Chapter 181: I Will Offer My Apologies
That was all that mattered to her.
Diana had walked into Whitehall as Bella’s guest. If she had left wounded, then Bella wanted only the truth of that wound.
Henry swallowed. "Yes...She is."
"I shall go to Kingsmere tomorrow, then," she said. "I will offer my apologies."
"There is no need—"
"There is every need." Her voice sharpened. "I brought her here. I invited her. I brought this on her, Your Highness."
Henry looked at her. Bella was trying to pick up his guilt and carry it. A girl who had already lost one life and refused to lose another.
"No," he said. "You did not."
She looked unconvinced. Henry’s gaze drifted back toward the dark palace below.
"I do not believe she will still be in Kingsmere by tomorrow," Henry said.
"I have been so selfish," Bella whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. "I was so blinded," she continued, voice tight, "so convinced that I knew what was best, that I made life difficult for her. I used her to feed my own hope." Bella turned to him then, her eyes still wet.
"I did not factor in Her Grace. I did not think of what she would do if she knew. I should have. I should have left it all alone."
Henry exhaled slowly. "Leave some blame for me too, Bella. What if I promise you that I will make up for this setback?"
Whatever had happened to Diana was more than a setback. Bella did not know the details, and perhaps she feared them, but she knew enough. Theodora’s cruelty was not legendary for sport.
"Of course," she said. "But she has to know I would never deliberately hurt her. I would never. She must think I set her up with Her Grace." The thought seemed to tear at her afresh. "She came because I wrote to her. She trusted me. I asked her to come, and then her grace took her from me."
"I am sure she will forgive you."
"Your Highness..." Stephen stepped closer from the doorway, careful not to startle either of them. "Lord Ashcroft is back. He is right by the door."
Henry nodded and turned back to Bella. "Come on...Get some sleep."
Bella curtsied. She turned and walked back the way she had come. She felt a little better since her confrontation with the Queen Mother.
Lionel approached and bowed. "Your Majesty...Miss Bellamy has been settled in Covent Garden."
Henry did not turn at once. He stood near the balcony rail, his robe shifting in the night wind, his face turned toward the dark reach of London beyond Whitehall. Somewhere within that maze of streets, Livia was. "How is she?" Henry asked.
Lionel hesitated.
"Speak plainly."
"Gutted, Your Majesty. Determined. Angry."
Henry closed his eyes. "Yes. Of course. I would not expect anything less," Henry murmured. "Is everything comfortable enough?"
"Uh..." Lionel cleared his throat. "Yes, Your Majesty. Well furnished. There were kitchen staff, two maids, and guards posted outside as instructed by her grace."
"were?" he asked.
Lionel shifted his weight. "As soon as she arrived, she ordered every maid and guard to leave the house."
Henry turned then.
Lionel quickly continued, "The guards remained outside, of course. I did not withdraw them from the street. But she refused any attendants inside. She said she did not need anyone except Mrs Crowe."
"Mrs Crowe?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. She is Miss Bellamy’s lady’s maid. She left Kingsmere with her."
Mrs Crowe.
He remembered the name. She had once served Richard’s mother. A trusted woman. He had wanted to believe the severing had begun the moment Livia left Kingsmere. That if she slept beneath another roof, under another arrangement, the Duke of Kingsmere would become less real.
But Mrs Crowe’s presence changed that. It meant Richard had not let her go yet. It meant Livia had accepted some part of him beside her.
Henry’s hand tightened on the balcony rail. He could order Mrs Crowe removed but he knew better than to strip another comfort from Livia simply because it belonged partly to Richard. He had taken enough. "It is all right," Henry said at last. "I will handle it."
Lionel bowed his head.
"We should visit the city tomorrow evening," Henry added. "It has been a while since I walked among my people."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Lionel replied.
Stephen looked uneasy. A king who had only just been restrained in his own chamber had no business wandering London.
"Shall I escort you back to your chambers, sire?" Lionel asked.
"Give me a minute, Lionel."
"Yes, sire."
Henry stood in silence for several breaths. Then he said, "You think I am being extreme, do you not?"
Lionel did not answer.
Henry turned slightly. "You may speak your mind, Lionel."
Whatever Lionel wished to say, he weighed it first.
"Well," Lionel began carefully, "Lady Diana was headed for a good life. A respectable one," Lionel continued. "The duke intended to marry her. He would have made her Duchess of Kingsmere. She would have had a household, a name, protection, position. Whatever her past may have been, she had a future before her. All she is now is a mistress. She is not even a royal mistress in any recognised sense. She is simply kept."
"She is right back where she started. I would say the one who is suffering the most right now is Lady Diana."
"A respectable life," Henry murmured.
Respectable. Protected by marriage, name, rank, and law. All the things Livia had been reaching toward.
Was that what it would take to fix what he had done? Respectability. A life she could stand inside without lowering her eyes. A life no one could spit upon without answering for it.
But was such a thing even possible now? He was to marry the French princess in two weeks. A treaty had been built around that marriage. England and France, joined in peace by vows spoken before God. The royal family of France was currently on the seas for it. He was to walk into the chapel, take Princess Madeleine’s hand, and become the king history demanded.
