"Strange, you don't look self-effacing. I've been told that you command the palace guard." Barbara tapped him with her fan. "We'll no doubt encounter each other from time to time."

  Greysteel realized she was the young wife of Roger Palmer, a prosperous London businessman currying favor with the king. As he met the various people in the Presence Chamber, he was aware of where King Charles was at all times. From the tail of his eye he had seen the Dowager Countess of Devonshire arrive with her family and Velvet, and seen how warmly Charles greeted them.

  Barbara Palmer touched his sleeve. "Who is that ra­diant young lady with His Majesty?"

  As he looked across the chamber, he saw Charles slip his arm about Velvet and spirit her through a door. Greysteel felt the muscle in his jaw tick. He smiled down at Barbara. "That is Lady Elizabeth, the daugh­ter of Newcastle, who was the king's governor. They've known each other since they were children." He realized he was trying to convince himself as much as Barbara Palmer that the encounter was innocent.

  Barbara's interest was piqued. "Ah, yes, the noble Cavendish family. I'm told the dowager and her son, the Earl of Devonshire, are both wealthy as Croesus."

  Buckingham took pleasure in admonishing her. "There are more important things than money, Bar­bara."

  "Yes—power. A lesson you learned at an early age, George."

  Velvet slipped her arms about the king's neck as he lifted her and swung her around. "Oh, Charles, wel­come home! I knew this day would come. I never gave up hope."

  Charles laughed and set her feet to the floor. "I grew old waiting. You must join the Court, Velvet. I intend to surround myself with beautiful ladies."

  "Thank you, Sire. It will be my pleasure and honor."

  "Has your father arrived back yet?" Charles asked.

  "No. We expect him any day."

  "I am eternally indebted to him and will never be able to repay what I owe him."

  "Your friendship has repaid him a thousandfold, Sire."

  "The moment he arrives, I want you to send me a note. We'd best return to the chamber, but we'll talk again soon."

  When they entered the room, the king moved away from her and was swallowed by the crowd. Damnation, I forgot to ask him about his marriage plans. Velvet re­joined the dowager. "Charles asked me to join the Court." She sighed deeply. "He is so very tall."

  "Velvet, you have stars in your eyes. Don't go falling in love with the king, darling."

  She laughed. "Too late. That happened when I was seven."

  "That was hero worship, not love, darling. I spy the Countess of Suffolk over there. Come and I'll intro­duce you." Christian pushed through the crowd. "Lady Suffolk, how lovely to see you. May I present Mistress Velvet Cavendish, Newcastle's daughter?"

  "So happy to meet you, my dear. This is my niece, Barbara Palmer, and of course you know Bucking­ham."

  Ready to stir shit to banish his boredom, George drawled, "I knew Mistress Cavendish when her name was Elizabeth."

  "You changed your name?" Lady Suffolk asked.

  "Yes, I did. Over the years there have been a dozen with the name Elizabeth Cavendish. There is only one Velvet."

  Barbara laughed. "A lady after my own heart. I am delighted to meet you, Velvet Cavendish—we red­heads must stick together."

  Christian scoffed, "I've never seen more dissimilar shades of hair in my life, though I concede you both have the wondrously translucent skin of redheads."

  "We compliment each other." Barbara wafted her fan. "My husband, Roger, and I are entertaining Friday evening at our house in King Street. I shall send you both invitations in hope that you will fit us into your busy schedule."

  Barbara's audacity appealed to Velvet, who was de­lighted to make a new friend. She spread her own fan. "Thank you. I shall look forward to it."

  When Velvet and Christian were out of earshot, Bar­bara turned to Buckingham. "She's maddeningly pretty and extremely young."

  "Actually, she's older than you are, Barbara."

  "Really? And she's still unwed?"

  "Betrothed to Greysteel Montgomery when she was a child, but she's lived in exile until recently."

  Barbara's inquisitive glance roamed over the crowd, searching for a glimpse of the tall, dark Mont­gomery, whom she'd met earlier. Finally, she spotted him and watched avidly as he encountered his be­trothed.

  When Velvet came face-to-face with Greysteel Montgomery, it was so totally unexpected, she gasped. Determined to crush down any sexual attraction she felt, she drew her lips back and hissed through her teeth, "How dare you? How dare you show your trai­torous face at the king's reception?"

