Chapter 39
Margaretha
Ilsa yanked the brush through a snarl in my hair, muttering an oath under her breath. She seemed particularly ill-humored tonight, and I wondered if it was another display of her waspish mood since the masque or something more.
She set the brush on the washstand with a thump, returning my attention to the key resting beside the pitcher. The dark metal glinted in the light of the flickering candles, looking dangerous and inevitable and making my breath come faster.
“Ilsa, have you finished yet?” The warm room had turned suffocating, the idle chatter of the queen’s ladies vexing me like fingers rapping against my skull.
“You would know if I had,” she muttered, then added more loudly, “Almost done.”
Just a few more moments, a few more twists of the plait, and I would be ready for the evening’s gathering. I doubted I would ever be ready to see the prince again, but he was sure to be there, and I could avoid it no longer.
The moment Ilsa’s hands left my hair, I bolted out of the chair, my nervousness forcing me to move despite my reluctance to leave the room.
I had no notion what I would say to Felipe.
I had no desire to even think of it. My brain was sore and bruised from all the mental volleying.
Would I degrade myself? Would I abandon Samuel?
“Lady Margaretha.” Thieuloye’s voice called my attention to the ladies gathering beside the door, and I reluctantly moved to follow them.
The corridors were cold against my bare shoulders.
Belinda had insisted I wear the scarlet gown gifted to me by the prince, with its dropped neckline and exposed shoulders, and the gown did its work, attracting the eyes of the prince the moment I walked into the nobles’ gathering room.
He sent me an impish wink, his lips quirking into the grin I once thought charming.
I looked away.
I was not surprised when a short time later his voice whispered beside me, “Shall we talk?”
Still turned from him, I gave a hesitant nod, and he took my hand, pulling me toward the door and away from the nobility.
His attendants followed for propriety, but we’d hardly left the room when he ordered them to stay behind.
I allowed them to depart without a trace of shock, without a thought chasing through my mind.
There was nothing to think, nothing to feel.
Even my very limbs tingled with a pervasive numbness as Felipe tugged me to the bottom of a narrow staircase isolated from the main hall.
He backed me against a wall, propping an arm over my head and effectively trapping me.
“I’d almost given up on you. You look”—his eyes trailed over my dress, lingering on my neck, my shoulders—“ravishing.” Lifting his free hand, he trailed his fingers across my bare shoulder and over my collarbone.
I studied the buttons of his jerkin. How odd that the scrolling patterns there should keep my interest at such a time.
“Will you not look at me?” His voice was as gentle as his finger under my chin, lifting my gaze up.
It was as if I’d been choking, suffocating for want of air, but not feeling the burn in my lungs until my eyes met his.
Then frantic panic overtook me, the sheer instinct to breathe, to live, fighting through me, and I pushed against the prince’s chest with a force that sent him staggering backward.
His eyes were wide, his chest heaving. I mirrored him, watching him. Waiting.
He straightened, his hands falling limply to his sides. “You despise me, don’t you?”
“You manipulated me,” I hissed, unable to conceal my disgust.
“Then you are only here for your brother.” He took a step back.
“You made it abundantly clear my body was the price of his freedom.” I should not be saying these words. Every outburst risked Samuel’s life.
“No.” Felipe had the audacity to look hurt.
“His freedom was only meant to help you see the stupidity of mankind’s constraints on love.
It would be nothing to overcome such inconsequential laws if you cared for me as I thought you did.
” Sinking down onto a stone step, he ran a hand through his curly hair, then lifted his sad eyes to mine. “Could you not love me, Margaretha?”
No, I would not pity him. He deserved none of it.
And yet . . .
Was he not, in many ways, a product of his upbringing?
A man born to entitlement, with no notion of how to love when life had trained him to command, force, and maneuver to get his way?
Though his affections may have been sincere—and I suspected they were—no matter how deeply he felt, he had no idea how to love unselfishly.
Maybe we suited each other more than I’d realized, with my own frail, pathetic offering of affection shaded by manipulation, by trying to entice him into saving my brother.
With my heart numb and cold, asleep after a lifetime of guilt.
With my soul struggling to free itself from the ache for another man. My love was broken too.
I sighed, settling onto the stair beside him. Despite everything, I could not hate him. “I care for you, Felipe.”
He took my hand, playing with the ring on my finger.
“Every minute apart from you is torture. My heart wrestles to flee from me, pounding against my ribs to escape its cage and settle by you, where it belongs. Can you not see?” He looked at me.
“It’s not by choice, but necessity that I’m drawn to you, and I beg you to end my torment.
You are the only woman I will ever love. ”
Dropping my eyes, I took a deep breath. “And what of your wife? Where shall I stand when you are joined with England?”
“That union of state?” His voice was laced with disgust. “How could such a cold marriage ever overtake my love for you? In the depths of my soul, Margaretha, you are the only wife I shall ever have.”
I stared at the stone beneath us, reflecting on the prince’s words, on his claim that I would be his only wife.
Pulling the idea apart and piecing it back together in different ways, a notion formed.
One that could save Samuel and allow me to keep my honor intact.
It would mean closing all other doors, of committing myself to a lifetime with the prince, but my brother would live, and my atonement would be made.
But I would need to convince Felipe.
Curling my fingers around his, I summoned my courage and lifted my eyes to his. “Felipe, if I’m to be your only wife, then I would that you prove yourself to me.”
“Gladly.” He squeezed my hand.
“Promise to marry me.”
His fingers froze on mine, but only for a moment. He almost succeeded in sounding unruffled as he answered, “You know that isn’t possible.”
“That you marry one so far beneath you?”
“That I abandon an alliance with England.”
I cocked my head. “Is not Mary Tudor your cousin? Surely familial bond is alliance enough.”
