Amy’s eyes widened in disbelief as this tidbit was revealed, and Barbara burst into laughter. “From the look on your bride’s face, Greystone, I would wager you share none of Richmond’s shortcomings!”
Try as he might, Colin couldn’t help but laugh at Barbara’s vulgarity, and after taking a moment to digest Barbara’s meaning, a red-cheeked Amy joined in.
“Ah, Colin.” Barbara’s blue eyes danced with mischief. “I see you finally found someone with a sense of humor.”
Amy cocked her head, and a slightly bewildered look overcame her features.
“It’s old history, my dear,” Barbara explained with a wave of her elegant hand. “But let me be the first to welcome you to court. So refreshing to have a new face in the crowd. We’re all so blasted bored of one another!”
Colin was inordinately pleased. It was the most ringing endorsement he’d ever heard Barbara give another lady, and it boded well indeed for Amy’s acceptance into society.
Just then a courtier came up to curry favor with Barbara, and with a roll of her eyes, she departed.
Amy turned to Colin. “I didn’t know you were friends with Lady Castlemaine.”
“As Barbara said, love, it’s a small circle. Everyone knows everyone else.”
“But you seem to know her especially well,” Amy pointed out, her voice tinged with an unmistakable touch of jealousy.
“Is that what you’re thinking?” It warmed his heart to find Amy so covetous of his person. “Me? With Barbara Palmer?” He shuddered expressively. “Why, she’s five years older than I am!”
Amy laughed. “That’s not so great a difference! How long have you known her?”
“We knew each other in exile, and she was all of fifteen when she took up with Lord Chesterfield. She went straight from him to Charles—with some overlap, I suspect, since her oldest daughter, although recognized by His Majesty, bears a striking resemblance to Chesterfield.” Colin’s voice took on a melodramatic tone. “So, you see, I never got my chance with her.” He sighed theatrically.
“Oh, my,” Amy said. “What shocking scandals are to be discovered by attending court!”
“Enjoying yourself, my dear?”
The voice was resonant and impressive—it was King Charles, talking to her. She turned and gazed up at him in disbelief. As tall as Colin, or perhaps an inch higher, he was even more extraordinary standing beside her than he had been upon his throne. She grinned and nodded, the only reply she was capable of at the moment.
“Amy is a bit overwhelmed, I’m afraid,” Colin answered for her.
“I am not,” she retorted, finding her voice again. “I’m having a splendid time, Your Majesty.”
Charles smiled down at her, his even white teeth flashing beneath his black mustache. “We’re so pleased to have you here, Lady Greystone. A new face, and such a lovely one at that.”
Amy colored—becomingly, she hoped. However, to her great consternation, she seemed to have lost her ready wit. “Thank you, sire” was all she could manage.
“The next dance is a minuet. Might you know it?”
She remembered Robert scoffing at her dancing lessons. The elegant minuet was staid enough even for a pregnant cow. “Oh, yes. It’s one of my favorites.”
Colin discreetly elbowed her in the ribs. Before coming to court, he’d explained that ladies were supposed to ask the king to dance, not vice versa, and she had duly noted the information. But she hadn’t expected to make use of it.
Was His Majesty hinting that he wished to dance the minuet with her?
She looked up at Colin, and he nodded circumspectly.
“Would—would you care to dance the minuet with me, Your Majesty?” she stammered out.
King Charles proved a superb dancer. As he gazed into her eyes, Amy realized with a start that although his looks were far from the classic English standard, he was the most blatantly sensual man she’d ever met. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised he’d already sired eight acknowledged royal bastards, plus, most assumed, an undetermined number of unacknowledged children as well.
Charles possessed many talents, not the least of which was an uncanny ability to put his companions at ease. By the time he returned Amy to Colin, she was laughing along with him as though they’d been the best of friends for years.
“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him, too?” Colin teased. Turning her so they were both facing Charles, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You won’t be the first, and you certainly won’t be the last,” he warned.
Bright color flooded Amy’s cheeks, for he spoke a partial truth: She was halfway in love with King Charles already, and there was nothing for it. His charm was too powerful to resist, and the prospect of a friendship with the King of England, albeit platonic, was too exciting to pass up.
Charles laughed in response. “Don’t worry on that account, Greystone. Your prowess with a sword is legendary, and something tells me you wouldn’t wear a cuckold’s horns gracefully.”
Colin dropped a kiss on the top of Amy’s head. “Neither,” he said pointedly, “would Lady Castlemaine.”
Charles threw back his head, and a rumble of laughter poured forth. “You’re quite right about that. And I’ve no wish to be skewered by either of you!”
Though no one would dare challenge the king for any slight either real or imagined, they shared a laugh at the absurd scenario. Then the king sobered, took Colin by the arm, and pulled him aside. “Will you come into my laboratory with me? I’ve something important to show you.”
“Of course. Amy?”
“I’ll be fine, Colin.” In fact, the Duke of Buckingham was already making his way toward her.
It seemed Barbara was right. The courtiers were dying for a diversion, and having