  Montgomery's dark face turned hard. "King Charles is my friend, Velvet, just as he is yours."

  Her chin went up and she trembled with anger. "Then he must be in ignorance of your betrayal."

  "Velvet, you are drawing every eye. Don't cause a scene."

  Her eyes narrowed. "Hell and furies! Don't issue your orders to me, Montgomery. I promise you the king will remain in ignorance no longer. Then we shall see who causes a scene." She turned from him furi­ously and hurried away as if she could not bear to re­main in his presence a moment longer.

  Barbara smiled slyly. "I believe I shall invite the Earl of Eglinton for Friday's entertainment Perhaps we'll have fireworks."

  When Velvet found the dowager and the other Dev-onshires, they were conversing with a man in uniform. "Henry! I had no idea you were here in London," Vel­vet cried. She threw her arms about her brother, and then held him at arm's length so she could observe him from head to foot.

  "I returned with my regiment, commanded by the Duke of York. Technically, I'm still in the army until my official discharge. Once the king returns Welbeck to me, I'll go north immediately."

  The Earl of Devonshire clapped Henry on the back. "A man after my own heart. We can't wait to get back to Chatsworth and begin restoring it to its former glory."

  "You're fortunate that I made sure Chatsworth never left the family, William. I warrant it will take an order of Parliament before the king can return Welbeck to you, Henry."

  "Welbeck rightfully belongs to my brother, just as Nottingham and Bolsover Castles belong to Father!" Velvet protested.

  "I'm sure His Majesty will sort everything out, dar­ling. In the meanwhile, Henry, you are welcome at Bishopsgate anytime."

  "Thank you, Lady Cavendish. Ah, there's the Duke of York. I must have a word with him before petition­ers surround him once again. Excuse me, ladies— Devonshire."

  Velvet followed him with her eyes as he moved across the chamber to join the king's brother James. She was chagrined to see Montgomery standing be­side James. She bit her lip, desperately hoping they would not speak of her.

  Henry greeted James, and then shook Greysteel's hand. "Good to see you again, Montgomery. You man­aged to avoid marriage with the little devil's spawn all these years, but I doubt you'll manage it much longer, old man."

  "Especially now he's Earl of Eglinton," James de­clared.

  Montgomery grimaced good-naturedly. "I concede to the inevitable." If only my earldom could tempt her into marriage.

  Henry laughed. "I look forward to having you as my brother-in-law, Eglinton."

  I very much doubt that, Henry, once you learn that I am the new owner ofBolsover Castle!

  The following day, the Earl and Countess of New­castle arrived at Bishopsgate. They had sailed from Rotterdam on a ship that brought them all the way to the Port of London.

  Velvet was overjoyed to see her father again and had made up her mind to treat his wife, Margaret Lucas, with respect.

  The family celebrated their reunion at a lavish din­ner that Christian had arranged and it wasn't until al­most bedtime that Velvet had her father to herself for a few minutes.

  "I wish you had been here to see His Majesty's en­trance into London. It was spectacular and the people were delirious with happiness."

  "I shall be on the front row at his coronation, never fear. Whe
n I was sailing up the Thames and saw the smoke of London, it never looked more wondrous in my eyes."

  "When we were at Whitehall yesterday, Charles bade me send him a note the moment you arrived."

  "Ah, the dear boy likely has some great post of state in mind for me. I shall be torn between London and Nottingham, but know where my duty lies."

  "I saw Henry yesterday at Whitehall. He looks wonderful and cannot wait to return to Welbeck."

  "I shall see him soon. No doubt His Majesty will summon me to Whitehall immediately. Christian tells me you have been invited to join the Royal Court. I warrant you will be the most beautiful lady to grace Whitehall, Velvet."

  She kissed him. "It's a fairy tale!"

  Chapter 14

  “It's a nightmare!" King Charles threw down his pen and indicated the mountain of parchments, scrolls, property rolls and journals scattered across the long re­fectory table.

