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Honored Guest

Chapter 23

Though the audience with the king and queen had ended in her favor, Evelyn's mind was still reeling when the servants showed her to a guestroom. Her heart had almost stopped to see Lily squatting between the throne chairs, red fur naked and pink lips bulging between her slender thighs with arousal. Her ears pricked forward when she saw Evelyn and she went still. A small part of Evelyn burned to see the queen reach down, and smiling at the young duchess maliciously, she slowly stroked Lily's red mane, as if to say, "Mine. All mine."

Evelyn didn't let the king and queen know her true motivations for coming and avoided looking at Lily as much as possible. But both would surely know she was running from a marriage. Thanks once again to Hadly, she knew the king had sent for her, that court gossip had reached him and he was aware of her predicament. As she stood before the dais and courteously addressed the king and queen, the king stroked his lip and narrowed his eyes, and she knew he was silently undressing her.

"The foolish notion crossed my mind that I should run away," Evelyn said to the polished floor. "I humbly request that you extend an invitation of hospitality and in the morning, send me home with an escort. I am certain my husband the duke would compensate his majesty for his troubles."

King Bastian laughed softly. "Dick? I'm sure he would." He voice was barely a murmur, but the hall became so still the moment he opened his mouth that everyone heard him.

The court chimed in, teetering with laughter as Evelyn smiled at the floor: the king was alluding in much amusement to an old rumor that every dog in his court knew better than to acknowledge without him having acknowledged it first.

Being heir of a prominent and purebred bloodline, Dick had attended the king's court on many occasions as a boy, as an adolescent, and as a young male ripening into adulthood. He and the king had become good friends and were fond of playing tennis, though a vicious rumor spread fast enough that they were fond of playing other games. The rumors weren't true, however. Dick was a lot of things, but he was not foolish enough to mess around with a king. Politics were as deadly in the king's court as a swift blade.

"Your visit has taken us quite by surprise, dearest Evelyn. We must think of our guests," said the queen and gestured her scepter around the hall. She smiled nasty as a shark. "We have room enough in the stables. Or perhaps in the sty?"

Evelyn smiled good-naturedly, determined not to let her irritation show. She saw Lily scowl as the court laughed merrily. But the king was not laughing, and as the court realized there was no smile on his handsome face, they fell to nervous giggling, then fell silent.

King Bastian glared sideways at his wife, and Queen Donica's lips tightened. There was a pause as he stared at her, and Evelyn held back a smile as she realized: the king was giving his wife one chance to stop acting like a royal brat.

"Of course," went on the queen and swallowed bitterly, "you must know I am only teasing, dear girl. You . . . are always welcome here," she said with stiff difficulty.

The king smiled behind the finger that caressed his lip. "Let it be known," he said, and the room immediately fell silent again, "that the Duchess Evelyn Lorraine Kingsley is an honored guest in the home of his majesty, your king. And she is welcome to stay . . ." His eyes traced over Evelyn and he smiled. "As long as she wishes."

A sour look crossed the queen's face.

Evelyn held down a blush and lowered herself in a curtsy. "You are too gracious, your majesty . . ."

"Indeed I am," the king agreed. He offered his paw to the queen; with a haughty jerk of her chin, she took it; and as the king and queen rose to their feet, everyone in the hall knelt as one. The queen tugged gently on Lily's lead, and the vixen - who had been staring sadly at Evelyn - jolted and scurried after her. Evelyn watched them go, her mind straining to calculate any number of ways that she could free her love. She had been out of the king's court for so long, she didn't even know where to begin.

It had been a long time since Evelyn had appeared before King Bastian in his court. The first time, she was thirteen, a budding girl in a blue gown with her white mane pulled up in a ribbon. She came to court with her mother and father while Charles was left behind for fear the rumors about him would offend. The king was so taken with her innocence and beauty that he threw a grand ball for her, and ignoring the tight lips of the queen, he danced with Evelyn all night, listening in amusement to her girlish delight.

