The Hawk and the Dove by Virginia Henley Read Free Book Online Page A

was sighted off Margate the news of his arrival would spread like wildfire until it reached the ears of the queen herself.
    Hawkhurst preferred to announce himself, so keeping his famous dragon sail hoisted in the stiff river breeze, he waited until he drew abreast of Greenwich Palace, then ordered a cannon be fired for one salute. The queen’s private apartments overlooked the river where she could watch ships from all over the world travel this busiest of her highways.
    Hawkhurst knew the startling uproar the boom of a ship’s cannon would create so close to the palace, but heloved to be dramatic. He allowed five minutes to elapse to give the queen and her court time to run to the windows, then he swept off his feathered cap and bowed low in homage to Gloriana.
    The corridors of Greenwich Palace were abuzz with the news of the Sea God’s arrival, accompanied by the whispers and giggles of every female, from the lowest scullery maid to the highest-ranking lady of the bedchamber. Within the hour he strode through the public gallery resplendent in the latest fashion from France. His soft leather boots reached his thighs and he wore a short fur-edged cape and a narrow Italian rapier in a jewel-encrusted sheath. The white pleated ruff at his neck set off his bronzed face and lion’s mane of hair. Today he wore two great thumb rings, one a black diamond, the other a blood-red ruby as big as a pigeon’s egg.
    He made his way to the presence chamber, where the queen greeted many guests as she sat in her great chair of state. In the ensuing hour she had changed her dress twice and her jewelry thrice, losing her temper with her ladies even to the point of slapping Mary Shelton’s face. She had finally decided upon the Tudor colors of green and white. The deep green satin sleeves were slashed to show white undersleeves encrusted with crystal beads. She had selected a stiff lace neck whisk to show off her white breasts and throat and she wore no fewer than ten strands of pearls. A pearl-and-diamond coronet anchored down a vivid red wig, and she wore a different-jeweled ring on every single finger of her long, slim white hands. Her skin was as white as Albion rocks, bleached by a secret lotion she always used. Her nose was too long and her lips too thin, yet she expected her ladies to tell herhow beautiful she was, and her gentlemen to tell her they would die of the passion they had for her.
    In spite of the fevered preparations of the past hour she sat now in the chair of state and looked past Hawkhurst as if he were invisible. Shane smiled to himself. She was punishing him for shooting off the cannon and for being away for six months. He wondered arrogantly how long she would be able to resist him. Cynically he gave her half an hour, but at the end of fifteen minutes in the crowded room, she arose and ushered everyone from the room with an imperious “Leave us now. We would be alone.” She paused dramatically, then commanded, “Captain Hawkhurst, I believe you desire private audience.”
    She had not dismissed her ladies-in-waiting yet and they encircled her in the pale insipid gowns she insisted they wear so she would stand out like a jeweled centerpiece. Every female in the room lusted for him and he was fully aware of it, yet not by one look or gesture did he acknowledge or notice them. He knew intimately of each lady’s youth and beauty, but at this moment he had eyes only for the queen’s most precious person. She was well pleased with him. The black pupils of her eyes glittered. “You may leave us now. The queen would be alone with her Sea God.”
    Before the door to the privy chamber had fully closed behind her ladies, Shane swept Elizabeth into strong arms and strode with her down the room to the chair of state. “Bess, I’m starved for the sight of you!” Hawkhurst knew she loved a man to be independent and daring. She could not stomach weakness in a man.
    “Put me down! God’s blood, you are a bold