Read Online Eternally Bound (Thistles & Roses) by Eliza Knight - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eliza Knight
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but that didn’t mean she didn’t still have questions. Max inclined her head delicately in submission. When her gaze caught on Lord Bedford’s, she saw the interest sparking in his eyes. He wanted to know her questions, but he’d already cut in with her father once since they’d been in the garden and a gentleman wouldn’t do so again.
Max bit the inside of her cheek. Why did this man bring her the offer from the queen? What did he have to gain from it?
A mere woman she might be, but Max was not an imbecile. She could smell a plot cooking. And, oddly, there had not been a proposal either. Or did he still wait to say so?
“There is another topic I’d like to discuss with you, Baron, and this, Lady Maxwell, I beg your pardon, must be said in private.”
The nerve of him! Was this when they’d arrange for her to be married to the leech?
“Good day,” she said through tight lips.
There was one thing she was certain of—Lord Bedford could not be trusted. And if she were honest, neither could her heart.
Chapter Seven
MAX was not betrothed. But she was now an official maid of honor in the queen’s court.
Just before her father had bid her farewell the night before, he’d put her out of her misery by indulging her that bit of information. The man had not even asked for her hand. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or not.
Of course, her father had no way of knowing that Lord Bedford and she had discussed marriage in his study. For that, she was glad. Her father would likely consider using a whip on her if he had been privy to that bit of nonsense.
All the same, this morning when Mistress Hyde had roused the ladies for chapel, Max had prayed extra hard for forgiveness. Forgiveness for her behavior. Forgiveness for imagining what it would be like for Lord Bedford to kiss her. Forgiveness for the curses she sent his way when he didn’t ask for her hand after he had hinted he would. Forgiveness for being vain enough to think he might want to be married to her. The list was endless, and if she’d had the nerve to confess, she would have had a lengthy penance. As it was, she had to add this sin—her fear of confession—to her list as well.
So far, the queen had been kind to her, even asked Max to read a passage from her prayer book and praised her for her gentle voice. The day had gone by much quicker than she’d expected, and just after luncheon, all of the ladies, the queen included, had gone to rest before preparing for the banquet.
Inside the queen’s Privy Chamber, the noise level was quickly giving Max a headache. The ladies fawned over each other and squealed as ribbons and bits of silk and lace floated on the air. From an outside perspective—for she’d not truly become one of them yet—it was magical, ethereal and… well… silly.
These ladies loved serving the queen—not the actual serving of her, but the idea of it and the admiration at court that being an attendant of the queen brought them as well as all the glamor that came with it. Max supposed she should have been excited, but the idea of being tucked into the corset and having her gown pinned to her again left her belly with a decidedly sour feeling. And while she enjoyed being able to spend time with the queen and her ladies, the rules were rather stifling.
“Smile, Lady Maxwell,” laughed Mary Talbot. “’Twill not break your face.”
Max smiled faintly, not feeling the joy such a gesture should normally bring. Mary seemed nice, if not a bit pushy. Max shared a room with Mary and her sister, Elizabeth, and so she had to make the best of it.
“Are you nervous?” Elizabeth asked.
“Not especially,” Max answered, though the true answer was a resounding yes .
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Mary shrugged, then checked that the move hadn’t messed up her curls. “All you have to do is dance and flirt and bring Her Majesty a sweet treat now and then.”
“I can do that,” Max said, her smile
Max bit the inside of her cheek. Why did this man bring her the offer from the queen? What did he have to gain from it?
A mere woman she might be, but Max was not an imbecile. She could smell a plot cooking. And, oddly, there had not been a proposal either. Or did he still wait to say so?
“There is another topic I’d like to discuss with you, Baron, and this, Lady Maxwell, I beg your pardon, must be said in private.”
The nerve of him! Was this when they’d arrange for her to be married to the leech?
“Good day,” she said through tight lips.
There was one thing she was certain of—Lord Bedford could not be trusted. And if she were honest, neither could her heart.
Chapter Seven
MAX was not betrothed. But she was now an official maid of honor in the queen’s court.
Just before her father had bid her farewell the night before, he’d put her out of her misery by indulging her that bit of information. The man had not even asked for her hand. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or not.
Of course, her father had no way of knowing that Lord Bedford and she had discussed marriage in his study. For that, she was glad. Her father would likely consider using a whip on her if he had been privy to that bit of nonsense.
All the same, this morning when Mistress Hyde had roused the ladies for chapel, Max had prayed extra hard for forgiveness. Forgiveness for her behavior. Forgiveness for imagining what it would be like for Lord Bedford to kiss her. Forgiveness for the curses she sent his way when he didn’t ask for her hand after he had hinted he would. Forgiveness for being vain enough to think he might want to be married to her. The list was endless, and if she’d had the nerve to confess, she would have had a lengthy penance. As it was, she had to add this sin—her fear of confession—to her list as well.
So far, the queen had been kind to her, even asked Max to read a passage from her prayer book and praised her for her gentle voice. The day had gone by much quicker than she’d expected, and just after luncheon, all of the ladies, the queen included, had gone to rest before preparing for the banquet.
Inside the queen’s Privy Chamber, the noise level was quickly giving Max a headache. The ladies fawned over each other and squealed as ribbons and bits of silk and lace floated on the air. From an outside perspective—for she’d not truly become one of them yet—it was magical, ethereal and… well… silly.
These ladies loved serving the queen—not the actual serving of her, but the idea of it and the admiration at court that being an attendant of the queen brought them as well as all the glamor that came with it. Max supposed she should have been excited, but the idea of being tucked into the corset and having her gown pinned to her again left her belly with a decidedly sour feeling. And while she enjoyed being able to spend time with the queen and her ladies, the rules were rather stifling.
“Smile, Lady Maxwell,” laughed Mary Talbot. “’Twill not break your face.”
Max smiled faintly, not feeling the joy such a gesture should normally bring. Mary seemed nice, if not a bit pushy. Max shared a room with Mary and her sister, Elizabeth, and so she had to make the best of it.
“Are you nervous?” Elizabeth asked.
“Not especially,” Max answered, though the true answer was a resounding yes .
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Mary shrugged, then checked that the move hadn’t messed up her curls. “All you have to do is dance and flirt and bring Her Majesty a sweet treat now and then.”
“I can do that,” Max said, her smile
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