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A dangerous mission at Queen Elizabeth's bidding is Celia Sutton's chance to erase the taint of her brother's treason. Her life is at risk if she's discovered—and so is her heart when she learns her co-conspirator is also her onetime seducer: brooding and mysterious John Brandon!
John can't believe the change in Celia—what's happened to the carefree English rose she once was? Leaving Celia was the only thing to do, but now guilt tears at his soul.
He has to heal the sadness in her past, and he's not above using anything—from expert seduction to royal favors—to achieve his goal.
- Sales Rank: #1456249 in eBooks
- Published on: 2012-10-01
- Released on: 2012-10-01
- Format: Kindle eBook
From Booklist
Finally free from an unwanted marriage with a man who made her miserable, Celia Sutton arrives at court to petition Queen Elizabeth to grant her title to a family estate. Unfortunately, the estate has already been willed to a distant relative of Celia’s, but Elizabeth does have a counterproposal. Celia will travel to Scotland, take up her post as lady-in-waiting to Queen Mary, and report back on the success of Elizabeth’s plan to match up her cousin Mary with Lord Darnley. Once Celia’s mission is completed, Elizabeth will arrange a suitable marriage for her back in England. The only problem is that Celia must travel to Scotland with John Brandon, the very same rogue whose seduction and abandonment of Celia forced her into her ill-fated marriage. What’s even worse is John’s intent to resume their romance. In her latest lusciously sensual romance, RITA Award–winning McCabe mixes and matches historical and fictional characters with exceptional aplomb, and her bold, vividly detailed writing perfectly captures the flavor and feel of the rival queens’ courts. --John Charles
About the Author
Amanda McCabe wrote her first romance at sixteen – a vast historical epic starring all her friends as the characters, written secretly during algebra class! She's never since used algebra, but her books have been nominated for many awards, including the RITA Award, Booksellers Best, National Readers Choice Award and the Holt Medallion. In her spare time she loves taking dance classes and collecting travel souvenirs. Amanda lives in Oklahoma. Email her at: amanda@ammandamccabe.com
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Whitehall Palace, December 1564
It was him.
Suddenly dizzy, Celia Sutton reached out to steady herself against the panelled wall of Queen Elizabeth's presence chamber. The thick crowd had pressed in around her again, obscuring her view with a sea of jewelled velvet and embroidered satin. The nervous laughter and high-pitched chatter as they waited anxiously to petition the Queen sounded like a flock of birds in her ears, buzzing and formless.
She rubbed her hand over her eyes and looked again, standing on tiptoe to try and peer over the crowd. She could no longer see him. Not even that tiny glimpse of his tall figure by the door. The flash of his careless grin. He was gone.
Or maybe he had never been there at all. Maybe it had just been her imagination playing tricks on her. She had not been sleeping well—had spent too many late nights here at Queen Elizabeth's Christmas revels. She had too many worries, and it was wearing on her. That was all.
And yet—he had looked so real.
"It was not him," she whispered. John Brandon was gone. She had not seen him for over three years—three very long, hard years—and she would never see him again. What was more, she did not want to see him. It would only remind her of the foolish girl she'd once been, of her old weakness for his handsome face, and right now she needed all her strength.
She pushed herself away from the wall and took a deep breath, trying to stand perfectly still, to keep herself calm. The Queen would call for her soon, and she had to have all her wits about her when they met. Her entire life depended on it. She should look only to the future now, not to the past. Not to John Brandon.
But still that fleeting image lingered in her mind, that glimpse of his lean, muscled figure through the crowd and the pounding of her heart at the sight. Despite the roaring fire in the stone grates, the close press of the crowd, and her own fur-trimmed black and purple velvet gown, she shivered.
All around her were desperate faces—people who saw their last chance in catching the Queen's attention. Did she look like them? She feared it was so. What would John say if he could see her now? Would he even recognise her?
The door to the Queen's privy chamber opened and everyone's attention turned towards it in the hope their name would now be called. Hope sank down again when they saw it was only Anton Gustavson and Lord Langley, the last parties to be called to consult with Queen Elizabeth. The nervous chatter fluttered anew.
Celia froze when her gaze met Anton's. He was her long-lost Swedish cousin, recently arrived in England to lay his claim to their grandfather's estate at Briony Manor. That estate was Celia's last hope for a comfortable, independent life in which she did not have to answer to the whims of a cruel man any longer. But as she had watched Anton charm the Queen, and every other lady at Court, her hopes had slipped away. He would have the estate, and she would be thrown back to the dubious mercy of her late husband's family.
Anton gave her a wary nod, and she curtsied in answer. He was the only family she had left, yet she did not know him and could not trust him. That was one of the hard lessons John Brandon had once taught her—never to trust in appearances or emotions. Always to be cautious.
Anton's latest flirtation, the beautiful golden-blonde Rosamund Ramsay, came to his side and gently touched his arm. He smiled down at her, and they gazed into each other's eyes as if the crowded chamber, the whole world, had vanished but for the two of them.
A cold sadness washed over Celia at the sight. She had once looked at John like that, sure that he felt that incandescent connection too. But it had been false in the end.
