Seduced by Grace by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online

her rib cage and tremors ran over her from her chest to her knees. She made her curtsy, aware at the same time of David’s respectful obeisance on one knee. At a brief, stern word from the king, David rose and took her hand, drawing her up beside him, placing her hand on his arm and his other over it for support. They waited for Henry VII tomake known his displeasure and what he meant to exact of them for it.
    The king had aged since coming to the throne, Marguerite realized as she gazed up at him in the bright, unforgiving light of morning. His shoulders were more stooped and lines of care grooved his long, patrician face on either side of his thin blade of a nose. Strands of silver glinted in the sandy-blond of his hair that hung below his hat with its upturned brim cut in jagged points like a crown drawn by a child. Ten years past, when she first appeared at court, he had seemed a man in his prime. Now, at not much above forty, he looked much older and tired beyond reckoning. It seemed the weight of England rested upon his shoulders. Who could say it did not?
    “Here we are together again, David of Braesford,” Henry said. “At last.”
    “Your Majesty,” he returned in grave acknowledgment, and not the smallest trace of subservience.
    Marguerite, watching the two men, was aware of an odd undercurrent between them. One or two of the king’s courtiers seemed to feel it as well, for they glanced at each other with raised brows. Did it relate to that day during the bloodletting at Stoke, when David had saved the king’s life and raised the fallen Lancaster standard in victory? She could not imagine what it might be otherwise.
    “You are no doubt surprised to see us,” Henry went on, employing the royal plural with easy familiarity.
    David inclined his head. “As you say, sire.”
    “We will go inside where we may be private.” Henry indicated the cottage a small distance away with a briefwave of his hand. “We will then discuss how we arrived at this happenstance.”
    There was little mystery to it in Marguerite’s mind. Someone must have ridden in haste to the king with the news of her abduction. Another man had no doubt followed after David, that he might lead Henry to this hidden encampment. The only way either could have brought the king here in such short order, however, was if Henry had been hunting or else upon royal progress nearby. And what evil chance had allowed that?
    Marguerite, uncertain she was included in the command to attend the king in the cottage, hung back as they neared the low doorway. David did not release her, however, but drew her with him as he stepped inside.
    Astrid was caught at the window where she had been standing on a stool to watch Henry’s arrival. She curtsied from atop it with aplomb not unmixed with bravado. Henry gestured for her to jump down and bring her perch forward. Taking the stool, he made a gesture of dismissal. Astrid’s face creased in a worried frown, but she backed from the cottage and closed the door behind her.
    Marguerite and David were left alone with Henry VII.
    The king made a brusque signal which indicated that Marguerite must take the stool. It was not a mannerly gesture, she thought, but rather that he wished to avoid the low seat which would have put his knees on a level with his shoulders, not to mention requiring that she and David sit on the earthen floor so their heads would not be above his.
    Or mayhap Henry merely preferred to remain onhis feet. His manner was unsettled, and tension robbed his movements of their usual deliberation. The same sense of strain wavered in the air, crackling like the low flames on the hearth.
    “You will have guessed that we have been kept informed of your movements since you left France,” he threw at David, speaking over his shoulder as he strode toward the single window, the turned back again. “Lady Marguerite’s as well, from the time she passed out of the gates of Braesford.”
    “Aye, sire, it seemed