His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 134: They Are Engaged

"And now poof," Bella said, flicking her fingers, "they are engaged."

"She loves him?" His brow rose in desperate resistance. As if if he questioned it properly, the answer might change.

Instead, Bella nodded.

"Indeed, my lord."

Henry’s mouth went dry.

"The duke is quite lucky to have a woman such as her," Bella said. She kept going, sweetly, innocently, while Henry sat there and died in pieces. "She will do him good, I think."

Henry’s smile faded. He lifted the wine at last and drank then sat there listening.

Interested.

Jealous.

Quietly violent in his imagination. Bella, bless her unsuspecting heart, kept speaking of Diana, every word peeling skin from him.

He nodded in all the proper places. Smiled when Bella laughed. Asked a question now and then, careful enough not to reveal how desperately he wanted every detail and how badly every detail wounded him.

The more Bella spoke, the stronger the ugly, pressing need grew inside him. Richard had to be removed.

Richard at Kingsmere with Livia in his house, in his bed, under his roof, filling her world with marriage promises? No. That could not stand. Henry might be trying to be good, but he was not a saint.

Bella sighed dreamily. "I’m sure she will be popping out babies in no time."

Henry nearly choked on nothing. The image hit him so hard he had to look away. Livia with Richard’s child.

No.

No, thank you.

Hell itself could not have designed a more personal torment.

"Hmmm," Henry said. "It is quite sad for Richard."

Bella blinked. "Why, my lord?"

Henry turned the wine cup slowly between his fingers. A thought had arrived. Small at first then elegant then magnificent. He had spent the whole day trying not to be cruel. Trying not to drag Livia into scandal. Trying not to break Richard with the blunt force of royal power. But perhaps he did not need blunt force. Perhaps he only needed geography.

Henry’s mouth curved. "Because before this engagement," he said lightly, "I had nominated Richard to be the new ambassador to France for England."

Bella’s eyes widened. "Oh my God..." She stared at him. "Does he know?"

"Not yet."

"Oh my God," she said again.

Henry leaned back, watching her reaction with the first real pleasure he had felt all evening. "Keep it to yourself...It was supposed to be a surprise."

Bella shook her head. "Poor Diana."

"Diana will be fine." He would make sure of that.

Richard could go to France and serve England with all the charm, wit, and useless handsomeness that had caused half this disaster in the first place. Let him flirt with French duchesses. Let him drown in diplomatic dinners and courtly nonsense.

And Livia? She could remain in England. Near Whitehall, near Bella, near him. Henry looked down at the notes again, at her careful handwriting, and his smile returned.

Why the hell had he not thought of it sooner? Why the hell had he not come up with this idea sooner?

He was king. He could move pieces however he liked. That was what kings did, was it not? They sent men to war. They arranged marriages. They decided who governed, who represented England abroad, who sat at court, who was conveniently needed elsewhere for the good of the realm.

Richard’s charm made him perfect for the role. The French would love him. Half of England already did, usually against their better judgment. Yes, he would do.

He would do quite well. Far away in France where his charming hands could not touch Livia.

"You should speak with him, Your Highness, before deciding anything," Bella said.

"Hmmm..." Henry murmured. "I will weigh my options."

"Or maybe he can go there with Diana."

There was never a moment in his life Henry had wanted to strangle a woman. Bella was dangerously close to becoming the first.

Just one brief, satisfying vision of reaching across the table and shaking sense into her pretty little head until every terrible suggestion fell out.

Go there with Diana?

Richard and Livia in France, playing husband and wife in some embassy residence, making babies?

No.

Absolutely fucking not.

"If she is to be the Duchess," he said instead, "then she has to stay behind to handle matters of the estate."

Bella paused. "Oh... That is true." She considered it seriously. "On one hand, being ambassador is good for him and his family name. On the other, it will keep him away from his duties as husband."

"Well," Henry said, "when your country calls, you have no choice but to answer."

Bella sighed. "That’s also true."

Henry watched her, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Bella’s chamber had not given him what she had clearly prepared it to give, and yet it had given him something else.

Conversation.

"It really was nice talking to you, Bella," he said smiling faintly. "I wonder why we never had a conversation like this before."

"Because now we have something to talk about."

"No," Henry said, shaking his head a little. "I think you changed, Bella. You used to be shy," he continued. "Reserved. Speaking only when spoken to. The perfect picture of a court lady."

Bella looked away. He was right and somehow, she had not even noticed it herself. Before Thomas, she had been careful.

But then her son died, and the world had not ended properly. The sun still rose. The palace still breathed.

And Bella had discovered that after losing the one thing she had thought would break her forever, there was very little left that could frighten her the same way.

She shrugged. "I guess I have nothing more to lose."

He got to his feet then. Bella rose but he held out his hand first. She placed her hand in his. They stood close enough for all their history to breathe between them.

Tenderness.

Gratitude.

A shared grief no one else could hold quite the same way.

"You were always special," he said quietly. "Thank you for being there when you were."

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