Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2) (11 page)

General Monk, the kingmaker who’d fought for Parliament before turning his talents to engineering Charles Stuart’s return to the throne, stepped forward to greet him.

“Sir Robert Nichols! What a pleasure it is to see you, sir! You’ve been far too scarce in London as of late.” They exchanged a hearty handshake. “Where
have
you been, Captain? I’ve been trying to find you.”

“I have… I
had
…a small estate in Nottinghamshire, sir. I’ve left the field of battle for fields of grain, and fighting armies for battling floods and heavy rains.”

“Ah! Indeed, sir. I know it well. One
thinks
that’s what one wants. Away from the smoke and thunder. At last at little peace. But one grows bored. There’s a longing. Something’s missing and the days take on a sameness that… Do you know what I mean, Robert?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“As it happens, I may have a cure.”

“Sir?” Robert felt a keen thrill of anticipation. Could this be why the king had brought him here tonight? To take one thing away but give him another?

“You’re a superb warrior, Sir Robert, but more importantly for my purpose, you were always a man one could count on to keep a cool head, think for himself and get the job done. How do you like the sound of Colonel Nichols?”

“I like it, General! I—”

“General! I see you know our captain.” Charles Stuart came up behind them and embraced them both.

“I do indeed, sire. He’s a fine soldier. One that I—”

“And of course you’ve met Lord Rivers. A dear friend from my exile and a war hero himself. Allow me to introduce his lovely wife, Lady Elizabeth.”

The general bowed and kissed Elizabeth’s hand. “Congratulations, madam. All London has been abuzz about the capture. Only an extraordinary woman could manage such a feat.”

“Thank you, General. You’re very kind. But I assure you it was William who captured me.” She turned to Robert with a bright smile. “Oh, Robert, it’s so good to see you here! I miss our old visits and I worry about you all alone.”

Robert greeted them all with a formal bow but Elizabeth threw her arms around him and gave him a hug. As he set her back on her feet he took a quick glance at the handsome poet who had stolen her away. Though de Veres had never met him, he’d seen the man in taverns and coffeehouses on his sojourns to London. There was a brightness to his countenance he hadn’t seen there before.

The man stepped forward and offered his hand. “Lizzy has told me many times what a comfort you were to her in the past, Captain Nichols. I offer you my thanks for watching over her when I could not.”

Biting back a scathing reply, Robert managed a polite nod. This was the man who had put her in danger in the first place.

General Monk put a hand on his shoulder as if reclaiming ownership. “If it pleases you, Your Majesty, Sir Robert is a mighty fine soldier. I’ve a proposition to put to him regarding the Coldstream Guard.”

“Ah, reunions. Aren’t they grand? I had no idea the captain knew so many of my friends. But I’m afraid it will have to wait, General. In fact, I must ask you all to excuse us. As it happens the captain and I have business to discuss before the dancing begins. Will you forgive us?”

A beaming Elizabeth curtsied while the general and William responded with a bow. His Majesty put a companionable arm around Robert’s shoulder, led him into a small, dark paneled study, and closed and locked the door. He motioned for him to sit, and then poured them both a drink.

“Well, Captain. You’re doubtless wondering why you are here.”

“Indeed, Majesty, I am.”

“It is that tyrant Elizabeth de Veres’ doing. I am fond of her of course, but she’s been very cross with me for taking your lands.”

Robert clenched and unclenched his fists. “She had no business discussing it with you. I had not thought of her connection to you, nor did I seek her aid. I thought, as an old friend, she was discrete.” His voice was stiff. His words clipped.

Charles threw back his head and laughed. “Captain! You are a warrior, sir, and know little of the ways of women. Now you must accustom yourself to softer things. They are weaker than us physically, but any man who things them weaker in other ways, doesn’t know them at all. I, sir, make a study of them. I know them and love them very well.

“So one hears, sire. Might I ask your point?”

“Some women were born to be generals. Elizabeth is one such, as I’m certain you know, and she has chosen to champion your cause. You mustn’t be annoyed with her. She feels loyalty and affection for you. She values you enough to ask me to return your lands, and I value her enough to have thought on it. It is a great inconvenience of course. I shall have to find other lands for Lord Harris, though he was very keen on having yours.”

