Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Judith James
There is nothing left. The storm continued to rage outside. He sat where he was, cold and still till dawn.
CHAPTER TWO
Whitehall Palace, London
Miles to the south in a luxurious chamber overlooking the Thames a sharp crack of lightning jolted Hope Mathews from a troubled sleep. She pulled back the gold-embroidered bedspread and sat upright, heart pounding, and looked toward the open casement window. There was no rain yet, but it was close. The air had a metallic taste and a low rumble echoed in the distance, approaching from the east.
The fine hairs on the back of her arms stood on end and her breath quickened with excitement. Ever since she could remember, she had loved storms. The sight of lightening forking from a leaden sky, the sound of thunder rolling and grumbling ever closer, the power of the wind as it whistled and keened making all but the sturdiest buildings tremble filled her with awe and excitement tinged with a delicious thrill of fear.
She glanced at her royal lover, slumbering peacefully at her side. It amazed her still that the England’s king had reached so far to find her and place her by his side. Her face softened as he stirred in his sleep and a deep sadness tore at her heart. Despite his unrepentant promiscuity it was almost impossible not to fall under his spell. He was her third protector, but the first one she’d had any real feelings for. She was half in love with him, which she knew was foolish and forbidden, and she knew he was not in love with her. It hurt, but life was full of pain and she had survived other wounds. The path that had brought her to the bed of a king was a harsh one, strewn with heartache and bitter betrayal, dashed hopes and danger, and any feelings she had for Charles were not what mattered now.
She was not so foolish anymore as to dream of gallant knights or trust in anything as fickle and insubstantial as love…but security, independence, freedom…these might be in reach. The king would be married soon. His new queen would arrive on England’s shore’s any day.
Her world and his were about to change. She had fine clothes and rich jewels, a carriage and servants and a beautiful home on Pall Mall. The problem was, none of it was official and very little of it was hers. It was his money that paid the bills. She had no suite at the palace despite the many hours she spent wandering its halls, no lands or titles, and her beautiful home and servants were lent to her, not given.
Whenever she came to see him she was ushered up the stairs backing on the river, hidden from view—and at the end of her visits she went home the same way. As much as he treated her as friend and confidante in private, her lowly background meant that in public, she would always be treated not as a mistress, but as a whore, and what had been so easily given, could just as easily be taken away.She needed to ask for what she wanted, no matter her fears of how it might affect what lay between them.
What did one do after having a king as a lover? A slight smile played at the edge of her lips. Why, one retired to a respectable life! With a home of one’s own, a garden, a kitten, some travel, perhaps. But for that to happen, she needed his help and as yet she could not seem to broach it.
It took her a moment to notice that everything around her had gone quiet. The calm before the storm. Lightning flashed, silent in the distance, and a dog barked far away. She plucked a luxurious oversized robe from the edge of the bed. Lost in its folds, with sleeves rolled up and hem trailing on the floor behind her, she went to stand by the casement. The rain came in a sudden hiss, sweeping in great sheets from off the Thames, accompanied by a jagged bolt that lit the sky, bathing her face and the room in a ghostly glow. Fanciful as a child, eyes sparking with excitement, she loosened her grip on the robe and spread her arms wide, waiting for the clap of thunder she knew would come. The wind
CHAPTER TWO
Whitehall Palace, London
Miles to the south in a luxurious chamber overlooking the Thames a sharp crack of lightning jolted Hope Mathews from a troubled sleep. She pulled back the gold-embroidered bedspread and sat upright, heart pounding, and looked toward the open casement window. There was no rain yet, but it was close. The air had a metallic taste and a low rumble echoed in the distance, approaching from the east.
The fine hairs on the back of her arms stood on end and her breath quickened with excitement. Ever since she could remember, she had loved storms. The sight of lightening forking from a leaden sky, the sound of thunder rolling and grumbling ever closer, the power of the wind as it whistled and keened making all but the sturdiest buildings tremble filled her with awe and excitement tinged with a delicious thrill of fear.
She glanced at her royal lover, slumbering peacefully at her side. It amazed her still that the England’s king had reached so far to find her and place her by his side. Her face softened as he stirred in his sleep and a deep sadness tore at her heart. Despite his unrepentant promiscuity it was almost impossible not to fall under his spell. He was her third protector, but the first one she’d had any real feelings for. She was half in love with him, which she knew was foolish and forbidden, and she knew he was not in love with her. It hurt, but life was full of pain and she had survived other wounds. The path that had brought her to the bed of a king was a harsh one, strewn with heartache and bitter betrayal, dashed hopes and danger, and any feelings she had for Charles were not what mattered now.
She was not so foolish anymore as to dream of gallant knights or trust in anything as fickle and insubstantial as love…but security, independence, freedom…these might be in reach. The king would be married soon. His new queen would arrive on England’s shore’s any day.
Her world and his were about to change. She had fine clothes and rich jewels, a carriage and servants and a beautiful home on Pall Mall. The problem was, none of it was official and very little of it was hers. It was his money that paid the bills. She had no suite at the palace despite the many hours she spent wandering its halls, no lands or titles, and her beautiful home and servants were lent to her, not given.
Whenever she came to see him she was ushered up the stairs backing on the river, hidden from view—and at the end of her visits she went home the same way. As much as he treated her as friend and confidante in private, her lowly background meant that in public, she would always be treated not as a mistress, but as a whore, and what had been so easily given, could just as easily be taken away.She needed to ask for what she wanted, no matter her fears of how it might affect what lay between them.
What did one do after having a king as a lover? A slight smile played at the edge of her lips. Why, one retired to a respectable life! With a home of one’s own, a garden, a kitten, some travel, perhaps. But for that to happen, she needed his help and as yet she could not seem to broach it.
It took her a moment to notice that everything around her had gone quiet. The calm before the storm. Lightning flashed, silent in the distance, and a dog barked far away. She plucked a luxurious oversized robe from the edge of the bed. Lost in its folds, with sleeves rolled up and hem trailing on the floor behind her, she went to stand by the casement. The rain came in a sudden hiss, sweeping in great sheets from off the Thames, accompanied by a jagged bolt that lit the sky, bathing her face and the room in a ghostly glow. Fanciful as a child, eyes sparking with excitement, she loosened her grip on the robe and spread her arms wide, waiting for the clap of thunder she knew would come. The wind
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