His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 148: She Was Distressed

Livia nodded. Richard helped her into the carriage. The footman closed the door. The latch clicked.

A groom brought Richard’s horse forward. Richard mounted, gathered the reins, and took his place behind the carriage as it rolled out of Whitehall.

Soon they were on Chancery Lane, bound for the Lord Chancellor’s residence. His thoughts were caught on one thing.

Why had she not told him about Henry? She had mentioned meeting His Highness, yes, as calmly as one might mention meeting a tailor. Nothing that suggested Henry had turned the earth beneath her feet.

And yet perhaps that was worse. Was silence proof that the meeting meant nothing? Or proof that it meant too damned much?

Was she being noble? Was she sparing him? God, he would rather be shot than pitied. Was she still attracted to Henry?

The rest of the evening passed quickly. At the Lord Chancellor’s house, Livia told him everything. Every detail of what she had seen.

Richard listened. Asked questions where he had to. She told him everything but not what he expected.

At some point, he wanted to ask, but asking was admitting guilt. It meant he would have to tell her he knew who Henry was long before now.

Richard led her to the chamber that had been prepared for her the previous night. The chamber was warm. A fire had been lit in the grate. Fresh linen had been turned down. A basin of clean water waited on the washstand, along with a cake of lavender soap and a folded towel. The maids had placed a small vase of late flowers near the window.

Livia stepped inside slowly. Richard remained near the door. "When are we leaving for Kingsmere?" Livia asked.

"When do you wish to leave?"

"I do not know..." She moved toward the fire, holding her hands out to the warmth. "I should like to stay longer for Lady Bella, but I do have the Cresswell girls to consider."

"I saw Bella’s mother when she arrived at Whitehall," he said. "She was distressed, naturally, but she has command enough to manage matters from now on. Bella will not be alone."

Livia nodded, though her gaze stayed on the fire. "Of course."

"Is there any reason you wish to stay?"

She turned, brows drawing together. "No. Why?"

Because Henry is there.

Because I am a jealous bastard.

Because every time you do not mention him, I feel both relieved and ready to tear the truth out of you.

Because I do not know what your silence means.

He said none of that. "I am merely checking in with you. It has been a long day, and I do not want to drag you from London if there is something unfinished here. If it is agreeable to you... we may leave tomorrow."

"Of course," Livia said. "That is all right."

It was not, perhaps, entirely all right. Nothing about the day had been all right. An assassin targeting Bella. Henry’s sudden appearance in her life.

"I do have to talk to you, Diana," he said.

Livia glanced up at him. "Yes," she said, studying his face. "It seemed as though something had been weighing on your mind since Whitehall."

Richard smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "I had hoped I was being more subtle."

"You were not."

Richard crossed the room then and took her hand. He guided her to the edge of the bed and sat beside her. "The king has assigned me to leave for France immediately... As ambassador."

Henry had done this and she knew, with a certainty that made her stomach tighten, that this benevolence from the king was not merely for the country.

Still, Livia reached for the safest expression. Surprise and delight.

"Really?" she said brightly. "That is wonderful. That is quite the honour."

Richard’s gaze sharpened. "Is it?"

Her smile faltered. "Is it not?"

"It depends on you, Diana." His voice dropped. "I would hate to leave you all by yourself in Kingsmere so soon."

"It is soon?" Livia asked, her brows drawing together. "How soon?"

"Immediately," he said. "Before the royal wedding, I believe."

"What?" Livia cried. "How about our wedding?"

Richard let out a quiet breath. Relief crossed his face. She was angry about the wedding. She was angry because she still expected to marry him.

It was absurd, the amount of comfort he drew from one woman’s outrage. It was also the best thing that had happened to him all day.

He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to her fingers. "I wanted to move the wedding up," he said against her skin, then lowered her hand but did not release it. "Unfortunately, I was informed the church cannot solemnise any private marriages until after the royal wedding."

Anger rose in her chest, but not because of the delay. The delay was only another piece. Richard being sent to France. The Church suddenly unavailable.

No, this was not misfortune. This was Henry’s design. Livia looked away, staring at the fire.

"I do not believe this," she sighed.

Then she looked back at him.

"What are we going to do?"

"We get married in France," Richard said.

A laugh rose somewhere in her throat, but it caught there, tangled with disbelief.

"You want me to come with you?" she asked.

"Yes," he said quickly. "If..." He stopped, cleared his throat, then tried again with absolutely no improvement. "I mean, if you want to."

A smile broke across her face. Before he could prepare himself, she threw her arms around him.

"Thank you," she breathed.

His arms came around her as he shut his eyes.

God.

After all his fears, all his jealous thoughts, all the miserable torment he had invented for himself, she was here, holding him, choosing him.

"I should be thanking you," he murmured into her hair, "for being this excited to go with me."

She drew back. "Most men would jump at the opportunity to be away from their wives so they can, you know..." Her mouth twitched. "Be free."