“Jonathan Harris? A bald man?”

“Yes, that’s him. Do you know him? I swear you’ve met every soul in London.”

Robert bared his teeth in a cold smile. “I expect that I have crossed his path during the wars.” A thrill of ice ran through his veins. The hunt was on! The man he chased now circled his home. Did the hunted think to become the hunter? Or was there some divine plan at work? Whatever happened, Harris must not be allowed to walk the halls of Cressly.

“Doubtless, you did. He fought for whichever side swung to his advantage. Royalist, Parliament, and then Royalist once more. I’m not terribly fond of him. Such men can’t be trusted. But there is a matter of politics involved. He is a useful man, much needed at the moment. You were an honest soldier, Captain, and a very good one. The general speaks highly of you. A commission for you, based on his recommendation, is something I’ve considered, but I’ve a problem you can help with and the solution I have in mind should aid us both. If you agree to it, you will keep your lands and I will add the adjacent ones which are currently vacant as well.”

“And how can I be of service to Your Majesty?”

“ Please, call me Charles.”

“What is it you want from me…Charles?”

“I want you to marry my mistress.”

Robert covered his shock by downing his drink. Had he heard the man correctly? “You want me to marry your mistress?”

“Yes. Hope Matthews. The one I brought you to meet this evening. She’s a charming little thing. I’m very fond of her. But I am to be married soon, Captain. The court already cavils at her presence. Her social status is such that—”

“She is the one they call the orange girl? The one who was born in a brothel?”

The king stiffened. “They may call her what they like. I assure you, she’s far more innocent and has a finer character than many of the ladies here at court.”

“I don’t understand, Your Majesty. Why would you ask such a thing of me?”

“As I said, I am to be married soon. My bride will be on English soil, three weeks hence. No doubt you’ve noticed the preparations. Hope is very dear to me but she is not of a fit social status to be accepted in the presence of my queen. If my court is to accept my will in this, it must be made palatable. A married mistress is far more acceptable than an unmarried one, and a titled lady far more acceptable than a street waif.”

“Can you not simply give her a title?”

“For her service to the crown?” The king chuckled heartily and poured them both another drink. “She has been a better friend to me than many who are more amply rewarded, but that I cannot do. Not without turning my court upside down and sending my wife in a fury back to Portugal. England needs this marriage.
I
can’t give her a title.” He pointed a long finger at Robert. “But
you
can. Appearances matter here, Captain. The play is the thing. She must marry a title and leave court for a while. Until after the wedding and matters are settled between my wife and my
maîtresse-en-titre
. Then she may returned as a married lady—”

“Matters between—”

Charles held up his hand. “It is nothing. A bagatelle. Matters that are no concern of yours. What
is
your concern is my proposition. You will marry her. Tonight. You will remove her from London tonight. You will keep your estates and those adjacent and I will give you a coronet to add to your coat of arms. You will be named Baron Nichols,
and
created Earl of Newport. Henceforth, Miss Mathews will be a lady. A countess, no less. And those who felt themselves too grand for her shall look to you and regret it. You will keep her well and safe, and when I summon her to court, you will parade her as a lady before them all.”

“So she won’t be my wife, but your mistress?”

“You will treat her as the lady she is.” There was a sudden frost in the Charles’ tone.

“And why have I been chosen for this singular honor?” Robert asked, ignoring it.

“Because Elizabeth assures me you are an honorable man who has shown her only kindness. I trust her judgment and assume you will do the same for Hope. And because no other
suitable
gentleman of my court will have her due to her lowly birth.
Your
great-grandfather had no title. He was a junior officer, barely a gentleman. Your grandfather was given a knighthood and your father made baronet for service to King James. You are a gentleman, but without noble roots so deep that you should fail to see the honor. I will, of course, provide her with a generous dowry as well. Such things never go amiss.” His eyes were calculating now, and slightly cold.

“And if I prefer General Monk’s offer?” He didn’t really know why he asked. The matter was decided the moment the king mentioned Harris’s name. Perhaps he resented the casual assumption that his honor was for sale. Even if it was true, he wasn’t inclined to make the thing easy for them.

