His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 216: Take Whatever Security You Can

Livia’s steps slowed. "The last thing I want is for him to suffer because of me."

"What happened to you was not your fault, my lady. Unfortunately," Tabitha continued, "fault has very little to do with how society judges a woman. A man may keep mistresses in three counties, father children in every direction, and still be praised for his vigour. But let a woman be seen receiving affection from one man outside marriage, and suddenly everyone becomes deeply concerned about morality."

Livia sank back onto the chaise. "You speak as though I have entertained half the men in England."

Tabitha hesitated.

Livia narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Well, is that not—" Tabitha stopped, visibly reconsidering the wisdom of the sentence.

Livia stared at her in disbelief. "Tabitha... I have only ever been with the king and His Grace."

"Oh." Tabitha blinked, then gave Livia a long, considering look. "That detail was not included in the hurried account of your history. I simply assumed there had been others. Well, your life contains enough scandal for three women. It seemed unreasonable to suppose the gentlemen were limited to two."

"Tabitha!"

"I said I had assumed," she replied, raising both hands in surrender. "Now that I know otherwise, the uproar may not be quite as ruinous as I feared."

Livia folded her arms. "How comforting."

Tabitha returned to the open chest, lifting out a gown and shaking the creases from its skirts. "You may still have a good life, Livia...Perhaps even a happy one. But until your position becomes clearer, you must be wise."

Livia’s mouth tightened. "I am not the king’s woman though."

"That is not how the court will see it."

"I do not care what the court thinks."

"You should." Tabitha laid the gown across an ottoman and turned to her. "For now, you are under the king’s protection. We do not know how long his favour will last, nor what may happen once he is married. Therefore, take whatever security you can."

"What do you mean?"

"Wealth," Tabitha said plainly. "Jewels. Coin. Property, if he offers it."

Livia looked appalled. "You want me to profit from him?"

Tabitha shrugged. Her advice sounded mercenary, but there was no greed in her face. Women without rank, family, or fortune did not have the luxury of relying upon sentiment. Love did not pay servants or purchase safety.

Livia lowered herself onto the edge of the chaise. "Is Richard still in the Tower?"

"No. His Majesty had him released and removed from London immediately after the attempt on the king’s life."

"Why?"

"The king feared suspicion would fall upon him. Richard had motive enough and being imprisoned would not prevent his her grace from claiming he arranged the attack."

"Where did he send him?"

"To France. He should be across the Channel by now, or close to it."

Livia gazed at the floor, the patterns in the carpet blurring before her eyes. "He’s gone."

"He’ll be back, surely."

"We were supposed to be aboard that ship together, Tabitha," Livia said, her voice thinning around the words. "We were meant to build a life. Marry. Have children."

"Perhaps someday."

"Yes," Livia murmured. "Perhaps someday."

But the promise sounded hollow even to her. Richard might return. Henry might release her. What if in the mean time Henry’s patience finally broke? What if he forced himself on her? He was the king. If he decided her refusal no longer mattered, who would stand between them?

Worse still was the cruel question that followed: if she yielded because resistance had been stripped from her, would Richard understand? Would he still want her?

Did she even want him to wait? How long could any man be expected to hold his life still while a king decided when he was finished with the woman he loved?

Perhaps Richard’s Chapter had to end. He had given her tenderness when she needed it, safety when she had none, and a glimpse of a life that belonged to them alone.

She would have to make a future for herself. She looked around the chamber again. The tall windows flooded the room with pale light. Rich tapestries softened the walls, their colours deep and carefully chosen. The tables, embroidered cushions had been arranged perfectly.

Stephen had worked magic here. Covent Garden had been lovely in its own way. But this possessed a grandeur that demanded attention. Everything had been selected with care, balanced between comfort and magnificence.

If she allowed herself the comparison, it was every bit as grand as the Queen Mother’s chamber. Livia rose from the chaise and wandered into the adjoining chamber, which was separated from the sitting room by a heavy embroidered curtain.

She stopped just beyond it. The bed was enormous. It stood upon a raised platform beneath a carved canopy, its curtains made from rich fabric. Livia suspected five people could sleep upon it comfortably.

Wax candles sat within polished wall sconces at several points around the chamber, positioned to cast a warm glow after sunset. Near the windows stood a broad dressing table with a silver mirror resting upon it, along with ivory combs, glass perfume bottles, and small covered boxes whose contents she dared not investigate.

Everything had been arranged for her comfort. It left her feeling as though invisible hands were slowly fastening golden chains around her wrists.

If this was the life prepared for a king’s acknowledged mistress, what splendour awaited his queen?

She imagined larger chambers, more servants, jewels presented by ambassadors, gowns embroidered with pearls, and every luxury England could produce. Livia sighed and dismissed the thought. The French princess’s future was none of her concern. She already had quite enough trouble managing her own without borrowing another woman’s misery.

She returned to the outer chamber and helped Tabitha unpack the remaining cases. Tabitha objected at first, insisting that such work should be left to servants, but Livia refused to sit idle.

Besides, she needed something practical to occupy her hands.

*****

Bella was the first person to welcome Livia properly to Whitehall. As usual, Bella arrived with an activity already planned. On this occasion, they visited the court dressmaker.

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