Evelyn remembered rambling happily to him about the food, squealing about the decorations, and going on and on about the childish things that preoccupied her adolescent mind: the fact that Charles kept beating her at chess, the fact that she had outgrown her favorite gowns, the ever-swelling crowd of annoying boys who had noticed her, and how she wished she could punch her cousin Dick in the face just once and still be a lady.

King Bastian listened to all of it, enrapt, and he laughed so genuinely, she soon felt at ease. He was very young at the time and was barely out of his teens even as she was entering them: he was sixteen, an absolute gentleman, and had been big and tall even then. His gray eyes were always gentle when they looked down at her, gentle and amused and practically glowing with admiration. He was newly king in those days, for his father had died in an accident, and in the wake of the funeral, he was crowned king of the land.

Queen Donica had also been quite young: fifteen years old, his virgin bride, freshly crowned and doubly spoiled by her king. She spent the entire ball watching from her throne as Evelyn danced with her husband, her angry green eyes bright as acid, her lips tight with silent rage. Eventually, she found a way to separate the two: she pretended to faint. This caused a commotion as the queen slipped down on her throne and her magnificent red bun spilled free. Servants ran to collect her, and the king - always so concerned for her wellbeing - apologized to Evelyn, bowed, and ran to his wife. Queen Donica "came around" only when the king held her, and after a short conversation with her, he ended the ball immediately and retired to bed with her.

It was after the incident that the rumors began to spread: Evelyn Lorraine Kingsley was the envy of the queen herself! More out of pragmatism than anything else, Evelyn's parents kept her from the king's court for three years, allowing the rumors to die down and the queen's temper to cool.

At sixteen, Evelyn returned with her parents, a lovely young thing with enormous breasts and round hips who turned heads in a ripple as she entered the garden. Evelyn was the talk of the party, a blushing beauty who spoke intelligently and politely, who could lead a conversation about music, art, and poetry effortlessly. The males flocked to her but kept a gentlemanly distance under the watchful eye of her father.

The king alone dared take Evelyn's arm, and walking with her through the garden, they spoke in happy whispers of many things. And then it happened. The king said that he loved her, that he should have been with her, not Queen Donica, and wouldn't she stay with him? Forever and always? And then he kissed her. So sweetly. It was her very first kiss and it left her trembling. She ran away blushing with her curls mussed, and no one said a word about it, though they knew exactly what had happened. Duke Verneus went to the king and politely announced that he would now ride home with his family and never return. And they never did.

Present-day Evelyn dreaded the inevitable moment when the king would corner her and they would speak alone. Even though they had not parted on good terms, he had always considered her a dear friend and had sent her many a letter in the years that passed, begging that she return to court. He was more than eager to sit down over tea and talk - as friends, he promised her.

But Evelyn knew better. Though the king's intentions were pure, it was only a matter of time before he let his feelings get the best of him, and then the queen would have her head. He wished for her to take tea with him in the morning, and then he would likely wind up kissing her. That morning tea must never come. She must find Lily and break free!

When the servants brought Evelyn to her guestroom, they had insisted upon helping her undress - as if to make certain she really went to bed! Silent and dutiful as all Beaucerons, they turned down the bed for her and helped her slip into her nightgown. Then they filed out, silent as ghosts, leaving Evelyn alone in the dark.

Evelyn lay in her enormous bed for several minutes, letting time pass, letting the guards lurking the corridor believe she had really gone to bed. Then she rose and quietly dressed again in the riding clothes she had donned before leaving Howlester. As she went to the door, she suddenly realized that she hadn't a clue where they were keeping Lily. She halted in frustration.

"Perhaps I'll just . . . poke around," Evelyn muttered. She opened the door a crack . . . and froze to find one of the Beaucerons staring at her. Apparently, he had been stationed to guard her door and stood across the hall from it, staring at it solemnly, muscular arms folded across his chest. His expression didn't change when Evelyn looked at him, but she knew he was not going to let her simply walk by either. Defeated, she closed the door and went back to bed.