The Red Queen

'Remember? I cannot forget. I have a constant reminder. I see you and your loveliness day after day. It breaks my heart to see you so close and yet untouchable -- by me.' He reached toward her and she backed away.

'Be ware, sirrah, lest you overreach yourself.'

'Would you think I overreach myself if I say what is in my heart? That I am a man and you are a woman?'

'A married man and a married woman .. and more ... an honorable knight and a Queen.'

He knelt in front of her. 'A Queen, yes ... the Queen of my heart who makes my knighthood of naught to me when it comes to love.'

'Jamie Butler, were I not familiar with your eternal flattery, I would warn you that you come close to treason against your King.'

'The only treason would be if I betrayed the growing love I have for you. I did think you returned it, that I read it in your eyes. Did I mistake you? I thought you showed some affection for me when we rode side by side so many miles together.'

'If you thought I had more affection for you than any other of my friends then you did mistake me.'

Margaret was flustered. Had she unwittingly given him cause to think she regarded him as anything more than a friend? And what if he truly loved her? She looked at him -- so handsome, so bold and forceful ... if only Henry had some of Butler's qualities ...it would be so easy to melt into this man's strong arms ...

She was upset that her body was betraying her. She defended herself, 'If you thought you saw anything more than friendship in my eyes you were mistaken.'

He rose and pulled her to him, his lips upon her golden hair. 'Oh, Margaret, I'm talking life -- the life you owe yourself. I've seen some of the light go from your eyes. I've seen worry replace your laughter. I want to re-awaken that love of life you had when you came to England. Margaret, you need to live!'

For a moment, she stood trembling within his arms, her body hungry. No, no, no. This was not what she wanted. She was the Queen; she could not be weak. She whispered, 'It cannot be.' Then, in a firmer voice, 'Henry is my wedded lord.'

'A fine husband for a passionate woman!'

At his scornful tone, Margaret pulled away, 'Be that as it may, he is my dear lord and I am his alone. I swore it. And were it not for the love I bear your wife, you would rue this day. For her sake, I shall put your rash words from my mind.'

He made a mock bow and smiled. 'Pray, do not do that. Rather let the memory of my love keep you company when the King forsakes your bed for his chapel.'

Margaret was about to make a sharp rejoinder when she caught sight of two of her ladies standing in the doorway. How long had they been there she wondered as she abruptly dismissed the Earl who went off whistling.