Queen's Guard 01 The Queen's Guard: Violet Page 9

  “Sorry.” Bella took a step and almost tripped over Catherine’s sewing basket but managed to walk the rest of the way without mishap. “Here.”

  With a frail smile, Sarah took the paper. “Thank you. What does the emperor want, eh? God willing he won’t require my services until, oh dear …” Sarah gulped, scanning the page. “Tonight. He wishes to see me tonight, or he will tell pious King Louis I am a whore.”

  Bella gasped, but before any of the women could say another word, Mamie’s bawdy laughter boomed outside the room.

  Mamie threw the door open with such force it bounced, almost hitting her in the rear as she backed into the room while facing her admirers in the hall. “Thank you for the escort, boys,” she said with a laugh and a theatrical wave to the half dozen soldiers. Her hair was a tangled mess, her clothes awry, and as she swiveled on her heel to enter the chamber, Bella could see Mamie’s full lips bruised purple with kisses.

  The soldiers turned as one disciplined unit, although at least three wore huge smiles. “You are all darling. You really are,” she called to their retreating figures, then slammed the door and turned to her roommates.

  “What was that about?” Bella said. “The last time we saw you, you were being, er, chastised by John Axuch.”

  “Privately,” Sarah called from her fabric cave.

  “Chastised.” The redhead paused and inhaled as if to regain some sort of composure. “It was”—she grinned, showing all her pretty white teeth—”invigorating. The commander knows how to keep his subordinates in line. Impressive, really.” Mamie sighed with pleasure, fanning her cheeks with her fingers.

  “Invigorating?” Fay scampered close and inspected Mamie for any signs of abuse. “Really?”

  “Really. I hope to be in trouble such as this for our entire stay. John told me he wishes the same,” she added with a snicker.

  “You are terrible, Mamie,” Catherine said, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “We’ve been worried.”

  “I was but fulfilling my quest.” Mamie sank onto the couch, putting her stocking-clad feet on a footstool and resting her hands in her lap.

  “Where are your shoes?” Bella stared at Mamie’s feet.

  “I was wearing my military boots, and he confiscated them along with my shield and sword. Thought he had me defenseless, but I showed him otherwise.” Mamie cupped her breasts, then immediately returned her hands to her lap. “I’m exhausted, I tell you.”

  “And did you learn anything new? Besides the shape of his cock?” Sarah flung back one panel of the canopy to get a good look at her friend and fellow guard.

  “He has impressive weaponry.” Mamie waggled her red brows. “A warrior should always know the enemy before going into battle. This was a simple reconnaissance mission.”

  “You learned nothing.” Sarah crossed her arms, the letter clutched in one hand.

  “I wouldn’t say so. I saw the maps on his desk as I was sprawled over the top. Perhaps the ink transferred itself to my arse? We’ll have a look, although I daresay the ink would be smudged.”

  Fay burst into giggles and slapped her knee. “Mamie, you are too much.”

  “How long are we to be here? Has anyone gotten confirmation?” Mamie crossed her ankles.

  “Ten more days. Maybe less. I spoke briefly with Eleanor today,” Catherine said. “She regrets not sending word earlier, but she and Empress Irene have been busy with much more to see. Our pleasure-loving queen wants to absorb it all and bring back ideas for her own palace, no doubt.”

  “Nothing wrong with feeding your sensual side.” Mamie yawned as her stomach loudly rumbled. “Speaking of which, I’m starving.”

  Sarah’s plump lower lip inched out. “Each of you gathered some piece of information today while I lay abed like a slattern. I’m going to see the emperor tonight.”

  “No!” Bella drew all the curtains back and climbed onto the bed. “You talked to the stable boy about the soldiers. Sarah, you’ve been ill. Send a note asking to delay another day.”

  “It’s no excuse.” She slid off the other side of the bed. “I’m going.” Sarah’s beautiful brow furrowed as she smoothed out the wrinkled page. “He tells me I have one chance to entertain his mighty stallion, and if he does not find me satisfactory, he will tell our very religious king there is a Jezebel in his midst.”

