Chapter 318: I Am Trying To Understand

He led her towards the centre of the ballroom. Around them, guests began to arrange themselves into pairs. Richard bowed. Livia curtsied. They moved into the steps.

"I hear the sarcasm in your voice," Livia said as they turned. "What do you want me to say?"

Richard kept his gaze on hers. "Nothing."

"Then what do you want from me?" Her voice lowered, though her smile remained for the benefit of everyone watching. "Do you want me to apologise? Beg for your forgiveness? Because I will do it."

The dance carried them apart for a moment, then back together. "You have nothing to apologise for,"

Her eyes searched his.

"You were forced into this situation," Richard continued. "It is only natural that you make the best of it. I know he does not deserve you,"

"Can we just enjoy this dance?" Livia asked. "I would not want to ruin the few moments I spend with you...I want to talk to you like two adults. Two friends."

Richard chuckled. "Friends?" he asked. "Forgive me. I am trying to understand."

"Please do not make this harder."

"Livia, I know what you taste like. Friends?" he repeated softly.

"Richard, please..."

"I am surprised the king allowed you to come alone, knowing I would be here," Richard said.

Livia kept her face calm. It was becoming a skill now, this calmness. Once, every feeling would rush across her face. Whitehall had begun teaching her otherwise. Now she could smile while bleeding. She could listen while measuring danger. She could dance with Richard and still keep her hand steady in his.

"Because he trusts me," she said.

The dance moved them apart again, then returned them to each other. Richard’s hand settled properly at her waist as the steps required, but there was nothing easy in the touch.

"I need to talk to you, Liv," he said. "But not here. Perhaps later, when the company is too drunk to care."

"If this is about us and what we used to be," she said carefully, "I am afraid there is no need."

"Because of him?" He leaned slightly closer as the dance turned them through a new measure. "He has fooled you too, has he not? So fooled that you cannot even relax in my arms anymore. You used to be my intended,"

Livia looked up at him. The music swelled. Somewhere near the edge of the ballroom, Lord Langford was watching them with dread. "Used to be, Your Grace,"

"There are things you need to know before you become queen," Richard said.

"What things?"

"I will tell you."

"Tell me now."

"Not here." His gaze held hers. "I also need to trust that you will choose to do the right thing."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

Richard looked past her for a moment, scanning the room. "Not here...Later, when we have a little more privacy."

*****

Henry stood at the centre of his bedchamber while Stephen poured his wine. He had asked the same question twice already and looked ready to ask it a third time. His chamber was quiet, lit by candles and the low glow of the hearth. Henry could imagine the ball and Livia standing in the middle of it all without him.

Exactly as he had intended.

Stephen handed him the cup.

"Do you think I did the right thing?" he asked. Henry looked into the wine. "Leaving her to face her debut without me."

"Your Majesty never liked balls."

"Surely I should be able to tolerate one night for her," Henry said.

Stephen adjusted the wine jug on the table. "Surely."

Henry moved towards the window. "I want her to have tonight to shine by herself,"

"I know."

"If I am there, I would overshadow her. I do not want that for her."

"No, sire."

Henry turned back. "We need all the positive attention we can get before the wedding. Geoffrey has worked hard to make this about her dignity, her place in his house. The Church is watching. The court is watching." He could picture Livia in the gown she had shown him the night before. The same gown he had ruined in the great withdrawing chamber.

He should be there. He should not be there. "I just..." Henry exhaled. "I want this evening to belong to her."

"I agree, Sire."

"With what exactly?" Henry asked and narrowed his eyes. "Stephen, are you merely mumbling nonsense and not listening to me at all?"

"Never, Your Majesty. I merely have many matters on my mind."

Henry lowered the cup slightly. "Like what?"

"The queen’s lodgings, sire. I have been considering the changes needed before the wedding. The former queen’s apartments remain... somewhat unsuitable."

"Unsuitable how?"

"The former queen had a very flamboyant taste. A number of painted panels. Several embroidered hangings."

"Make sure there is a large bookcase in there," he said.

Stephen chuckled. "I have already informed the joiner, my lord. I thought Her Majesty-to-be might require more space than ordinary ladies."

"Ordinary ladies?"

"Some ladies collect jewels, sire."

"Livia collects books." Henry smiled faintly. "It is the only flamboyant thing she would like to own."

"I thought the same."

Henry looked down into his wine. "I meant to tell her tonight. After the ball."

"About what, sire?"

"You know. My broken mind," Henry finished.

Stephen stepped forward. "No, sire. Your mind is not broken."

Henry gave him a tired look.

"I do not care for the physician’s language." Stephen continued. "I do not believe Your Majesty is broken. I believe what Your Majesty craves is inner peace. Lady Livia gives you that. She calms you."

"Which is why I must tell her."

Stephen lowered his eyes. "Yes, I know."

Henry watched him. "But?"

"My lord—"

"Say it."

Stephen drew a breath. "Could Your Majesty not wait until after the wedding?"

Henry set the cup down very carefully. "Why would I do that?"

Stephen swallowed. "My lord, I..."

"You think she will leave me," Henry said.

"I think Lady Livia is a good woman."

"And yet?"

Stephen’s hands folded before him, fingers tightening together. "And there is the Duke of Kingsmere. It does not matter that Your Majesty suggested he marry. If your condition becomes public, I fear the duke will not relent and..."

"She was indeed charmed by him," Henry said quietly. "You think it will happen again."

"I am only saying there are many things spinning in my head at the moment, Your Majesty," Stephen said. "Bear me no mind."

His mind was moving too quickly now. Livia had been charmed by Richard once. Maybe Stephen was right.

Maybe Henry should wait until after the wedding to tell her. Once vows were spoken, once the Church had bound them and England had recognised her as his wife, once Livia belonged to him in law as well as in heart, then he could confess the full truth. She would be hurt, yes.

But she would stay. Shame followed the thought at once.

No.

That was not love. He had hurt her too much already. The least he could do was give her the truth before she chose forever.

Henry turned away, jaw tight.

Then Stephen cleared his throat. "But about Your Majesty’s earlier concern...Leaving Lady Livia alone on such a significant evening. I believe Your Majesty is wrong."

Henry lifted one brow.

"Lady Livia loves you. She shows it," Stephen said, "even in her anger."

That made Henry smile despite himself. So he was not the only one who had noticed. Livia’s anger had always been full of him. Even when she fought, she turned towards him. Even when she resisted, she remained engaged. Livia had never hated him as cleanly as she claimed.

"She understands your reason for staying away," Stephen continued. "I believe that. But understanding is not the same as not needing you there."

Henry’s smile faded.

"You need to show her off. Let England not merely hear about your love," Stephen said. "Let them feel it. Let them see she is beloved. She balances you, sire. You should elevate her."

Henry got to his feet at once. "Fine. You have convinced me."

"I have?"

"Dress me up," Henry said. "We have a ball to attend."

*****

Geoffrey had the next dance with Livia. He spoke little while they danced, but his presence did its work. Every guest watching understood the message.

Lady Livia Valenti was under Langford protection. Anyone who wished to insult her would have to insult him too.

After Geoffrey, Master Hartwell approached her with visible nervousness.

"Master Hartwell," she said warmly.

"My lady," he replied. "If your dance list is not already conquered, I would be honoured."

The dance with him was sweet. Hartwell did not have Richard’s elegance or Henry’s command, but he had kindness. He spoke of books, manuscripts and for several blessed minutes Livia felt her shoulders loosen.

Then he told her, awkwardly and with unmistakable affection, that the king himself had invited him.

Livia smiled at the thought. Henry couldn’t be there but he had sent someone he thought would make an adequate stand in for him.