The Queen and the Courtesan Read Online Free Page B

the Swiss alliance?’
    â€˜Then this is a trifling sum by comparison. I wish her to have status and privacy, away from her meddling father. I demand that you make the payment forthwith.’
    Knowing he had no choice but to obey, the wily superintendent of finances made one final effort to change his monarch’s mind. The next morning, approaching the King while Henry took breakfast, he slowly and deliberately counted out the coins, in small pieces of silver, spreading the piles across the table in order to demonstrate how large a sum this greedy courtesan had demanded.
    The gesture made not the slightest difference. The King’s decision was final.
    A small château and the estate of Bois-Lancy in the Orléannois was purchased and the deeds sent to Mademoiselle d’Entragues, together with the balance of the money in silver to her father. Henry ordered Henriette to leave Malesherbes and wait upon him there.
    Instead, infuriated by the lack of an appointment for himself and his son, Balzac refused to allow his daughter to leave.
    As anticipated, Henry quickly followed.
    â€˜Led like a fool by the nose, or by the demands of the heat in his breeches,’ Balzac scorned, smirking with satisfaction as the King’s entourage clattered into the courtyard. ‘Order refreshment for His Majesty, wife, and put on your best smile. As for you, daughter, remember the stakes we play for are high.’ As if Henriette needed any reminder.
    The royal patience might be rapidly failing but Henry could not bear it when a woman wept upon his shoulder, as Henriette was doing now, pressing her warm voluptuous body against his as she proclaimed her distress over her father’s obstinacy. Henriette strived not to flinch or recoil at the stink of horse flesh emanating from him, and the sweat he’d worked up on a long hard ride.
    Henry’s resolve to have her remained strong. ‘What more can I do for you, my beloved? You already have my heart, a fine château, and your father a small fortune in silver.’
    She stroked a soft hand over his cheek, playfully tweaked his beard and ran a finger over that sensuous lower lip of his, hearing the low groan of desire deep in his throat. ‘I would surrender to your will this day, this very moment, but my father will not allow it. He wants more. I confess he is a greedy, cruel man who will beat me if I do not obey his wishes,’ Henriette lied.
    Fearful of losing her when the promised prize was tantalizingly within his grasp, his hands circled the tiny waist to press her ever closer, hoping to ease the ache in his loins. ‘What is it he wants from me this time?’
    â€˜I dare not say. It is too shocking.’ Pushing the King gently away, Henriette retreated to the window and hid her face in her hands, praying he would follow. ‘I swear I do not possess the courage to communicate his demands to Your Majesty.’
    â€˜Tell me, my sweet, and I swear I will not blame you, whatever they may be.’
    Feeling his arms come about her she closed her eyes in relief and allowed herself to sink back against his broad chest. Then catching a breath in her throat, Henriette spoke quickly, as if in fear. ‘My father the Marquis will never consent to my becoming your mistress unless he receives a written promise, signed by Your Majesty’s hand, that you will offer me marriage, provided that within a year I successfully give you a son.’
    Turning in his arms she gazed lovingly up into his face, and saw a small frown gather upon his brow. Henriette hastened to lay the blame squarely upon her father. ‘I did try to point out the futility of such a demand, but my arguments were in vain. My father declares that he seeks only to preserve the honour of his house.’
    â€˜Does one hundred thousand livres not soften his loss sufficiently that he must demand more?’
    Henriette felt the smallest panic start up in her breast as she pressed