  “Can he do that?” Bella looked at the other ladies in the room. “Surely the queen …”

  “I should have been more discreet,” Sarah confessed, her pink mouth twisted. “I knew it at the time, but I didn’t listen to my instincts. I’ve been unsettled since we arrived.” She leaned against the bedpost.

  Bella’s heart went out to her friend. “What can we do?”

  Sarah seemed to search inwardly before shoving herself away from the bed. Her gorgeous, angelic ivory and rose complexion heated, and her eyes sparkled with determination. “I must give the emperor the night of his life. Saints forbid I become a tease as well.”

  “Don’t go,” Catherine pleaded, obviously on the verge of tears. “I have a bad feeling about this. Let the emperor say what he must. The queen will protect you.”

  ”We’re in the Eastern Roman Empire, on our way to reclaim a holy city from the infidel. What chance will our queen have against accusations that ring true?” Sarah’s soft beauty hardened.

  Bella reached out to squeeze Sarah’s arm. “I would do the same if our situations were reversed.” Even though it could be a mistake, it was a chance a member of the Queen’s Guard must take.

  Her friend nodded her appreciation.

  Fay picked up her basket of cosmetics and patted the stool in front of her. “Have a seat, Sarah. You are the epitome of western beauty, which is why the emperor finds you so intriguing. Your rose and cream skin, your cornflower-blue eyes. By the end of this night, he will be begging you for favors and apologizing for his threats.”

  Catherine sighed, then nodded. “How can I help you? Should you wear a formal gown?”

  Mamie stood, her hand going to her back as if it ached. “Oof. Think I pulled something. Catherine, let’s do the crimson robe, with naught but lacy undergarments beneath.”

  Sarah lifted her chin. “Perfect.”

  Bella looked at each of her friends and fellow guards. She wasn’t completely powerless. There was one thing she could do to ensure her friend’s safety. “I’ll be back before you go, Sarah, all right? Wait for me.”

  With a flutter of her hand, Sarah agreed and continued preparing.

  Bella rushed from the chamber to find Raoul and ask him why the emperor had sent a slave boy to do Raoul’s job.

  Raoul soaked in the hot spring, his body tired and aching after drilling the soldiers. His mind whirled with political intrigue, which he detested but mastered to keep Manuel safe from treachery. Raoul preferred his rules black and white with no gray.

  King Louis had gotten past the emperor’s defenses with his obvious piety and devotion to all things godly, which was fine, just, and honorable. But the king had aides and guards as well, some no doubt less noble.

  Like that Odo bastard, constantly sniffing around and asking questions of the slaves. Invited guest of the emperor or no, the king’s chaplain would be missing his hand if he did not obey the laws of Constantinople.

  Raoul stood, the steamy water sluicing off his body, awakening his cock. He met the needs of the flesh whenever the desire arose, but his heart remained closed. Trust nobody. The traitor Raymond of Antioch and Raoul’s whore of a sister had taught him that lesson the hard way. His belly cramped, and he stepped from the spring, burying the image of his dead wife and son in the recesses of memory.

  The memory of violet eyes sprung to the fore, despite his attempts during drills to have it beaten out. Lady Isabella’s delicate features stayed fixed, especially the way she’d tossed her head back as she laughed without restraint.

  Her delight in the play, the jewelry, and the charbet was innocent, reminding him of when he’d enjoyed life. His ange
r stemmed from being tempted by her laughter. In the five years since he’d lost everything, he’d built a fortress around his heart as thick and impregnable as Constantinople’s walls. Nobody would get through.

  Raoul swept damp hair back from his forehead, grateful King Roger had tried to ram his way into the city this afternoon when he had. Raoul had been close to kissing the lady senseless, disregarding the rules.

  In less than a fortnight King Louis, Queen Eleanor, and their retinue would be gone, and life would return to normal. Battle. His muscles flexed. Guarding Manuel. Decapitating the Turks. But wait, Manuel had just signed a peace treaty with the bastards.

  How could Manuel sleep at night knowing he’d done such a thing?

