The Pirate and the Pagan by Virginia Henley Read Free Book Online

demurred.
    She flushed because Charles had been kindness itself to her. Others may have laughed at her foreign clothes, speech, and manners, but never Charles. A tiny sob escaped her lips. “It is
that woman
again,” she said, lifting reproachful eyes to him.
    Charles kept a wise silence.
    “It has come to my ears that she has demanded you make her a countess.” She stamped her slippered foot in determination. “I do not wish it!”
    “My dear, if I choose to honor Mrs. Palmer, try to understand that it in no way dishonors you.”
    “’Tis like a slap in the face to flaunt her before me.” Catherine’s sallow face flushed a dark red.
    Charles glanced wistfully at the bed where the two spaniels had stretched out to make themselves comfortable, then he sat down on its edge. “Catherine, there is no dishonor to have been mistress to the King. You wish me to end the liaison, but it would be most unkind of me to simply cast her off. The whole court would ostracize her. Like a wolf pack they would rend her to shreds. By bestowing the honor of a title upon her, I fulfill my obligation to the lady. Surely you will be generous in this, Catherine.”
    “What obligation?” she flared.
    Charles had a dominant mother who had tried to bully him all his life. Simply because he was good-natured, most women thoughtthey could control him. They could not. “She has just borne me a son. It is no secret.”
    Catherine burst into tears. “I’ve heard the whispers … you think I’m barren!”
    He gathered her close and tipped her face up to his. “I think no such thing, sweetheart. I’ll put an end to the whispers tonight,” he said, drawing off her nightgown and removing his brocade robe. In the wide bed, he nudged the dogs over with his long thigh and took Catherine into his arms. She hid her face against his broad chest and bathed him with her tears. With infinite patience he cradled her until she had cried herself out. She was extremely slim and her breasts were as underdeveloped as a girl of eleven, but he stroked her gently and thumbed her tiny nipples. He kissed her a half-dozen times then murmured firmly, “The matter of Lady Castlemaine is closed.” He purposely used the title he was about to bestow upon Barbara.
    In a small voice Catherine said, “I’m afraid it isn’t.” She hesitated a moment then blurted, “I asked Chancellor Hyde not to allow Parliament to sanction her title.”
    Charles was furious. Though the Queen seemed sweet and biddable in most things, in this she was determined to thwart him. He threw back the covers and set his long legs to the carpet. “Good night, madame,” he said coldly.
    “Charles, where are you going?” she gasped piteously.
    The King did not bother to reply. He thought his destination was patently obvious. He went out through the privy garden and took a shortcut to King’s Street which ran through the palace grounds. Barbara Palmer’s fashionable house was situated most conveniently. It was almost 2:30 in the morning, but he felt confident that she would welcome him with open arms.
    Her household servants did not bat an eye as the King of England made his stealthy way up the stairs to milady’s chamber. Barbara was in bed, fortunately alone, but when she heard the familiar step she was awake instantly.
    “Don’t get up, darling, I’ll join you in a moment,” Charles said, removing his coat.
    Barbara threw aside the covers, lighted a dozen candles, and stood before him, her ample charms displayed in a pale lavender nightgown. His eyes darkened with desire, but she held up a forbidding hand. “Sire, we must talk.”
    He sighed. She wouldn’t use a formal title unless she wished todiscuss something serious. “We’ll talk later, Babs, just looking at you has made me hard as marble.” He was on her in two long strides. His practiced, skillful hands pulled the straps of her nightgown from her shoulders, baring her heavy breasts to his heated gaze. He lifted one in