"Mayhap I simply didn't want to deal with you. Is that what you want me to say?"

He leaned back against the wall and looked heavenward. "Of course not."

He heard her sigh. "Sometimes I don't think you know what you want, Christopher. Sometimes I think you blame me for making your life too complicated and try to find fault simply to drive me away. Good night, my lord."

He didn't stop her leaving, knew she wouldn't listen to him if he tried. Did he truly blame her for the twists and turns of his existence? But the fact remained that she had stayed away from court-from him-and surely he had a right to wonder why.

He straightened away from the wall. Whatever Rosalind felt about him, he had an obligation to keep her safe. He watched until she entered the ladies' quarters, and then turned back to his own bed. He was on duty in the king's privy chamber in less than three hours, and he needed to rest. With his shoulder still throbbing from the Vampire's blow, and his body wanting Rosalind, he doubted his wish for peaceful slumber would be granted.

Rosalind checked to see that Christopher had left and then paused in the doorway of the ladies-in-waiting quarters. She registered the all-too-familiar aroma of wolf. Elias Warner stepped out from the shadows of the stairwell and bowed to her. He carried a candle, which illuminated his gold doublet and matching hose and his perfect face.

"Good morning, my lady."

Rosalind allowed Elias to see the silver-tipped dagger she had in her hand. "Good morning, Elias. And what exactly are you doing in the ladies' quarters at this time of night?"

"Just visiting, my lady." His smile was full of satisfaction.

"Visiting whom?"

"The Lady Anne and I are quite well acquainted."

"Is that so?" Rosalind paused, surprised and slightly suspicious that Elias had been so open. "Then perhaps you might warn her that I intend to protect the king to the best of my ability."

Elias leaned against the doorframe. "Oh, don't worry, my lady. I've already done that."

"Do you intend to kill me, then?"

He considered her, his head to one side. She couldn't help but notice two puncture marks marring the whiteness of his throat. "I would prefer it if you just went home. Strangely enough, I would hate to have to kill you."

"I cannot go home. I have a duty to protect the king from the Vampire race, even if it means I die trying."

"I know that, my lady, and I'm sorry for it."

"Don't be." Rosalind sheathed her dagger. "Why are you so devoted to Lady Anne's success? What has she promised you in return?"

Elias's smile died. "You assume that my loyalty can only be bought?"

Rosalind answered his question with one of her own. "Are you suggesting that your emotions are involved?"

"I'm suggesting nothing." Elias bowed. "Go home, Lady Rosalind, and you may as well take Lord Christopher Ellis with you. You cannot win this time, and you would be foolish to even try."

"But I cannot leave. You know that. And it appears that Lord Christopher has his own alliance with the Boleyn family."

"You think he would choose the Boleyns over you?"

Rosalind opened her eyes wide. "I don't know. What do you think?"

Elias stared at her for a long moment, handed her his lit candle, and then disappeared. Rosalind let out her breath. Was it possible that Elias was in love with Anne Boleyn? Or did he simply expect to gain some advantage from that relationship? Was Anne feeding from him to shore up her Vampire powers? Anything was possible. She'd tried to make Elias think that Christopher's loyalties were in doubt, but she wasn't sure if he believed her.

She slowly climbed the stairs toward her allotted sleeping space. With her dear friend Margaret no longer at court, she would be sharing a bed with a stranger. She imagined opening the door and finding Christopher there instead, his smile inviting, his naked body on display . . .

That was unlikely to happen until he recovered from his annoyance with her. Why couldn't he just accept her word, and not try to ferret out things that were not of his concern? Her reasons for not returning to court were hardly sinister. What did he think she'd been doing? Bedding every man she'd met? That would be quite like him.

She pushed open the door to her small room and stared at the empty bed. It seemed that she was to sleep alone. With a grateful sigh, she stripped off her torn and bloodied boy's clothing and let it fall to the floor. Her cheek still stung and she gently touched the parallel claw marks. Perhaps she should send her apologies to Lady Anne and wait until her face healed before returning. But would Lady Anne assume she was hiding?

Rosalind blew out her candle. Christopher would never understand that she'd delayed her return because she was, frankly, a coward. She'd been too afraid to face him and give in to her desire for him. It had been easier to skulk at home and let Jasper do her work for her. And she'd been right to worry. A few days in Christopher's company and she was already panting with lust, which would never do.

Chapter 9.