  The king, Chancellor Hyde, and Jermyn, Earl of Saint Albans, along with four clerks, were trying to sort out which properties had been confiscated from prominent Royalists and given by Cromwell to Parlia­mentarians. "I have every intention to restore the con­fiscated estates of those who remained loyal, but odds fish, it is easier said than done."

  Charles ran his fingers through his long black hair, now peppered with grey. "Sadly, properties that Roy­alists were forced to sell for taxes and other debts can­not be restored because there are simply too many of them."

  Chancellor Hyde nodded. "Estates that were confis­cated must be restored, but any who come forward with proof of purchase should be confirmed as owning the property."

  "Are we all agreed?" asked the king.

  “Aye, Your Majesty," the men chorused.

  Charles took up a paper and thrust it at Hyde. "Here's another nightmare! This list Monck gave me of men he deems worthy to serve on my Privy Council consists of forty Presbyterians and rebels and exactly two Royalists! Damnation, this poses difficulties. The general wields considerable power and I'm bound to have him on my council, but I won't have these other men under any circumstances. I'm afraid he is in for a disappointment."

  "I'll handle it, Your Majesty." Hyde took the list from him. "It is my political task to form the royal ad­ministration."

  "You're a born diplomat, Chancellor Hyde, and in­defatigable. Hold off giving Monck the bad news until I confirm him in his dukedom and gift him with a rich estate. I shall be eternally grateful to the general and intend to reward him generously."

  The king strode over to another table littered with maps and deeds, where Digby, Earl of Bristol, sat preparing a list of all the properties owned by the Crown. "How are your charts coming along, George?" He picked up a paper. "Are these all the properties owned by the Crown in and around London?"

  "Not all, Sire, but a good many of them."

  "Then let's see—this Albemarle estate is worth nine thousand pounds and has a palatial house. I propose that Monck be made Duke of Albemarle." Charles re­turned to his seat at the other table. "Prepare a warrant to that effect, Chancellor."

  "You asked me to remind you of Newcastle, Sire," Jermyn said.

  "Odds fish, yes! My old governor has arrived in London and I've summoned him to Whitehall tomor­row to thank him for his great sacrifices. The earl will now be made Duke of Newcastle and I can use one of his lesser titles to honor his son, Henry, and elevate him in the peerage. I thought Marquis of Mansfield would be suitable."

  "All their estates were confiscated," Hyde re­minded the king.

  "Yes, Nottingham, Bolsover, and Welbeck shall be restored to them immediately," Charles declared.

  Jermyn cleared his throat and rustled a parchment.

  "What is it, Henry?" Charles asked impatiently.

  "Strange, but this deed says Bolsover is owned by Eglinton."

  Charles looked at the deed. "God Almighty, more complications! Apparently, the castle was confiscated and given to a Parliamentarian, who in turn sold it to Eglinton. If his heir has proof of purchase, he's every right it be confirmed."

  "A contretemps," Edward Hyde murmured.

  "A nightmare!" Charles corrected. He went to the door and summoned his personal page, Will Chiffinch. "I want you to find Captain Montgomery, commander of my guard, and bring him to me."

  The page found Montgomery in the armory, where his guardsmen were being outfitted with new swords and scabbards. He asked his first lieutenant to take over and followed Will Chiffinch.

  Charles greeted him informally. "Greysteel, ques­tions have arisen about property holdings, which I hope you can answer."

  "If you refer to Bolsover Castle, Sire, I learned from my father's will that he purchased it for five thousand pounds from Cromwell's General Fleetwood."

  "So you have proof of purchase?"

  "I do, Sire."

  "This presents a dilemma. Newcastle is returned and I've summoned him to Whitehall tomorrow to honor him for his great sacrifices to the Stuart cause, and to restore his estates." The king stared pointedly from beneath dark brows. "It occurs to me that if you were wedded to Newcastle's daughter, as you solemnly pledged to do, Bolsover would be back in the Cavendish family and there would be no problem. Am I correct?"

  "Yes and no, Sire."

  Charles, who had always found Greysteel exceed­ingly forthright with him, realized that the personal matter would benefit from privacy. "Excuse us, gentle­men." He opened the door to a small antechamber and beckoned Montgomery inside.

  "Short of kidnapping the lady and forcing her to my will, I have done everything in my power to make Vel­vet my wife."

