Chapter 254: You Began It
Her mouth fell open. "Is everyone around me intent on behaving like children today?" Livia demanded.
Henry’s smirk was shameless. "You began it."
"I did not mean it like that."
"I know. I took the chance. Come," Henry said, laughter still in his voice. "Give him a proper name."
Livia looked back at the gelding. His soft nose brushed her sleeve, impatient with human foolishness. She placed both hands gently along his face and leaned her forehead against him. She closed her eyes and the word came from someplace old inside her. "Libertà," she whispered.
"Fitting," he said quietly. "Very fitting."
Livia kept her forehead against the horse a moment longer, breathing him in. When she finally turned back, Henry was watching her with the same look he had worn on the river, as though her happiness both healed and wounded him.
"I had something else I wanted to ask you," he said.
"What?"
"I leave for France by morning," Henry said. "Would you stay with me tonight?"
"Your Majesty, should you not be resting?" Livia asked.
"I do intend to rest," he said. "With you beside me. Unless you intend to keep me busy beneath the sheets."
Livia’s eyes narrowed. "I thought you promised to keep your breeches on."
"I did." His smile turned wicked. "Until we are married. But in the meantime," he added, lowering his voice as his hand found her waist, "you are welcome to play with the tool inside the breeches."
Livia shut her eyes and her face warmed instantly. "Henry."
"That blush. I shall miss it in France. Or I could pull you into the stable and prove how much I shall miss you."
Livia laughed. "That will not be necessary. I shall be there tonight. And I shall make certain you rest. You need a great deal of sleep before morning."
Henry drew her closer so that they were merged together. "Remember our wager?" he asked.
"Yes."
"And?"
"You are going to lose."
Henry stroked her hair slowly. "We shall see, love. We shall surely see."
*****
That night, Livia allowed Tabitha to outdo herself. The night rail was deep wine-red silk, so dark it seemed almost black until candlelight moved across it. Fine lace edged the neckline and shaped the bust with indecent care, and narrow ribbons tied over the shoulders. The sides were cut with long openings that fell from the upper thigh, revealing flashes of skin.
Livia stared at herself in the looking glass. "Tabitha."
"Yes, my lady?"
"What exactly is this?"
"I am sure the king will tell you what it is."
Livia turned to glare at her. Tabitha’s face remained perfectly serious. She moved away and took up a heavy cloak, dark and plain enough to swallow every dangerous inch of silk beneath it. She draped it around Livia’s shoulders, fastened it at the throat, and stepped back to inspect the effect.
"There," she said. "Respectable enough for corridors."
"And once I remove it?"
"Then His Majesty’s heart may stop beating."
"Tabitha."
Tabitha adjusted the cloak one final time, then paused. Her hands remained at Livia’s shoulders. "I overheard you tell Lady Bella you have not lain with the king yet. Is that true?"
"Yes."
"Has he asked you to be his queen?" Tabitha asked.
"Yes," Livia said. "And I remember what you told me. But I cannot," Livia continued, her voice softer now. "I do not have the strength to go to battle in Whitehall."
Tabitha looked at her in the mirror. The maroon silk beneath the cloak was hidden now, swallowed by plain wool.
"I am not Bella," Livia said. "I am not Madeleine. I am not trained for this."
"No woman is trained for the part she is forced to play," Tabitha replied. "She either learns, or she is eaten." The older woman sighed at last. "Very well, then. If you will not be queen, at least try not to be prey. Walk as though Whitehall belongs to you."
They left the apartments together. Livia walked beside Tabitha in silence until, halfway down the passage, she stopped.
"My lady?" Tabitha asked.
Livia stared ahead, though she was no longer seeing the corridor. Her thoughts had begun arranging themselves.
Henry feared Richard because he feared her gratitude. He feared that some part of her remained tied to the duke. Perhaps no speech would ease that fear. Perhaps no denial would satisfy a man as wounded and possessive as Henry.
But perhaps certainty could. If Henry truly believed he held her desire, then Richard might return to England without standing between them.
She turned to Tabitha. "Do you think the dress is enough?"
Slowly, knowingly, Tabitha smiled. "My lady, if that dress does not have the king on his knees at your feet, then I am not Tabitha Crowe."
A laugh escaped Livia. She nodded once and began walking again. Very well. It was time to test the power Tabitha claimed she held over the king.
When they reached the king’s privy lodging, Tabitha stopped before the outer corridor.
"I go no farther," she said.
Livia looked at the guarded doorway ahead and nodded.
"Good night, my lady." Tabitha retreated, leaving Livia alone beneath the eyes of the guards.
The men did nothing to stop her. The guards bowed as she approached, as though her presence had already been accounted for. As though she belonged here.
To avoid seeming too forward, Livia stopped. "His Majesty is expecting me."
The guards bowed again, and one gestured towards the inner door. "Yes, my lady."
Livia felt an entirely inappropriate flicker of satisfaction.
Look at you, she thought, stepping towards the door. Strolling into the private chambers of the King of England like a woman with a right to be there. You have come a long way, Livia Valenti.
She entered.
The chamber was dimmer, lit only by a few remaining candles and the low glow of the hearth. The air held the scent of the faint spice of Henry’s soap. Stephen stood near the table, snuffing candles one by one.