  And suddenly King Roger’s army had swelled with soldiers. Raoul knew in his bones that underneath Roger’s colors at least half of his army had Turkish skin and a penchant for betrayal.

  Raoul dried himself with a vigorous shake, spraying water droplets, then walked to the stone bench where his tunic lay. Now that the emperor was of a mind to trust in King Louis and his promise of not starting a war against Constantinople, Manuel would be busy showing him all the delights of the ancient city, including the Hippodrome. He pulled his tunic down over his chest and tugged on his pants.

  Making his way through the secret tunnel to the outside cages where the animals were kept, he wondered which would provide the most entertainment at the least cost to the city. Elephants? Giraffes? Lions? Something with little bloodshed in deference to King Louis. He walked out on the path.

  “Master Raoul?” A palace slave, barefoot and dressed in a beige toga, called out to him.

  “Hmm?” Raoul crossed his arms and glared at the messenger. Not from Manuel, who would use a royal slave. Possibly something from John.

  “Lady Isabella de Lacey asks that you meet her in the courtyard. By the fountain.”

  Damn it. He had been too kind to her today, and now she thought to make him her lover. Did he want the hassle of her emotions once it was time for her to depart with her queen? He’d had time to think and couldn’t stop recalling her mouth or her eyes—no, it was better to stay away from the lady. She didn’t seem the sort to tumble and move on.

  “No.” He shook his head, damp curls slapping against his chin.

  The messenger blinked. “No?”

  “If you can’t hear clearly, come here and I will box your ears for you.” Raoul jerked his thumb to the left. “Go.”

  Turning on his heel, the messenger ran back toward the palace.

  Raoul had been too harsh. Again. He would hear about it from the emperor at the evening meal if he did not make amends to the messenger and the lady.

  He growled in his throat.

  Women.

  CHAPTER 9

  Raoul entered the courtyard from a side door in the wall. The setting sun lent a golden glow to the fountain bubbling in the center. Marble statues of old Romans stood guard as various people milled about. The bronze statue of Athena stood proudly near the fountain.

  Lady Isabella wore a simple sheath that covered her from neck to toe. Ivory and violet with an embroidered hem. In the soft gold light, she could be the goddess Athena come to life. Why did she always make him think of the impossible? His feelings for this woman defied logic. He didn’t like it.

  Her ebony hair was barely covered by a sheer ivory scrap of silk, held in place by a violet circlet. The messenger told her his answer, and he thought he detected a trace of amusement at the boy’s discomfort before she gifted him with a small coin and dismissed him.

  He spoke from behind her shoulder. “You should not give them money.”

  “Oh!” She jumped, covering her mouth with a hand. “You startled me. The boy said you refused to come.”

  “Here I am. What do you need?”

  Her eyes dilated, but her expression remained serene. “Nothing you can’t freely give, monsieur.”

  Raoul rested his hands at his sides and deliberately looked bored. “What then?”

  Her chin lifted as if she’d like to tell him to go to the devil, but then she lowered it and smiled, gesturing to the wooden bench opposite the fountain. “Won’t you please sit? We can pretend to be friends. Oh, but wait, you say a man and a woman cannot be friends.”

  The queen’s lady freely shared her sarcastic tongue. It was his own fault for allowing her to speak her mind. She’d gotten comfortable. He followed her, sitting at the edge of the bench, as far away as he could without falling off.

  “I have a question.” She held up her hand as if that would stop him from commenting. “One question, and then you can go back to fighting or whatever it is you do when you aren’t scowling at me.” She took a deep breath. “You told me this afternoon you are in charge of the emperor’s entertainment”

  Bella’s attempt at delicacy made his lips twitch. “I get him whores, yes.”

  She inhaled sharply, then flattened her mouth into a tight line.

  He waited as he imagined her disapproval. She gave away her apprehension by pressing her hands together. Now that he knew she’d been raised in a convent, it made sense that she would spend a lot of time in prayer.

  She finally spoke. “The emperor sent a letter directly to Sarah this afternoon, threatening to have her named a whore to our king if she did not comply with his wishes to meet tonight.”