  "She refuses?" His brows drew together. "On what grounds?"

  "On the eve of our wedding she discovered I was acting as agent to Monck. Her loyalty to you, Sire, brands me as a dishonorable traitor in her eyes."

  "Odds fish, why haven't you disabused her of such nonsense?"

  "Primarily because it was true, but also because Vel­vet shouldn't need explanations. She should have put her trust in me as you did, Sire."

  Charles hooted with laughter. "You don't know much about women—God help you! Females will ride over us roughshod if we allow it. You are well aware that Velvet is a little minx. You must never again allow her to gain the upper hand." Charles clapped him on the back. "I will speak with the lady. Your bachelor days are over. You can be wed in Whitehall's chapel."

  Greysteel didn't want Velvet to marry him because she'd been ordered by the king, but realized he could hardly argue with his Sovereign. Instead, he bowed to the king's will.

  Velvet read the note bearing the Royal Stuart coat of arms that had just been delivered to her. She found her father in the Bishopsgate library and was vastly re­lieved that Margaret was not with him. "Father, I'm summoned to Whitehall tomorrow."

  "His Majesty wishes you to dine with us?" he asked.

  "It says nothing about dining. I'm summoned to an audience at eleven. Strange I should accompany you and not Margaret."

  "Nay, His Majesty wishes to honor me and is ex­tending the honor to my children. No doubt Henry also has been invited."

  "Please don't tell Margaret I'm to accompany you. I don't wish to antagonize her, Father."

  "Margaret and Christian have their plans all set for tomorrow. They are off to visit Her Majesty. Queen Henrietta Maria has taken up residence at St. James's Palace."

  Velvet shuddered involuntarily. The queen was a cold, dominant, devoutly religious woman, whom Vel­vet had avoided whenever she visited Minette at Saint-Germain. How lucky I am to be going to Whitehall instead!

  When the Earl of Newcastle arrived with his daugh­ter at Whitehall Palace, Prodgers, one of the king's gentlemen-ushers, greeted them. Shortly thereafter, the king himself appeared with his favorite spaniels in tow. Velvet smiled radiantly, dropped a curtsy and bent to pet the dogs.

  Charles embraced his old governor with warm af­fection. "Welcome home, William. None will ever stand higher in my esteem. On a personal level, you were like a father to me
. As well, the selfless sacrifices you made for the Stuarts were above and beyond duty's call and can never be fully repaid."

  "Your Majesty, my greatest honor is to serve you."

  "I have invited Henry to join us for a private lunch, but before we dine, William, I would appreciate your advice on some horses I'm considering for the royal stables. I value your equestrian knowledge above that of all other men."

  Newcastle beamed. "With the greatest pleasure, Sire."

  The king glanced at Velvet. "Mistress Cavendish, could I impose upon your kindness to take the dogs outside? The corridor beyond that door leads to the rose garden. I will join you momentarily."

  "Of course," she said breathlessly. Charles wants to see me alone! "Come along, boys." She opened the door and the dogs trotted after her.

  "William, I have a new bay I want you to see—huge fellow by the name of Rowley. One of the few mounts I own able to carry my weight effortlessly. Prodgers will show you where he's stabled. I just want a private word with your daughter, and then I shall hasten to catch up with you."

  The spaniels frolicked across the lawn in a game of nip and tumble. Velvet strolled along a bed of roses, cultivated for their intense color and heady fragrance. When Charles's tall figure emerged from the palace, her pulse began to race.

  He strode toward her with purpose and used the name she disliked. "Lady Elizabeth, when I invited you to join our Court, I took it you understood it would be as a married lady."

  "But, Charles—"

  "You may address me as Sire."

  Velvet gasped. She had forgotten he was a mercurial Gemini, ofttimes capable of great warmth and inti­macy, yet equally capable of turning icily formal. "Marriage is impossible, Sire."

  "Not impossible by any means. I understand that Lord Montgomery has proposed to you and you have willfully refused."

  "He betrayed you, Sire. Montgomery was an agent of Monck's. They corresponded secretly. You are har­boring a traitor!"

  "You know nothing of the matter, nor should you, since it was secret. Montgomery was my go-between with Monck. He risked his life a dozen times crossing the Channel over the last year."