“Hardly. Half the kingdoms are ruled by my cousins. Marriage is the only way to maintain the kind of power we Habsburgs have.”
“You already rule half the continent. You can’t give up that one little piece of an island for me?” I chewed the inside of my cheek, and the prince eyed my mouth, sliding his thumb across my lower lip.
“It’s not just one island. It’s my entire kingdom. That alliance with England will give us funds and armies enough to battle the Ottomans, the French, even you rebellious Germans.”
I pulled my hand from his and stood, keeping my back to him. “You’ve managed without England up to now. Surely you can get along without them for the next sixty years.”
“Sixty?” He followed me, his fingers caressing the skin of my shoulders. “You plan to live a long life.”
I nodded, and he turned me toward him, his eyes dancing over my face before dropping to my mouth.
His head dipped closer. “Will you let me live it with you?” he whispered, then touched his lips to mine.
I should have turned away. Wisdom demanded it, but wisdom was hard to find in the face of Felipe’s tender kiss.
He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me against him, but his lips moving over mine stayed soft and sweet, matching his gentle plea.
My defenses were falling, and I was angry with myself that even after his manipulation, some part of me wanted to give in to the heady sensation of his touch.
But experience had taught me that Felipe never fought fair, and now he wielded temptation like a weapon.
Twisting from his hold, I left him behind, retreating to the safety of the palace hall.
I rested my forehead against the cool stone of a marble pillar, taking a few clarifying breaths before my pulse settled enough to let me face him when he approached.
“Felipe, if you truly loved me, it would be nothing to sacrifice alliances and advantages. King Henry of England was so in love with Lady Anne that he broke with the church for her, and I’m certainly not asking you to do anything so extreme. ”
“You saw how well that turned out for Lady Anne.” He folded his arms across his chest. “These are real sacrifices you ask. Not just of me, but of all my people. I am more than one man, more than one kingdom, even. I’m an entire empire, and I must think of what’s best for everyone.
What’s best for you too, Margaretha. I’m sure you envisioned a life where you’d be at a man’s side as his wife, but I cannot offer it.
I dare not offer it for what it could mean for you. ”
I lifted my head to meet his eye. “What do you imply?”
“You take a great risk if you insist on this course. I truly do love you, Margaretha. Maybe even so much, so selfishly, that I could forget about the losses my empire would suffer by our union. But my family would not. Maintaining the empire is all that matters to them, and I fear what they might do to you should you get in their way.”
“Are you suggesting violence?”
“Possibly.” He stepped closer but avoided my gaze.
“Nothing overt, mind you. A convenient accident or unexplained illness. Whatever it might be, I couldn’t save you.
I wouldn’t know how to prevent it.” His eyes met mine.
“I beg you to accept all that I can give you: gowns and jewels, your brother’s freedom .
. .” He came closer still, settling his hands around my waist. “And my undying love.”
Anticipating his kiss, I turned my face so that his lips met my cheek.
“It’s not love,” I said.
He pulled back to look at me. “What?”
“What you offer me is not love, else you’d never insist I sacrifice my honor for you. You’d free my brother out of kindness and goodness, not use him as a lure to compel me into servitude.”
Clenching his jaw, he caught my wrist in his tight grip.
“I use your brother to push you into seeing reason. You have no idea the patience I’ve shown you.
You think it easy to restrain myself?” He dropped my wrist and ran his hand through his hair.
“I’ve waited for you to come willingly. How is that not proof of love? ”
I swallowed, forcing myself not to look away or cower. “If you insist on holding my brother’s life as forfeit, I can no longer believe your confession of love, but would question your nobility, your decency. Even your humanity.”
He flinched, rearing his head back as if I’d slapped him.
We watched each other, the silence heavy between us until the prince finally looked away, straightening his jerkin and hair.
“It seems we’ve said all we can on the subject.
This must be goodbye.” Turning on his heel, he walked away, his boots clipping over the marble floors.
Tears pricked my eyes as I stood, wondering what to do, but I soon found myself scrambling up the stairs toward the only place I could think to go.
Belinda’s chambers were already dark, but when I quietly tapped on the door, her maid was quick to answer.
Belinda sat up so fast I wondered if she’d slept at all.
Her gaze was bright with the reflected light of the fresh-lit candle when she asked, “Is all resolved? Is Samuel’s freedom secured? ”
My eyes welled again. “I may have just destroyed all hope of saving Samuel.”
She knit her brows, climbing off her bed to meet me by the door. “But did you not speak with the prince? How did you leave things with him?”
“I’m certain he’s angry with me. After I insisted he ask permission for us to marry, he—”
“You did what?” Her face went blank.
“I couldn’t make myself . . . I wouldn’t be his—”
She turned and stormed back to the bed. “Did you exert any effort at all?”
Tears trickled down my cheeks as I stared after her in disbelief. “I’ve done nothing else for the last two years.”
“And yet you’ve failed.” She whirled on me. “Again.”
“Not failed—”
“You pushed too far, Margaretha. If the prince is done with you, who else will you turn to? No other man would dare rob the bed of the kaiser’s son, and with Samuel’s failing health, you haven’t the time to entrap another man anyway.
It’s the prince or no one, and you just limited your options to no one. ”
A hollow pit formed in my stomach, swallowing up my anger inside the nagging fear that Belinda was right. I may have lost my brother forever.
“I suppose it’s up to me to fix this mess.” She threw me one last irritated look before she climbed into bed, lying down with her back to me.
I held in my emotion, waiting until after I’d sneaked back into my chambers, after Ilsa had helped me undress, after I’d climbed into bed and pulled the coverlet up to my chin, before letting my tears trace their warm paths down my face.