The Virgin's Spy (Tudor Legacy #2)(30)

“You’re using me to make King Philip think that his daughter is truly congratulatory.”

“I am using you to make Philip think that his daughter truly misses him. He knows you, Christopher. He never forgets those who surround his daughter and he is perfectly aware of your particular closeness to Anabel.” Using her pet name was a gamble, designed to make Kit soften. “Philip will expect that you are there simply to be friendly. And while he is blinded by your—innocence, shall we say?—some things might be let slip.”

She’d expected one of two reactions. Either he would continue to protest his uselessness or he would flat-out refuse.

But Kit surprised her—which was probably why she liked him so much. “When do I report to Lord Burghley?” he asked, and his smile was a perfect match to his mother’s most impulsive, most dangerous, smiles.

—

Anabel had expected to remain in Ludlow for some weeks after her investiture, but with the news from Ireland, she had chosen to follow her mother back to London. Taking up residence for the first time at Charterhouse—where Lord Rochford had both lived and died—she waited. Her household kept her very well informed; she knew to the day when Kit arrived at court and knew to the hour when he met with her mother. She even had a fairly good idea of what the queen was asking of him. And because she knew Kit, she knew he would say yes.

What Anabel didn’t know was if he would come to see her of his own accord.

He did, a nicely judged two days after his audience with her mother. Though she considered herself nothing if not meticulously prepared for every eventuality, her heartbeat quickened a little when Madalena announced, “Lord Christopher Courtenay.”

Madalena Arias had been part of Anabel’s life as long as she could remember. At the age of ten, Madalena was chosen by King Philip to leave her native Spain and come to England to serve his young daughter. Raised in wealth and luxury in Seville, Madalena had grown into an exotic beauty thanks to her mixed heritage of aristocratic Spanish blood and a Moorish grandmother. But she seemed to have no life beyond serving Anabel, a fact that occasionally bothered the princess but just as quickly was pushed aside. If Madalena wanted anything, she had only to ask. It wasn’t Anabel’s job to pull ambition out of her.

The princess received Kit as no doubt her mother had, seated in royal state with her own coat of arms as Princess of Wales on the canopy over her chair. She always dressed with care, and was cross to catch herself wondering if Kit liked the peacock blue shade of her gown.

In just the few steps needed to stand before her and bow, Anabel thought Kit had aged far more than just the four months they’d been separated. For the first time she caught sight of him as a stranger might, rather than simply the boy she’d known all her life. She could also see the man he would be—in perhaps a far shorter time than she’d expected. Everyone thought him so like Minuette, but there was nothing soft or warm about his stance. Only his hazel eyes were familiar.

At least his voice had not changed. “You look well, Your Highness. Suitably royal.”

“It’s all stagecraft, you know that. The dress, the setting, the arrogance—”

“Oh, no. The arrogance is all yours.”

And just like that they were grinning at each other as though nothing uncomfortable had ever happened between them. It made it easier for Anabel to ask, “So you’ve agreed to go to Spain at my mother’s request?”

“The queen requested. But I did not agree for her sake. I did it for yours.”

“You think I am so anxious to send you away? As I recall, you were the one who declined to serve in my household.”

“I think that there might be things you would truly like to convey to your father that you would not feel comfortable confiding to professional diplomats. They see him only as the King of Spain. I see him, first and always, as your father.”

Damn Kit. There was no one in the world who could burrow into her secrets half as easily. Except, of course, Pippa. Because being so easily read annoyed and agitated her in equal measure, Anabel rose from her seat and began to pace. Kit continued to stand solidly where he’d begun. Watching her. She could feel him watching her, as though his gaze were as tangible as silk.

When had he learned to be still?

“My father has two new children to concern himself with. Two new sons. It is surely what he wanted. Now he can safely consign me to the fiery Catholic hell awaiting.”

“Your brothers,” Kit said unexpectedly.

“What?”

“His sons are your half brothers, Anabel. Now you at last have siblings of your own. I know you always wished for them.”

“Only until I was old enough to realize that I’ve had siblings all along. I’ve had you—all of you.”

“Anabel—”

“I have no need to be loved by two babies who will be raised to hate me and all I stand for—if not by our mutual father, then certainly by their mother. Mary Stuart will never let her sons forget how England kept her prisoner. She will raise them to take vengeance.”

“Is that the message you wish me to carry?”

“I have prepared gifts for the boys, and a personal letter to my father. I should like to ensure that he is given it without interference from any diplomats or clerics, English or Spanish.” She turned to face him, startled to realize he’d moved closer without her hearing. She could see the ring of green that circled and bled into the gold of his eyes.