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‘So you don’t see it as an honour to be the King’s mistress? Many women would.’

‘His Majesty has a new wife,’ Ginny said, ‘of whom I am fond, sir. I would be shamed, not honoured. You, apparently, see things differently. You stand to gain.’

Sir Jon’s reply was not quite what she’d expected. ‘Believe it or not, mistress, I am not as eager as you seem to think to propel you with all haste into the King’s bed. I can manage without his rewards. So tell me,’ he continued, ‘is there someone else?’

Here was the perfect opportunity, Ginny thought, to invent some mysterious and handsome lover to whom she had given her heart, to show Sir Jon she could play the dalliance game as well as he. But for the life of her she could not do it, and the chance slipped away before she could make the slightest dent in his arrogance.

‘No,’ she whispered, looking at the gold aglets on his sleeve. ‘There’s no one.’

He lifted her chin to make her eyes meet his. But the shadows were deep and there was little for him to recognise except the blaze of hostility of which he already knew.

Betrayed, Betrothed and Bedded

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