  Internally, Raoul prepared to find out what the hell was going on. Manuel never looked for women on his own. How could Raoul ensure his safety? He shrugged to demonstrate nonchalance. “So? Doesn’t the ruler of this great city have the right to do what he wants when he wants?”

  Bella shifted on the bench. “I should not have bothered you.” She stared ahead. “I thought you would want to know someone is acting in your stead.”

  “Why do you say that?” Raoul sat perfectly still, though he wondered too.

  “The slave boy was dressed in purple livery, so he was obviously sent by a royal or someone with access to those services.” She separated her hands and curled her fingers around the edge of the bench, leaning forward but with her head turned so she could skewer him with her gaze. “But why would a man who wants to bed a woman—a woman who has shown her willingness for bed sport—threaten her? Being named a whore does not make it easier to act like one.”

  He inwardly conceded the point. Usually Manuel was suave as a moonlit night. “Has Sarah left already? Where was she to meet the emperor?”

  “I brought the letter.” She reached into a small ivory purse at her waist and pulled out a crumpled note.

  He took it and stood, quickly shoving the paper in his tunic before unwanted eyes might see.

  She rose as well, the top of her head not reaching the height of his chin. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll look into this. See that the emperor is unharmed by the blonde whor—” He stopped at the warning look on Isabella’s face. “Woman.”

  “Sarah would not harm the emperor. She finds him attractive. That is all.” She paused. “I will come with you.”

  “No.” He glowered for good measure.

  “Oui. I read the message, and I will find the place myself if you do not take me.”

  He noted the determination in her rigid posture. He’d forgotten she was a guard for the queen all day. This was the first evidence that she might be good at it. “Why did you really come to me with this?”

  She slowly exhaled. “It doesn’t feel right. We’re in a country foreign to us, and you are the only native I know. It took longer to find you than I thought, so I doubt Sarah waited for me. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her.”

  He understood the need to protect, so instead of sending Bella to her chamber, where she admittedly wouldn’t stay, he nodded once. “Be quiet. If you make a sound, I will knock you out cold.”

  Her violet eyes widened, and her chin trembled. He hoped the warning would be enough to send the lady back to her rooms.

  It was not.

  “I ac
cept your terms,” she said, her hand dropping to her hip.

  He was reminded that while she may have appeared sweet and defenseless, when he’d first seen the Lady Isabella, she’d worn a sword and had a quiver of arrows.

  Isabella’s knees quivered like undercooked eels as she followed Raoul from the courtyard. Not once did she worry that she herself was in danger—unless, of course, she made a noise.

  Sarah was to meet the emperor in the abandoned guard shack near the seawall. And of course, on pain of death, Sarah was to come alone. She hoped Catherine had sent word to Jonathon despite Mamie’s counsel against it. Her spine tingled with apprehension. Jonathon would be an ally, a friend in the shadows, a knight from Queen Eleanor’s court sworn to protect the honor of the Queen’s Guard.

  Yet when she thought of someone to keep her safe, Bella’s first choice had been Raoul. Odd, when she’d known the rude warrior for so little time. He’d been gruff at first and now probably regretted his offer of a tryst. It was for the best.

  True to her word, Bella kept her lips sealed as they made their way against the wall, hidden in shadow by the darkening sky. Raoul wordlessly helped her over a slick patch of water on the cobblestone, and she thanked him with an abrupt nod.

  Nerves caused her body to buzz as if she’d had too many cups of wine, but it was worry for her friend that twanged like an untuned harpsichord.

  “Stop.”

  Bella did but not fast enough to avoid kicking the back of Raoul’s boot. She didn’t apologize. It was his fault for halting so fast and then standing like a marble statue. Her toe throbbed.

  “Look there. Someone else is watching the shack.”

  Bella focused, unable to see any movement. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him it could be Jonathon, but before she could say anything Raoul was gone.

  She crouched, resting her rear against her heels as she waited in the eerie twilight. A time of magic, a time the nuns forbade her to go outside. Raoul had disappeared like a ghost, but then she saw him near the shack. Instead of using the front door, he went around toward the back.