Chapter 187: I Cannot Breathe Without You
A faint, helpless smile touched her mouth. Richard would have looked at her with that wicked brightness in his eyes, said something entirely improper. He would have praised the dress, then ruined it while removing it.
It would not have lasted long on her body. Her smile trembled. It had been only a day since she had last seen him, and yet she missed him with a violence that frightened her. She missed his laughter, his teasing. She missed the boyish duke beneath the title.
Seated there, arranged for a king, her body yearned for a duke. She remembered their quarrels. His inappropriate jests.
And tonight, another man would be taking her in a way she had only promised to Richard.
The King’s arrival was announced. Livia rose reluctantly, smoothing her hands over the front of the gown.
She felt hollow.
The door opened and she sank into a curtsy, keeping her head lowered as Henry entered. She did not look at him. She fixed her gaze on the floor and held herself still.
Henry stopped a few paces inside the chamber. For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes moved over her. The gown suited her. Whoever had chosen it had understood exactly what they wanted him to see. The exposed curve of her throat. The dangerous line of the bodice. The soft fall of fabric against her waist and hips. She had been prepared carefully, beautifully.
But not truly. She stood before him as though she had been arranged for a ceremony she had no wish to attend. Her body was present. But the woman herself was far away from him.
He removed his riding gloves slowly, buying himself a moment. He wore the plain garments of his merchant disguise once more, the same sort he had worn with Lionel when they slipped into the city to walk among the people without being recognised.
He had not done that since Thomas’s death but today he had gone back. He had walked the alleys and market lanes, and stood in the narrow place where he had first seen her. He had remembered the first time she had looked at him, with suspicion in her eyes and fire behind it. He stepped closer.
"I suppose I should apologise for my conduct yesterday," he began. "I did not mean to hurt you."
"Of course, Your Majesty," she said, still not looking at him.
"Would you look at me, please?" Henry asked.
Livia lifted her head. For one moment, she did not see the King of England. She did not see the man whose power could cage her, she saw Henry the merchant.
He looked ordinary in those clothes. "I realise you do not wish to be here...And I will not keep you."
Livia held her tongue. What did he expect from her? Gratitude? Was she meant to thank him because he had decided, for one evening, not to take her? Was mercy still mercy when it came from the same hand that held the chain? She said nothing.
He stepped closer. Then he lifted his hand to her face. His thumb brushed her cheek, light as memory. Once, she might have leaned into it. "You will get used to me again someday, Livia," he murmured. "A part of you remembers me. What you see now," he continued, "this version of me you seem to hate, is only a man who has lost too much and cannot bear to lose you too."
Henry’s hand remained against her cheek. "I am not proud of what I have done. I know I have frightened you. I know I have made myself into something cruel in your eyes. But I tried to live without you. Believe me, I tried. I cannot breathe without you."
Livia still chose to say nothing. Henry stepped back first. It cost him more than he allowed his face to show. His hand fell from her cheek slowly.
"Lady Bella has been greatly concerned for you," he said. "You may spend the night with her, if that is your wish."
Livia lowered herself into another curtsy. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Do you have everything you require?" he asked. "Are you comfortable?"
"Of course."
Henry inclined his head. He moved aside, granting her a clear path to the door. Livia began to walk away. He watched her go, every step taking something from the room with her. The gown swayed around her body. "Livia."
She stopped. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
Henry swallowed. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Livia looked up at him then. At last, she held his gaze fully. There was no hesitation in her eyes, no trembling uncertainty he could mistake for hope. "Never."
Henry nodded once, accepting the blow because there was nothing else to do. "I understand. Good night."
She turned and left. The door closed behind her, and Henry missed her instantly. It would take time.
Patience.
Work.
But he would earn back her trust. Her care. The woman he had once held before Richard Kingsmere had come between them.
Everything Richard had stolen from him was going to be his once again.
*****
When Bella saw Livia, the poor girl looked as though the breath had been stolen from her lungs. She stood in the middle of her chamber in a plain evening gown, her hands clasped tightly. Her eyes moved everywhere except to Livia’s face.
Livia understood at once. Guilt had made a prisoner of Bella. Livia could not bear it. She smiled softly and crossed the room. Livia reached for her. Bella believed she had no right to be comforted by the very woman she thought she had wronged. Livia pulled her into her arms.
That was when Bella broke. A sob tore out of her, and then she was clinging to Livia. Livia tightened her embrace, one hand smoothing gently over Bella’s back while the girl wept against her shoulder.
"I’m so sorry," Bella cried. "I’m so sorry, Diana. If I had known any of this would happen, I would have stayed away from you. I swear it. I would never have let you near me. I’m so very sorry."
(Brought to you by Mar King 3/3)
