“I would like to stay, thank you, your grace. My lodgings are a bit Spartan, just at present,” Roger answered hastily. The prince smiled again and left his guest to apply himself rather diligently to the wine.
The next few days, or rather evenings, followed the pattern of the first, much to Roger’s delight, for he hated mornings and found that the prince’s largely nocturnal habits suited him. He was restless, however, and pleasantly surprised late one afternoon to learn that he had a visitor. Robin had ferreted him out. He had been shown into the small parlor, and stood toying with a jeweled reliquary from a niche in the mantelpiece. He turned and smiled at Roger, dazzling in his white silk and tawny velvet. Roger, clad at the prince’s expense in silk brocade of cornflower blue, smiled back and indicated the chairs that waited by the fire.
“Well, Roger, you do seem to have landed on your feet for once,” Essex drawled and Roger laughed. “Have you sounded your host upon our enterprise, then? No? Well, perhaps that is just as well. There is a chance, a strong chance that all might be resolved sooner. My stepfather, Blount, is arranging a moonlight hunt at Oatlands in a week’s time, weather permitting. The Queen will ride Black Auster,” his voice sunk to a whisper, as he outlined his daring plan, to Roger’s growing dismay.
“But Robin,” he fairly squeaked, “there’s too much that can go wrong! She’s an old woman! The shock might well kill her, even if she kept her seat. And if she fell. . . . ” his voice trailed off at the amused expression on his companion’s face.
“You worry too much, Roger. It would take more than that to shock old Bess, and the horse has never been foaled that could throw that harpy, once she hasher talons set,” Essex retorted then rose from his chair to greet the man stepping through the door.
“You honor my poor house, my lord,” his host said smoothly, with the slightest inclination of his head. Essex answered with a bow of supercilious courtesy.
Damn the man, Roger thought to himself. No matter how good Robin’s intentions might be, Kryštof brought out all the earl’s pride and insolence. Robin could barely manage to be civil even though they could use Kryštof and his considerable resources in their enterprise, and his recent disgrace should have served to play him into their hands. The prince was just standing there, viewing them with a look of dry amusement that could not have incensed Essex more if it had been by intent. Robin muttered his excuses and fled, and the expression that crossed his face upon noting the companionable hand the prince had dropped on Roger’s shoulder boded ill. Roger grimaced, as once outside, Robin soothed his feelings by speaking sharply to the stableman, and spurring his horse into a canter from a standing start. Imagining Robin out of sorts for the rest of the evening, losing at cards and snapping at the Queen, he smiled.
Chapter 3
Basking in the importance of his visitor, and wanting to impress me, Roger couldn’t wait to give news of the upcoming hunt. I had heard the allusions to Elizabeth’s abilities as a horsewoman, and the scorn underlying the words. I plied Roger with wine to relax him, and before morning had learned enough of the plot to be worried. I was happy to find that Roger was still susceptible to my suggestion, as I found that I had no desire at all for the pretty, petty boy. The seductiveness natural to the vampire roused his ardor to the point of foolhardiness, past even my powers of suggestion to gainsay it, adding to my distaste.
My first impulse was to discuss it all with Rózsa or Nicolas, but no, this was my problem, my country and Queen. I would see to it myself. I had to reclaim my life and independence, and the sooner I could prove to Geoffrey’s satisfaction that I no longer needed a keeper, the happier I should be.
The full moon silvered the frost that veiled the meadows and woods, deepening the shadows where I waited, watching the progress of the hunt. It was a perfect night; the cold was exhilarating rather than bitter. I watched the puffing breath of nobles and horses—my own left no trace upon the chilly air. There was a sudden clamor as a black horse broke away from the