Traitor's Kiss Read Online Free Page B

remembered how my stepfather had tickled my arm and I did not want to pull my hand away. “Hello, sweet Robert. Where have you been this summer?” The bodice of my new dress was so thick with pearls that I could not breathe deeply. Not for me the fiery colours of the sun, but the colours of the moon: white and cream and silver – and pearls to cool my Tudor hair. I am not beautiful, I know that. My nose is too big for my face and my eyes are too small for it. My skin is sallow, like my mother’s. But I am thought to be beautiful when I laugh and sparkle.
    â€œMy mother won’t stay in London for fear of the plague.” Robert was staring at me and I twirled around for him. “Am I beautiful?” I asked.
    â€œYou’re like the moon and the stars,” he said. “You’re like the Queen of the Fairies.”
    â€œI don’t believe in fairies.”
    â€œNeither did I, until I saw you,” he replied.
    How easily we slipped back into our childhood teasing. Robert handed me a sugar plate, wrapped in a silver cloth. Underneath were miniature marzipan oranges, each one bite-size, each one sparkling with sugar. I laughed. Jane clapped her hands, bright-eyed. I startled at the sight of her. I had not noticed that she was standing there.
    â€œRobert and I used to steal oranges from my father’s hothouse,” I told her.
    â€œThen we ate them hidden in the foliage,” Robert said. He put a miniature orange into my mouth and one into Jane’s. “Welcome to London, Lady Jane,” he said. “Have you felt the lash of Bess’s tongue yet?”
    She blushed. Like me, she wore white. But white needs a woman’s shape. It is not the colour for a puny body and pale eyes.
    Thomas Seymour watched us. He repelled me, yet he made my heartbeat quicken. He filled the room with his presence, as my father had.
    â€œRed Beard is scowling tonight,” Robert said.
    It was our nickname for my stepfather. Once I would have laughed. Now my eyes brimmed with tears, for I had felt so many emotions that day. “He’s as cunning as a fox,” I whispered. “He brushed my neck with that beard this morning and thought it amusing. Robert, he came into my bedchamber.”
    â€œWhat? You must tell Kat, or Lady Catherine.”
    I shook my head. “No. She deserves to be happy. I won’t let it happen again.”
    â€œIf he harms you, I’ll kill him.”
    â€œDoes he think I’m easy prey, Robert? Does he think I’m like my mother?” Jane was listening, eyes widening. Dusk was casting its shadows across the garden and gusts of wind came in, bringing the stench of mud from the river. In my mind, I saw Francis’s pale face, his livid sores, the silver box. “Go away, little cousin,” I said. “We’ve grown-up things to talk about.”
    Robert gave her another orange and, reluctant, she left us.
    I did not know how to begin. So I blurted it out. “Robert, will you do something for me?”
    â€œYes. Anything.”
    â€œWill you be my eyes?”
    â€œIf you’ll be my lips.” He leaned over, as if to kiss me. He had never done that before. We had played childish games together, but they had never included kissing. We were too well chaperoned. My heart quickened as it had when Thomas Seymour had tickled me. I wanted him to kiss me, but I drew away. Tittle-tattle had told me this was the sort of thing my mother had done.
    â€œIce Queen,” he teased. “What will it take to melt you?”
    â€œBe serious. I want you to find a boy for me…”
    He laughed. “Wouldn’t you rather have a man? Who is he, this rival for my affections?”
    â€œIt’s not him . I want to speak to his mother. She was my mother’s lady-in-waiting.”
    â€œAh… They’re the most vicious. They’re hard-hearted creatures, because they’re close to power, but they don’t