Reunited At The King's Court. Helen Dickson

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      ‘I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a disadvantage. I’m not normally so dishevelled.’

      He glanced down at his own clothes, travel-stained and creased from being so long on the road. ‘And neither am I. Having been on the road since early morning, I am somewhat discomposed myself.’

      ‘Is this the first time you have been back to England since you went to France?’

      ‘It is. Nine long years—it seems like a lifetime. I wasn’t alone. It wasn’t what any of us would have chosen—we had no choice.’

      ‘And what did you do for nine years, William? Did you spend all your time in Paris, enjoying all the gaieties that city has to offer?’

      He laughed. ‘No, far from it. When I arrived there it didn’t take long before boredom set in. Along with many others who were not prepared to see out their exile in idleness, I went to the Low Countries with the King, who founded a regiment of guards under the command of his brother, the Duke of York. We went into service under the Spanish flag.’

      ‘So your fighting did not cease when you left England,’ she said, curious to know more about those missing years in William’s life and wondering what he had got up to when he left for France. She had the feeling that the adventure he had embarked upon was not all he hoped it would be.

      ‘No. The regiment saw much service and too many deaths. Too many. It’s not always easy to be a soldier and a survivor. I may still be alive, but I have lost all that is important to me. My mother passed away and my sister married a Frenchman.’

      ‘I’m so sorry, William. That must have been difficult for you.’

      He nodded, his expression sombre. ‘It’s a hollow victory over death—but I am grateful to be alive. I’m home now—one of the lucky ones.’

      He fell silent, seeming to lose himself in his thoughts.

      ‘William?’ She touched his arm. It was the merest touch, but she might as well have branded him with a hot iron.

      He forced himself back to the present and turned his gaze on her. ‘Like every other Royalist who has been plotting towards this end, there are many things that need to be done. I’m tired of wandering. My years of fighting and adventure are over, but I never had any doubt in my mind about the justice of the King’s cause. It is time to stop dwelling in the past and concentrate on the present and the future. From this day I intend to live out the rest of my life in England and never again pick up my sword in anger.’

      ‘You will find much has changed.’

      ‘I don’t doubt it—although things could not have turned out better. It is fortunate that the King has come back to where he belongs. Are you enjoying the celebrations?’

      ‘Yes. We are staying with Richard’s sister overnight.’

      ‘And Hester? She is well?’

      ‘Yes, she is. Speaking of Hester, I should be getting back. She will miss me and scold me most severely because I left the house.’

      ‘Of course. Come, I’ll escort you.’

      Curling his right arm around her shoulders, he casually guided her towards the house. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.

      ‘I shall be in London for a while, Arlette. I’ll call on you later and I would like to pay my respects to Hester and her husband. I did not meet Richard when I brought you, which is probably as well. As a malignant he might very well have had me arrested.’

      ‘I’d like to think not. You did my father a great service and I know Hester was most grateful.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Goodbye, William. If you are able, you would be welcome at the celebrations later.’

      Standing in the doorway for one last glimpse of him, she noted that he moved with a casual grace and an air of authority that she had not encountered in anyone before. Deliriously happy, she almost skipped into the house.

       Chapter Two

      Taking his leave of her and mounted once more, William forced his way back into the parade. He was troubled. Thinking of Arlette, the young girl he had kept in his heart for so many years, he could not help but wonder why it was that she so easily aroused his desire, for when he had looked at her he had been instantly drawn to her.

      In one quick glance he had seen the change nine years had made. She had a fine bone structure and a few freckles sprinkled her nose. He had seen classic beauty rather than sex appeal and there was a slight dimple in her chin below the curve of her rose-tinted lips. Her eyes were the colour of a tropical sea, he thought—blue-green speckled with amber. Had she been any other wench who had thrown him a rose and then come after him, he would have been tempted to draw her into his arms and kiss the full, soft mouth. But she wasn’t any other wench. She was Arlette, no longer the girl he remembered, but a full-grown, beautiful woman.

      It was dark when William was able to get away from Whitehall and find his way to the Willoughby house. Revellers were everywhere, spilling out of the taverns into the street, some of them collapsing in a happy, abandoned heap.

      From his vantage point on the raised terrace in the courtyard at the back of Willoughby House, William idly watched the celebrations without consciously admitting to himself that he was watching specifically for Arlette to appear—and then, as if he was seeing a dream, there she was. Attired in the same yellow gown as earlier that clung to her small breasts and miniscule waist and complemented her complexion, her stance was one of quiet regal poise. Her wealth of glorious bright gold hair, gently curling, was drawn off her face and hung down her back. Everyone paused in their conversations and glanced her way. Her smile was dazzling and she seemed to bestow it on every one of those present—and did he imagine it, or did everyone resume talking with more animation than before?

      His whole sum and substance was concentrated on her. She had an individuality that had nothing to do with her beauty. It took William’s breath away. With her creamy white complexion she was utterly feminine. She moved with a fluency and elegance that drew the eye. There was an intriguing, indefinable presence about her that made her stand out, even in the moving kaleidoscope of colour and animated voices. It was as if everyone and everything was in motion except Arlette. But he detected a restlessness about her. She looked about her with a keen interest, her glance filled with anticipation and bright expectance.

      And then, as if she sensed his gaze on her, her head came up and she saw him and smiled the widest smile that warmed and lit up her features. Holding her gaze, he headed slowly but purposefully towards her.

      ‘William! I am most surprised to see you here.’

      ‘Do you mind?’

      ‘Oh, no. I’m glad you came. The whole of London is celebrating tonight. But come with me. I know Hester will be most happy to see you. I told her I had seen you in the parade—I did not tell her I had spoken to you—but I told her you recognised me and waved, which will explain your СКАЧАТЬ