Chapter 182: I Cannot Do That
Here he stood, pining after a woman he had pushed away with his own hands. Before today, at least, she had not hated him.
She had said it herself. She could not hate him. There had been pain in her voice, anger too, but not hatred. She had sworn he would never have her again. In her fury, she had threatened to give freely to every other man what she would deny him, and though he knew those words had come from pain, they had still torn through him.
He could not blame his mother for the terror in Livia’s eyes when she looked at him. That belonged to him. "What am I to do?" Henry asked, though he did not know whether he spoke to Lionel or to himself. He could not make himself less king or perhaps he could.
The man she had once known. Maybe if he became Henry the merchant once more. Maybe then, she would remember who he used to be and he would remember too.
*****
The Queen Mother arrived in Covent Garden the following morning with a small retinue: a physician, two attendants, two guards, and her lady’s maid. Her carriage was plain by royal standards, though still fine enough to draw curious eyes. Theodora had chosen to come early enough. She had some things to discuss with the harlot, like getting rid of all the house staff.
What she had not expected was Tabitha. The woman stood at the entrance, back straight, chin lowered in perfect deference. Time had touched her. There were faint lines at the corners of her eyes now, and a restraint about her face that had not been there years ago. Still, Theodora knew her at once.
The past moved through her with such force that she nearly forgot herself. Tabitha had once been close enough to know things, close enough to witness what others only suspected.
And now she was here at Diana’s door. Theodora’s eyes widened before she could prevent it. Her heart gave a hard, sharp kick.
Theodora recovered quickly as she descended from the carriage, accepting the hand of one maid.
Tabitha curtsied low. "Your grace."
"What are you doing here?" Theodora asked.
Tabitha rose from her curtsy, careful not to meet her eyes for too long. "I am Miss Valenti’s lady’s maid."
Theodora simply stared at her. Tabitha had vanished from court years ago. She should have been pensioned away. She should not have resurfaced in the service of a woman tangled too closely with the palace. Theodora lifted one brow. "Excuse me?"
"Oh," Tabitha said, catching the question in Theodora’s gaze. "She has chosen to return to her true name. She says Diana Bellamy was an identity created for her by the Duke of Kingsmere, and she will not allow it to be further stained."
Theodora’s mouth tightened. The explanation irritated her because of the will behind it. Miss Valenti—Diana—whatever she now wished to call herself, had clearly found the strength to draw boundaries. Women like her should be easier to manage.
Still, Theodora’s quarrel was not with Tabitha. The girl inside could be pressured. A woman with no family protection, no title, and no true place in respectable society could not afford to be stubborn for long. Theodora had seen stronger women fold beneath far less.
"Step aside," she said.
Tabitha did not move. Theodora’s attendants seemed to still behind her.
"Your Grace," she said carefully, "I cannot do that."
Had any other servant dared to refuse her so plainly, Theodora would have ensured the woman regretted it before sunset. There were many ways to erase a person.
Tabitha was not any other servant. She was a ghost from a Chapter that should have stayed closed. Tabitha knew too much. She had seen too much. More importantly, she had once survived a situation from which most women would not have emerged at all.
For now, caution was wiser. But only for now.
"Tabitha," Theodora said, "I am not in the mood for this."
Tabitha lowered her gaze, but she did not retreat. "I understand, Your Grace. My lady does not wish to receive you...She is greatly distressed, and she believes your presence will only worsen her condition, Your Grace."
"Your lady has a great deal of gall," Theodora said. "Or did you lend it to her?"
"I did not have to do anything of the sort," she replied. "Miss Valenti is quite capable of deciding what she wants for herself."
"I have not come here to exchange sentiments with you," Theodora said. "I have brought a physician to examine her and ensure she is free of disease before she attends His Highness tonight."
Tabitha’s gaze flickered toward the physician waiting behind the Queen Mother. "The physician may be admitted," Tabitha said at last. "Along with his assistants, if their presence is necessary."
Theodora’s brows lifted.
"But you may not," Tabitha continued.
One of the guards took a step forward, but Theodora raised a hand without looking at him. He stopped immediately.
"Miss Valenti has the right to refuse entry to anyone she chooses, save by order of the King or Queen. You, Your Grace, are merely Queen Dowager. Unless you carry the King’s written command or his seal authorising this visit, she is not obliged to receive you."
Theodora saw the glimmer of a smile so faint it might have been imagined. "I know our laws, Tabitha. You don’t have to teach them to me."
"I would never—" Tabitha began.
Theodora cut her off with a faint lift of her hand. "Spare me the performance."
Tabitha fell silent at once.
"Quite interesting, Tabitha," Theodora said, her tone deceptively idle, "that you would return to service as a lady’s maid. I was under the impression you had retired comfortably after the death of your mistress."
Tabitha inclined her head. "The Lord Chancellor and His Grace, the Duke of Kingsmere, asked for me personally."
Of course. Richard’s hand was in this too. He had clearly not gotten the message that the king owned the girl now.
"I have never had the heart to refuse the boy," Tabitha added quietly.
Theodora allowed a thin smile to touch her lips. "How touching."
Tabitha lowered her gaze again, but Theodora no longer mistook it for submission. There was too much calculation beneath the humility.
Very well.
If Tabitha wished to play protector, she would soon learn her limits.
"Have your lady ready by this evening," Theodora said. "That is, provided the physician finds her free of disease and any inconvenient pregnancy. We would not want the King of England exposed to infection, or some nameless child being thrust upon him as his own."
The words were cruel by design.
"She shall be brought to the palace and prepared for the King," she continued. "Let us see how she intends to escape me then."
With that, Theodora turned back toward the carriage. She gestured over her shoulder, granting the physician and his assistants permission to enter.
Tabitha stepped aside. Only then did the physician and his assistants enter, their bags clutched in gloved hands. The moment the last of them crossed the threshold, Tabitha shut the door firmly behind them.
Then she bolted it. It was done out of prudence. If Her Grace suddenly forgot the boundaries of civility and decided to enter without invitation, she would find Tabitha’s will standing in her way.
For now, that would have to be enough.
Livia was in the drawing room. She had been there since the first rattle of carriage wheels reached the house, sitting too straight upon the edge of the settee, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
When the physician entered with two assistants behind him, her eyes widened. Tabitha moved to her at once.
"It is all right, my lady," she said softly, placing herself near enough to be a shield. "They are merely here to ensure your health and to determine whether there is any sign of pregnancy."
Livia’s face changed—the slight parting of her lips, the quick lift of her gaze to Tabitha’s face. Then came the hope.
Pregnancy.
If she carried a child, perhaps everything would stop. Perhaps the palace would no longer be able to drag her wherever it pleased. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to be offered to the king.
Perhaps there would be mercy.
Tabitha saw every fragile piece of that hope and hated that she could not protect it. She gave Livia a small smile. But in her heart, she doubted it. Livia’s courses had ended around the time Tabitha had been at Kingsmere.
There was no fear of pregnancy. Tabitha did not have the heart to extinguish the small hope flickering in Livia’s eyes.
She understood that Livia reached for it because every other door had been closed against her. Tabitha smiled.
If she could not offer certainty, she could at least offer softness. The girl had known too little of that.
The Duke of Kingsmere had given Tabitha a brief account of all that had happened over the past few months. But Livia had filled in what he had left unsaid.
