The Innocent by Posie Graeme-evans Page B

prickled its way up and down her spine and lodged in her nipples and groin with a buzzing warmth that made her squirm, though she tried to hide it. She smiled up at Edward tremulously, then once more dropped her glance as he handed her to her feet.
    Lady Margaret, wishing to help the girl recover her composure, smiled warmly at her and issued a suitably diverting request: “Anne, would you find more lampreys in saffron for my Lord of Warwick, please—and then I should like you to ask Jassy to come to me for a moment.”
    Below the dais, Piers found his attention caught by the charming Lady Rivers, kinswoman of the queen. She had a remarkably fine pair of breasts, so nearly exposed in the very low-cut, tight-laced bodice of her gown it was hard to look elsewhere, but he saw something of what was happening at the high table out of the corner of his eye.
    Piers was enraged to see his stepmother’s younger maid having her head so comprehensively turned by the king’s attention. With Edward’s reputation, today’s small dalliance might not be the end of the matter. He might have to move fast. Perhaps very soon, indeed. And he smiled at that thought: the chase was sweet after all.
    His smile delighted Lady Rivers. The new powdered carmine in her cleavage was clearly a success; this rather good-looking young man might also enjoy her newly gilded nipples a little later also!
    A further hour passed and it became apparent that the king was restless to be gone. Margaret caught her husband’s eye and, using Anne as an intermediary, gave him a message that she felt the feast should end soon, and would arrange it if her husband was willing.
    He looked back at her and nodded discreetly, proud of the good show she and his household were making. In truth, Master Mathew had had just about enough of this rowdy crowd from the court. For all his desire to advance, he was not a court sycophant, and even though he was sure that entertaining this motley crew of aristocrats and magnates would advantage his business, he was heartily sick of their patronizing ways—especially toward his beautiful and cultured wife who, he reminded himself with a snort, was better bred than most of them. He watched with admiration as she signalled, unobtrusively, for Anne to once more fill the king’s cup; clearly she felt this would give him the opportunity to gracefully take his leave.
    “Your Majesty, would it please you to have more of these comfits—or a little of the sack?” Anne kept her eyes down and her head modestly lowered as she proffered the last of the sweetmeats to Edward.
    “No, sweet child—I have eaten and drunk my fill at your master’s board,” Edward said, then raised his hand to the herald, who had stood behind him, unmoving, for the entire feast.
    The herald, a good-looking boy with the first fluff of a beard on his bright pink cheeks, called out in a surprisingly deep and loud voice for one so young: “Pray silence. Silence there for His Majesty.”
    “My friends, it is time for us to depart and leave Master Mathew and Lady Margaret Cuttifer to the enjoyment of their day without this swarm of locusts to further waste their substance!” The ladies laughed gently behind their hands at this sally from their king—clearly he wanted them to laugh because he was smiling easily. “Sir, and you, lady, I have something for your name day and in celebration of Lady Margaret’s miraculous restoration.”
    And with that, William Hastings, the king’s Lord Chamberlain and greatest friend, moved forward and with the deepest of bows held out a blue velvet bag, embroidered with the leopards of Anjou, to the king. Edward rose from his chair and from the inside of this bag drew out a handsome heavy gold chain made of interlinked S s studded with carnelians, crystals, and small, exquisite enamel medallions.
    Carefully he dropped the chain over Master Mathew’s head. It was a particularly fine piece of work—altogether a princely gift—but