Free Cicely's King Richard (Cicely Plantagenet Trilogy) by Sandra Heath Wilson

against the wall in a less than regal slouch. His grey glance moved over her again, sweeping from her bare feet to her hair and then to her earnest face. ‘To attempt sweet reason with your lady mother—if such be indeed possible.’
    The sarcasm was not lost upon Cicely. ‘She hates and fears you, so perhaps you waste your time.’
    He gave a dry laugh. ‘Your mother has good reason to fear me, given her most recent treachery. But Cicely, if I wanted to do away with you all, and if I am a godforsaken monster, do you honestly believe I would not have flouted sanctuary before now and had it all over and done with? Your father did that after Tewkesbury, so there is a precedent. Then I could be at ease to enjoy my next platter of spitted child.’
    ‘Do not say things like that.’
    ‘Forgive me, I only meant to tease.’ He put his fingertips to her cheek.
    He was tactile, approachable. Disarming. She gazed at him as he lounged against the wall, his jewels flashing in the moving light.
    His voice became more serious and authoritative. ‘I wish to speak with your mother. Please tell her I am here and will speak to her now, not at her convenience.’
    Cicely was aghast. ‘Tell my mother that ?’
    He straightened. ‘Yes, now. I trust there is a warmer place than this landing?’
    She indicated the arched doorway near where they stood. Inside was the large room where they all sat together during the day, and the fire was struggling to survive. She left the King of England bending to put another log on the feeble embers and then press it down with his heel.
    But as she hurried to arouse her mother’s ladies, she found Bess next to the clothes he had left on the floor. ‘He is here, Cissy?’ Bess’s voice shook with the force of emotion that coursed through her just because he was only a few yards away.
    ‘Hush, Bess, for he may hear! You cannot go . . . well, you know.’
    ‘No, I do not. What do you mean, Cissy? Do you think I am about to rush to him and rape him with my eyes and words? Maybe I will even fling myself carnally upon him in front of you?’
    Cicely drew back. ‘Do not say that, Bess. I do understand your feelings, truly I do. Perhaps now more than ever before.’
    Bess’s eyes softened. ‘He is everything I say, is he not?’
    Cicely nodded, for it was true.
    ‘I must see him, Cissy.’
    ‘If you do, you had better know that he has sent me to bring Mother to him. Given the way she feels about him now, do you honestly believe she will hold her tongue out of respect for you? Bess, she will accuse him of all manner of vice, all manner of disgusting intentions towards you, and in so doing she will ensure that he looks upon you with aversion. Is that what you want?’
    Bess hesitated, torn, and then gave a reluctant sigh. ‘I hate you when you are so logical, Cicely Plantagenet. Now you have been alone with him, whereas I, who love him so very much, must stay away.’
    Leaving Bess where she was, Cicely hurried on to her mother’s apartments. There was soon a great deal of panic and commotion as Elizabeth’s ladies rushed from their beds to prepare their mistress. Bess had gone when Cicely returned to the king. He was forcing a second log on the fire, and was unaware of her presence until she closed the door. He whipped around warily, but then saw who it was. ‘Cicely! Dear God above, I thought—well, it does not matter what I thought. Never be a monarch with enemies, for it is a truly unhappy state.’
    ‘Is there ever a monarch without enemies, Your Grace?’ she asked, going to his side.
    ‘Uncle. I am your uncle, Cicely, not some unreachable figure upon a throne. And you are right, there will probably never be a king free of enemies.’
    ‘I—I have awakened my mother’s ladies.’
    He nodded. ‘I know. I appear to be a true fox among the hens.’ As she laughed, he smiled too. ‘I am glad you are now at ease with me.’
    ‘You remind me of happier days, when my father . . .’ Her