow for masculine beauty.
    Bridget was no more immune to Master Harington’s charms than I was. Her avid gaze devoured him. Had Mother Anne not caught hold of her arm, she’d have been across the room to his side in a flash.
    Father cleared his throat. “Allow me to make known to you Master John Harington, gentleman of the Chapel Royal. He has been sent by the king to give Audrey music lessons.”
    Bridget’s face fell. “Have we not already suffered enough? She is always humming some tune she heard in church or on the street.”
    Stung by her derisive tone, I defended myself. “Sometimes I sing the words.”
    “For the most part, you do not know the lyrics, if there even are any. You invent your own.”
    “An admirable skill,” Master Harington interrupted, turning Bridget’s taunt into a compliment. His eyes twinkled with delight. “With my teaching, Mistress Audrey will become even more proficient at singing and songwriting.”
    Father presented Mother Anne to Master Harington. As is the custom when greeting those who are truly welcome, she gave him a friendly kiss, making me think that he, unlike Master Petre the dancing master,must have desirable connections at the royal court.
    Elizabeth was next to be introduced, then Bridget. Giggling, they followed Mother Anne’s example. When it was my turn, I went up on my tiptoes to brush my lips against the smooth, soft, sweet-smelling skin of his cheek. The touch was brief but sufficient to send heat flooding into