Seduced by Grace by Jennifer Blake Page A

the dais at the far end of the great hall.
    David took a hasty step toward Marguerite only to stop with a whispered oath. To go to her now would only make her more conspicuous. There was little he could do to shield her. As she was Henry’s ward, that duty and privilege belonged to the king.
    Halliwell desired to speak with Henry VII, it seemed, for he approached an equerry with a low-voiced demand. The equerry mounted the dais to whisper in Henry’s ear. A negligent gesture of assent, and Halliwell was led forward. His son attempted to follow, but the way was barred to him. Lord Halliwell went to one knee, struggling up again when given leave. The king’s face reflected weariness and strained patience as he put the dutiful question that would allow the peer to speak. His eyelids lowered to conceal his gaze as he listened to the harangue that resulted.
    Henry was gifted at diplomacy; he had learned to be in the years when he had been dependent upon the goodwill of the rulers of Brittany and France who had given him sanctuary. Edward IV, and his brother Richard III after him, had promised enormous sums if the last Lancastrian heir to the throne should be turned over to them. Had Henry been delivered, his head would have been forfeit in the wink of an eye. Bartering for his life could make a man wily indeed.
    It was also true that Henry was a mite stingy. It came, so David had heard, from inheriting a kingdom that was bankrupt from decades of internecine warfare and the depredations of Edward’s queen who had enriched her family at crown expense. Whatever Henry might have pledged to Halliwell for his part in this affair, it was unlikely that he would be adding to it.
    Where that might leave Lady Marguerite, David could not think. He had Henry’s word that she would never again be pressed into marriage, but could he be trusted to keep it? What if Halliwell had decided he wanted her after all? Could Henry refuse agreement, especially if it meant forfeiting Halliwell’s support, or even losing him to the Yorkist camp?
    At a tug on the skirt of his doublet, David looked down. Astrid was beside him, her piquant features twisted in a furious scowl. She gave a sharp jerk of her head to indicate that he should lean down to hear her. As he bent, she seized his sleeve and dragged him lower to speak into his ear.
    “My mistress would have you come to her with all speed. Lord Halliwell means to have converse with her, and mayhap more. He said just now that he’ll be dealing with her after he has spoken to the king. You may wish to know what the old vulture has to say.”
    There was nothing David wanted more, but he could not consider his desire alone. “Will my presence not make matters worse?”
    “How can it?” Astrid spread her short arms. “At least he will not be able to take her away with him if you are by her side.”
    David straightened again, the better to observe the meeting between the aging peer and the king. “Lady Marguerite fears he may attempt it?”
    “You did not see the look on his face,” the small woman said with a shudder. “You did not hear him. He said their betrothal stands, and will not be ended until he is done with her.”
    “Did he now?” David’s voice was soft, but resolution rose like a wall of iron in his chest. Astrid’s eyes widened and she fell back a step. He forced a smile and extended his hand to her. “Lead on, little one. No one will take your lady from here, this I promise.”
    It was as well that they were no great distance away. Henry must have made short work of the impromptu audience, for Lord Halliwell, eyes blazing with suppressed anger, was leaving the dais already. His son moved to intercept him and they stood for an instant in close talk. Both turned then, bearing down upon where Lady Marguerite sat.
    David lengthened his stride. He reached her first, and she came to her feet, putting out a hand to him.
    “Thank you,” she said in quiet fervor. “I would not involve