She turned away from the sight of Anton and Rosamund and pretended to study the tapestry on the wall. But the vivid greens and reds of the silken threads blurred in her vision, and she saw only that long-ago summer day. The sun so bright and warm in a cloudless azure sky, the cool shadows under the ancient oak tree where she'd waited for him. Imagining his kisses, the embrace of his strong body…
But he had not come, even after he'd hinted at a future with her. The warm sun had melted away and there had been only the shadows.
It was not him, she told herself fiercely. He was not here. Not now.
The door swung open again, and this time it was the Queen's majordomo. A tense hush fell over the crowd.
Celia turned around to face him, wiping fiercely at her eyes. She hadn't cried in three years. She could not start now.
"Mistress Celia Sutton, Her Grace will see you now," the man announced.
Bitterly envious looks spun towards Celia, but she ignored them and slowly made her way forward. This was her chance. She couldn't let the memory of John Brandon distract her for even an instant. He had taken too much from her already.
Just inside the door a small looking glass hung on the wall, and she glimpsed her reflection there—the black cap on her smooth, tightly pinned dark hair, the high fur collar of her gown, the jet earrings in her ears. In mourning for a husband she could not truly mourn.
Her face looked chalk-white with worry, just like everyone else's in that room outside, but red streaked her cheekbones as if in memory of that long-ago summer's day. Her grey eyes glowed with unshed tears.
She forced them away, clasping her hands tightly before her waist as she followed the majordomo into the inner sanctum of the privy chamber. It was also crowded there, but the atmosphere was lighter, the conversation free of the strained quality outside. Ladies-in-waiting in their pale silks sat on cushions and low stools scattered over the floor and around the marble fireplace, whispering and laughing over their embroidery. Handsome young courtiers played cards in the corner, casting flirtatious glances at the ladies.
But the Queen's most favourite of all, Robert Dudley, was nowhere to be seen. Everyone said that after the alarming events of the Christmas season, the attempts on the Queen's life, he worked day and night to ensure the security of the palace. Nor was the Queen's chief secretary, Lord Burghley, who so rarely left her side, in evidence.
Queen Elizabeth sat by herself next to the window, a table covered with the scrolls of petitions beside her. The pale grey sunlight filtered through the thick glass, turning her red-gold hair into a fiery halo and making her fair ivory skin glow. She wore a splendourous robe of crimson velvet trimmed with white fur over a gold silk gown, rubies on her fingers and in her ears, and a band of pearls holding back her hair.
She looked every inch the young Sun Queen, but her dark eyes were shadowed and the set of her mouth was grim, as if the events of the last few days had taken their toll on her.
Celia had heard that those strange occurrences were not the Queen's only worries. Parties from Austria and Sweden were at Whitehall to press their marriage suits. Spain and France were constant threats. And the Queen's cousin to the north, Mary Queen of Scots, was always a thorn in Elizabeth's side.
It was almost enough to make Celia feel her own troubles were tiny in comparison! No one was trying to kill her or marry her.
"Mistress Sutton," Queen Elizabeth said. "You have had a long wait, I fear."
Celia curtsied low and made her way to the Queen's desk. Elizabeth tapped her long pale fingers on the papers, her rings sparkling. "I'm just grateful Your Grace has the time to meet with me."
Elizabeth waved her words away. "You may not be so grateful when you hear what I have to say, Mistress Sutton. Please sit."
A footman leaped forward with a stool, and Celia sank onto it gratefully. She had a terrible feeling this interview would not go as she so fervently wished. "Bri-ony Manor, Your Grace?"
"Aye." Elizabeth held up a scroll. "It seems clear to us that your grandfather's wish was for the estate to go to Master Gustavson's mother and then to him. We feel we cannot go against this."
Celia felt that chill wash over her again—the cold of disappointment, of an anger she had to suppress. If she could not go to Briony, where could she go? What would be her home? "Yes, Your Grace."
"I am sorry," Elizabeth said, and there was a tinge of true regret in her voice. She even used "I" instead of the official "we". "When I was a girl, I had no true place of my own. No place where I could be assured of my own security. Everything I had was dependent on others—my father, my brother, my sister. Even my life depended on their whims."
Celia glanced at the Queen in surprise. Elizabeth so seldom spoke of the difficult past. Why would she now, and to Celia of all people? "Your Grace?"
"I know how you must feel, Mistress Sutton. We are alike in some ways, I think. And that is why I sense that I can ask a great favour of you."
Ask? Or demand? "I will do anything I can to serve Your Grace, of course."
Elizabeth tapped at the papers again. "You have heard the recent rumours surrounding my cousin Queen Mary, I am sure. She always seems of such acute interest to my courtiers."
"I—well, aye, Your Grace. I sometimes hear tales of Queen Mary. Is there a specific rumour you refer to?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, yes, there are many. But I refer to the fact that she intends to marry again. They say she has hopes of a union equal to her first with the King of France. I hear she has her sights set on Don Carlos of Spain—King Phillip's son."
"I have heard such rumours as well, Your Grace," Celia said. She had also heard Don Carlos was a violent lunatic, but even a reputed great beauty like Queen Mary seemed willing to overlook that for the chance to be Queen of Spain.
Elizabeth suddenly slammed her fist down on the desk, send...
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Hot Elizabethan Times
By Danielle Deininger
I loved The Winter Queen By McCabe but Cecila's story is even better.there is alot of hot steamy scenes in this edtion of The Tudor Queens series. The scenery is great and the characters are well written.I cant wait for the next one in ther series!
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