“You will not be given that choice, Captain Nichols. General Monk had proven his loyalty to me. His service to myself and England are incalculable. You, on the other hand, could be a dangerous man. A disgruntled landless soldier prepared to give his allegiance to a military commander before his king. We’ve had our fill of those.
You
have never served me. You have proven nothing. Do so now, Captain. It is an opportunity that will not come again.”

“To be clear…you are asking me to be a knowing cuckold, an accomplice to your own adultery, in order to save my lands?”

“Exactly! Yes. And you shall be amply rewarded for it. Far more so than if you trotted off to God knows where with some ragtag band of mercenaries.”

The king smiled at Robert’s startled look. “Come now, Captain. Given the circumstances, it can hardly surprise you that I’ve taken a closer look at you and your connections. You are, by all accounts, an honorable man. It doesn’t please me to put you in this position but I can hardly entrust her to someone who is less than honorable, can I?”

His Majesty’s sudden smile was full of warmth and charm. “But what a poor host I am! Have some dinner. Enjoy the entertainment. Take some time to think. I must see to my lady. We will speak again later, yes? Think carefully though, Captain. Why sell your sword to make your way when I offer you this? It is always better to make new friends, wouldn’t you agree?” He gave Robert a kindly pat on the shoulder. “Besides...she really is a lovely girl. What have you got to lose?”

From dispossessed landowner to favored nobleman, mercenary captain to mercenary husband, and just possibly—from hunter to hunted—the king had set Robert’s world spinning like a master magician, with suggestion, distraction and sleight of hand. But two things were perfectly clear. His prey had resurfaced and was within his grasp, and the elfin beauty who had made him laugh, had in fact, been laughing at him.

Tired of over-warm bodies and cloying perfume Robert went in search of the garden. He passed the king and his hostess on the way. His Majesty, head bent, was listening intently as his lady whispered something in his ear. Those innocent eyes were sparkling, her laughter sweet as music. Wondering if they spoke of him he stepped outside.

The sounds of murmured conversation and distant laughter followed him. He settled on a bench beside a gently flowing fountain and leaned back against an arbor wall. He would never have imagined being summoned to court for this…honor. What did one call the paid cuckold to a king? Baron Nichols, Earl of Newport, he thought with mordent humor. Titles he was supposed to accept with pride.

Well...accept them he would. There was no other choice. Though he’d already come to terms with the loss of Cressly, he could never allow one of his sister’s murderers to walk its halls. Not even for the length of time it took to kill him. He must accept the woman…this marriage. It was a gift, though not in the way the king imagined.
Harris will be enraged. After all these years of searching,
he
will come to me and finally, justice will be served.

Justice would be served and he would have a new wife.
He was well aware of his future bride’s background. All of England followed the exploits and intrigues of their amorous king. It was said she was little better than a common prostitute, likely had been one before she became the mistress of rich and titled men. It wasn’t the pedigree one sought in a wife but he’d never put much credence in gossip and he’d seen too much of war and abandoned women to judge what a person did to survive. In truth, it was
his
role that rankled more than hers.

Cuckold, pimp, pander, blind man. This is the duty my king and his lady look for from me. Better men have refused them. Prouder men have said no. General Monk serves England as soldier and statesman. I will serve her as stage dressing, for my adulteress king and his mistress
. They had expected it of him. They had assumed he’d sell his honor and his pride for a coronet, some land, and a bag of gold, and they were only partly mistaken. He would never do it for riches—but he would to avenge Caroline. He thought back to the crisp midwinter night he’d kissed Kate Bishop. He’d had no idea that vengeance was about to swallow his life whole. He let out a long sigh.
Or bring me so low
.

The soft laughter he’d heard earlier had grown closer and wilder, interspersed now with shouts, clapping and cheers. He got up to investigate, walking down the hedgerow and through a small gap into the big garden backing on the park. The moon was new, barely a sliver, but the pitch-black sky glittered diamond-bright overhead. It was a beautiful night, the air soft and gentle, and the trees stirred softly in the breeze. The doors from the salon were opened and the celebration had moved outside. Acrobats and tumblers performed cartwheels and handsprings, conjurers did tricks with ropes and fire, and torches and candlelight illuminated the garden, bathing everything in it with a magical glow.