Christopher bowed to King Henry and backed out of the royal bedchamber, George Boleyn at his side. They'd both been in attendance on the king as he dressed and readied himself for the day. The king seemed in fine spirits, his thoughts on the upcoming hunt and the beauty of the weather. There was no sign that the king had been turned yet, and for that Christopher was extremely grateful. He waited until the door shut before turning to his friend.

"Is something wrong, George? You have barely spoken a word to me all morning."

George jerked his head toward the gardens, and Christopher followed him out. Even though he'd known this confrontation would be coming, he still disliked provoking it.

It was peaceful in the gardens; the blackbirds were singing and a light breeze ruffled the treetops. In the distance Christopher could see the indistinct outline of the apple orchards. Had Rhys succeeded in getting rid of the bodies of the slain Vampires without being detected? Christopher swallowed hard. He always worried that one day he'd find a member of his mother's Vampire family at the other end of his sword and that he'd realize it too late.

"You have disappointed me, Christopher."

Christopher brought his attention back to George, who was glaring at him. "In what way?"

"Your alliance with that Druid."

"This alliance was hardly of my choosing. I was duped into fulfilling a prophecy, not only by the Druid gods but by my own uncle and the Vampire Council. And then the king betrothed us!"

"Yet you haven't broken off the betrothal."

Christopher forced himself to meet George's dark gaze. "Because my uncle decided that the connection was too useful. He expects me to give him the information I glean from Lady Rosalind."

"So you are playing a double game, then."

"I suppose I am." George didn't need to know that Christopher had no intention of telling his uncle anything at all. He rallied his forces to attack. "And what of you, George? I thought we were friends. Why didn't you tell me that you were a Vampire?"

"I wasn't one when we first met." George's expression darkened. "I did it for Anne. It is no one else's business, in any case, so why do you care? It's not as though we present a threat to you. Your family is allied to the Vampires."

"Which is why I thought you would have told me. Did you not think I would understand?"

"One cannot be too careful." George walked away a few paces, his hand resting on his sword hilt. In the sunlight, the blue silk of his embroidered doublet shimmered like lake water. "Last night you protected the Vampire slayer and killed some of our own."

"Would you have stood aside and watched them assault your betrothed?" Christopher held George's gaze. It was never wise to show fear to a Vampire, friend or not. "I had no choice."

"There is always a choice, Christopher."

"By all that is holy, they attacked us both. I had to fight or lose my head!"

George stopped pacing. "I've known you for years, and considered you my friend. But I can't allow you to interfere with Anne's plans."

"I understand."

"Then you will cease aiding the Vampire slayer?"

Christopher spread his hands wide. "I am simply trying to protect my own hide. Surely you can appreciate I am in a difficult position."

George scowled at Christopher. "How am I to know whether to treat you as a friend or as an enemy?"

Christopher bowed. "That is for you to decide. It would be easier if you and Anne set your sights lower and left the king alone."

George laughed and slapped Christopher on the back. "Anne is a very determined woman."

"What does she want, George? Really?"

"Power, my friend, power beyond your imagination. What else?"

"And you truly believe the Vampire Council will allow that? What if they are using you for their own ends?"

"They will not succeed, not if Anne and I are determined."

Christopher studied his old friend and wondered if he had ever known him at all. "I wish I had your confidence, George. In my experience, the Vampire Council will use anything and anybody to achieve their goals."

George turned back toward the palace and started walking again. "It is kind of you to try to warn me, but it makes no difference. I cannot turn back now, and neither can Anne. The king is within her grasp and nothing can stop us."

Conviction rang through George's words, and Christopher knew it was pointless to continue arguing. He could only hope George would consider his advice later and perhaps share some of Christopher's concerns with Anne.

"I cannot agree with you, George."

"Then we will be enemies?"

Christopher faced his friend. "I hope it doesn't come to that, but I can assure you, if your Vampire hordes try to kill me, or my betrothed, I will fight back."

George bowed. "I can respect you for that, even if I don't like it. But think on this, my friend: If the Vampire slayer dies, you would be a free man again. In fact, with your connivance, we could kill her for you."

Christopher almost smiled. He could no more stand back and allow Rosalind to be killed than he could stop breathing.

"I have no love for the Vampire Council and their machinations, George, so I will simply repeat what I said. Be careful."

George's smile made Christopher want to shiver. "Don't be so melodramatic. The Vampire Council is not invincible. You proved that when you had to help them dispose of that rogue Vampire last year."

