Helen Dickson - Reunited At The King's Court

‘What’s a lovely girl like you doin’ out on her own? Lookin’ for company, love?’

‘Let go of me,’ she demanded coldly, trying to pull away from him as his heavy body weaved in front of her. ‘You’re drunk.’

‘The whole of London’s drunk today. Come now, have a drink with me—and afterwards, well, we’ll see.’

‘You’re disgusting. Let me pass.’

‘Not so fast, little lady,’ he growled as she tried to push past him.

‘I believe you’re bothering the lady,’ a dry voice said.

It came from behind Arlette. A strong hand grasped her arm and pulled her away. William Latham stood between her and her assailant, tall and absolutely nonchalant. The youth flushed, glaring at the intruder. William Latham stood in a lazy slouch, his arms by his sides. There was nothing intimidating in his manner, but the youth hesitated just the same, clearly uneasy.

‘This is none of your affair,’ he grumbled belligerently.

‘I’m making it my affair,’ William drawled. ‘Now on your way before I make you regret bothering the young lady.’

His voice was lethargic, totally devoid of menace, yet the youth turned pale. Stumbling back a step and almost falling, he muttered something unintelligible and then turned and went on his way as fast as his wobbly legs would allow, disappearing into the crowd.

‘Thank you,’ Arlette uttered. ‘He was drunk.’

‘And I appeared just in time.’

‘I’m happy to see you have survived the troubles,’ she breathed, her eyes shining with happiness as they looked into his.

He caught hold of her arm and drew her into the recess of the shop doorway. At the same moment their gazes met and Arlette’s heart gave an unexpected flutter. She couldn’t believe he was here. William did not move. His repressed admiration was almost tangible in his stillness. His eyes burned into hers. His hand holding her arm seemed to pulsate with life, sending shock waves through Arlette. Her lips parted and she moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue.

An inexplicable, lazy smile swept over his face as he looked at her and held out his hand. ‘Enchanté, mademoiselle,’ he said quietly.

Arlette had the impression that he actually liked what he saw. Automatically she gave him her hand, thinking he would simply take it in his, but he covered it with both of his and kept it. His eyes were warm with admiration as they looked straight into hers.

‘Arlette! I cannot believe it is you—here.’ Raising her hand, he pressed his lips to her fingers.

She slanted him a smile. ‘Do you make a habit of kissing the hand of every lady you meet?’

William laughed. ‘The devil I don’t. Only those I like.’

‘I did not think you would recognise me.’

‘You have grown up and you are right. I hardly recognised you. What are you doing here?’

They smiled at each other and happiness rose in Arlette’s chest. ‘Don’t look so surprised. You did bring me to London so where else would I be?’

‘Back at Mayfield Hall.’

She shook her head, her eyes clouding with sadness. ‘No. Father died soon after we left and as far as we know, Thomas is still on Barbados—at least that is what we think. Nothing has been heard of him since he was taken prisoner. I am anxious about him. I hate to think some ill has befallen him.’

William frowned. ‘I understand your concern. I, too, expected some news of him before now.’

‘The house and estate have been confiscated. Hopefully things will change now the monarchy has been restored.’

‘Every Royalist has the same hopes.’ He fell silent, looking at her as if he could not get enough of her. ‘You look well, Arlette, so grown up and élégante. Life and London obviously agrees with you.’

‘I’m glad you think so and I like London very well,’ she admitted awkwardly, withdrawing her hand, annoyed with her attack of nervousness. ‘Although when I came here I found it all so confusing at first.’

‘And you became settled with your sister and her husband.’

‘Yes, but I missed my father and my home terribly.’

‘And have they prospered under the yoke of Cromwell?’

‘There were times when things were difficult. When war broke out Richard turned a healthy profit in the wool trade—all those woollen uniforms—but after Worcester everything changed, for everyone, not just Richard. In the beginning I found it strange living in such a strict household—although now I don’t hold a candle for either party as long as there is some form of normality and no more wars. Whatever Richard’s true feelings his business and his home have survived intact and unmolested, although money is in short supply at present.’ Her lips twisted with irony. ‘My brother-in-law has double standards. He trims his cloth to the wind. After the death of Cromwell and thinking the King might be restored, he has become more tolerant in his dealings. Parliament man he may be, but he will not be averse to selling silks and velvets to Royalists in the name of business.’

‘A wise man knows where his allegiances lie in times like these.’

‘That may be so, but Richard is still of the opinion that all pleasures such as music and dancing are the work of the devil.’

‘Let us hope that now the King has come home we will see better times.’

His voice was gentle. It was smooth and deep and wrapped itself winningly around his words and his powerful charm and manner radiated a rapier-sharp intelligence. Arlette was mesmerised. Lithe, tall and extremely handsome, she had no doubt there were plenty of ladies who would find him attractive. There was a vigorous purposefulness about him that bespoke impatience and an active life. With his lively eyes and quick smile, his face demanded attention and respect. The young William Latham she had once known with the boyish good looks had become a man. He presented a dazzling figure, yet there were harsh lines on his face and a tension in his manner that suggested some kind of struggle unrelieved by his return to England. His gaze scanned her face and swept down her body. Self-consciously she ran her hands down her skirts and tried to restore her wayward golden hair to some order. Confused and strangely vulnerable, she averted her eyes.

‘I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a disadvantage. I’m not normally so dishevelled.’

He glanced down at his own clothes, travel-stained and creased from being so long on the road. ‘And neither am I. Having been on the road since early morning, I am somewhat discomposed myself.’

‘Is this the first time you have been back to England since you went to France?’

‘It is. Nine long years—it seems like a lifetime. I wasn’t alone. It wasn’t what any of us would have chosen—we had no choice.’

‘And what did you do for nine years, William? Did you spend all your time in Paris, enjoying all the gaieties that city has to offer?’

He laughed. ‘No, far from it. When I arrived there it didn’t take long before boredom set in. Along with many others who were not prepared to see out their exile in idleness, I went to the Low Countries with the King, who founded a regiment of guards under the command of his brother, the Duke of York. We went into service under the Spanish flag.’

‘So your fighting did not cease when you left England,’ she said, curious to know more about those missing years in William’s life and wondering what he had got up to when he left for France. She had the feeling that the adventure he had embarked upon was not all he hoped it would be.

‘No. The regiment saw much service and too many deaths. Too many. It’s not always easy to be a soldier and a survivor. I may still be alive, but I have lost all that is important to me. My mother passed away and my sister married a Frenchman.’