His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Richard stood before the king and felt like a thief. "I should let you get to court," he said, rising from the chair. "You look almost sober enough to attend."

Henry’s eyes remained fixed on him.

Richard bowed slightly. "I will get some rest and see my father before I head back to Kingsmere. I rode through the night. My bones are exhausted."

Henry gave a small smile and a nod. "Sure. Thank you for stopping by. I appreciate it."

"Of course, my lord." Richard bowed and exited the room.

Henry remained still. Only for a minute. Then his gaze shifted toward the door. Richard’s reaction had been wrong.

A stiffness when Beaumont’s was mentioned. A pale look when Henry spoke of the fall.

Henry’s mind began reassessing every expression. He quickly walked over to the head of his bed and yanked hard on the bell rope.

The sound rang somewhere beyond the walls. Richard knew something. He knew it. Stephen appeared almost instantly. He had barely pushed the door open before Henry thundered, "Fetch me Lionel. Now!" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"Yes, Your Highness."

The door shut again, and Henry began pacing. It had been there. In Richard’s face. That slight paling. That discomfort. Richard could lie with a smile better than most men, but Henry knew him. He knew the shape of his lies. They had been boys together.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Lionel walked in, evidently just waking from sleep. His hair was tied back hastily, his coat not fully fastened.

"Your Highness," Lionel said, bowing quickly. "You called."

"Richard knows something."

Lionel blinked. "I don’t follow."

Henry stopped pacing and turned on him. "Keep up, Lionel. Richard knows Livia, and I think he knows where she is."

"Your Highness, I... I..."

"I know you think I have lost my mind but are too loyal to say so."

Lionel wisely closed his mouth.

"I know what I am talking about, Lionel."

"My lord, His Grace has been in Kingsmere. And Livia disappeared from Pudding Lane. That does not mean—"

Henry stepped closer. "He knows her."

Lionel inhaled slowly. "If he does, why would he hide it?"

Why would Richard hide her? To protect her from Beaumont? Or to keep her for himself?

"I don’t know," Henry said. "But we are going to find out."

"My lord," Lionel said carefully, "I know you have a habit of listening to what people don’t say, but are you sure you are not merely grasping at straws?"

Henry turned to him slowly. Lionel immediately knew he had chosen a dangerous sentence.

Lionel bowed his head slightly. "I only mean, Your Highness, that you are desperate for news. Desperation can make patterns out of shadows."

"Good. Then let us examine the shadows."

"My lord—"

"You once mentioned to me that Richard and Stephen met at Beaumont’s."

"Yes, sire. But His Grace did not know what Stephen was doing there."

"Yes, yes..." Henry waved that away, pacing again. "But that was the same night Stephen came back to inform me that Livia was sick with the flu."

Lionel’s brow tightened.

"Which was not true," Henry continued. "Beaumont had her entertaining another gentleman."

Lionel watched him, trying to follow the line of thought.

Henry saw the doubt on his face and nearly snapped from frustration. "Think, Lionel."

"I am thinking, Your Highness."

"Then think faster."

Lionel inhaled. "Richard was at Beaumont’s that night. Stephen saw him there. Later, we discovered Livia had not been ill but had been sent to another man. You think that man may have been Richard?"

Henry stopped pacing. He hated hearing it said aloud. "I don’t know."

But the possibility had teeth.

"My lord..." Lionel said softly. "Please..."

Henry turned on him. "If Richard has her..." He did not finish. He could not.

"What would you have me do?"

"Find Beaumont," Henry said. "Drag him from whatever hole he crawled into. He better give me the list of customers at his tavern on the night Livia went missing. I want names, Lionel. Every man who entered that building. Every man who asked for Livia. Every man who looked at her twice."

Lionel bowed once. "Yes, Your Highness."

Henry’s jaw tightened. "And tell Beaumont if he lies to me, if he hides one name, I will crush the rest of his life."

"Yes, sire," Lionel said.

"Also go back to Kingsmere," Henry ordered. "Make sure everyone on the estate is accounted for."

"My lord..." Lionel chose his next words carefully. Very carefully. "Why not just ask him?"

Henry turned. The look in his eyes made Lionel wish, briefly, that he had remained asleep. "Because he stood there, and listened to me bleed my heart out. He watched me speak of her like a man losing his mind, and he did not think to mention anything." Henry stepped closer. "It means he either has her or knows where she is and doesn’t want me to know about it."

"My lord, the duke is your friend."

"That is precisely why this stinks worse."

Lionel drew in a breath. "This will not end well, Your Highness."

"I don’t care, I don’t care!" Henry shouted. His eyes burned with rage. "I want her. I want Livia. Don’t you understand?"

Lionel understood that the king had gone beyond desire, beyond obsession, beyond pride. This was love twisted until it had become violent in him. And if Richard had hidden her—God help them all—then friendship would not save either man from the wound that was coming.

The rage in the king’s eyes frightened Lionel to his bones.

He bowed quickly. "I will get to it immediately, sire." Lionel turned and left without another word.

Henry stood alone in the chamber, breathing hard, every inch of him shaking with the effort not to break something.

If Richard had her, he would find out. And if Richard had touched her— Henry shut his eyes. No.

He could not think that yet.

*****

The queen mother was in her drawing room when the princess’s new maid was announced.