"You know about that?" Christopher asked. "Then you should understand my reluctance to trust the Council at all."

George's smile died. "Don't worry about the Council. Worry about yourself, because we will not let you stand in our way."

George's bluntness made Christopher bristle, but he managed to bow and walk away. It seemed that they were indeed heading for a battle. The Boleyns were not afraid of him, or the Council, and Rosalind was definitely at risk. Christopher stared up at the red brick walls of the palace. Trying to keep everyone safe was proving harder than he anticipated.

But George seemed rather arrogant. Was that because he believed in the Vampire Council's invincibility, or because he and Anne had their own path to follow? Christopher stopped walking. He needed to find out exactly what George and Anne planned to do to the king and the kingdom.

At the very worst, he might have to ingratiate himself with his uncle again. He grimaced at the thought. The only other way to discover the plan was to convince one of the Boleyns that he was completely on their side.

He continued down the path. After his latest confrontation with George, he wasn't even sure it was possible, but perhaps he had planted the seeds. If George could be convinced that Christopher was more concerned about saving his own skin than about Rosalind or the Ellis family, perhaps he would reveal his true purpose.

Rosalind had suggested that he play both sides. He wondered how she would feel if he decided to take her at her word and confide in Anne. Christopher found himself smiling. Despite her outward lack of interest, he knew Rosalind wouldn't take kindly to him getting too close to any woman but her.

Ahead of him, George slowed down and veered away from the palace toward the archery court, where a group of Lady Anne's women had gathered. Christopher decided to follow. It would be a good excuse to seek out Rosalind and set her on her guard. Not that they'd parted on particularly good terms, but he was certain she would have forgiven him by now.

He reached the first group of women and spied Anne dressed in dark brown velvet and gold at the center. Elias Warner stood at her elbow and she was laughing up at George, who was whispering intently in her ear. Her gaze shifted to Christopher and her smile brightened.

"Ah, Kit! You are just in time to watch me take on your betrothed in an archery contest. We are the last two remaining archers. You will lay a wager on my winning, I hope."

Even as his heart sank, Christopher retained enough sense to bow. "You put me in a quandary, my lady. How could I choose between my two favorite women?"

Behind him, he heard a snort. He turned to find Rosalind dressed in a vibrant red gown and black hood. The rubies in the gold cross at her throat caught the sun like drops of blood. He swept her another bow. "My lady."

She ignored him and tended to her crossbow, testing the tautness of the hemp string with her gloved finger. A quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder made her look like a ferocious Amazon queen. Christopher had never seen her shoot before, but he suspected she was more than competent. Which was unfortunate, because he knew Anne considered herself an excellent shot.

He turned his back on Anne and leaned closer to Rosalind. "Did you plan this?"

She gave him an exasperated glance. "Of course not. I tried to withdraw gracefully and cede the victory to her, but she challenged me in front of everyone."

"Then take care."

"I intend to." She looked at him directly for the first time. "Will you wager on me or her?"

He smiled into her brown eyes. "You, of course. It would be unseemly to wager against my betrothed. But would you be interested in a private little side bet if you lose?"

Rosalind raised her eyebrows. "You expect me to forfeit something to you if I lose?"

He brought her gloved hand to his lips. "I expect nothing-and hope for everything."

"And what exactly is it you want from me?"

"If you lose?" He bit slowly down on her leather-encased thumb. "You, in my bed, naked and willing."

She smiled up at him. "Alas for you, I shall win."

"Of course, my love. Everyone knows that the Welsh are the best archers in the kingdom."

Rosalind released her hand from Christopher's firm grip and turned away. She pretended to test her bow and willed herself to stop blushing. When he looked at her like that, it was almost impossible to deny her attraction to him. His voice alone seemed designed to turn her into a quivering pool of mindless need.

"Are you ready, Lady Rosalind?" Anne Boleyn's imperious tones cut through Rosalind's bemusement.

"Yes, my lady." Rosalind turned her attention to the two large straw targets that were situated about a quarter of a furlong from where they stood. She made her way through the watching courtiers and retrieved an arrow from her quiver. Just seeing the arrow helped steady her nerves. Rhys had made it for her from supple ash wood and it was topped with soft gray feathered fletches. Christopher moved up alongside her, his keen gaze fixed on the target.

"The wind is blowing from the northeast."