Page 89 of A Prince Among Pirates
No matter what kind of man Henry is, I will be forever grateful for the gift of someone like Thomas as my valet and companion.
The drawing room of my father’s private apartments is warm, with a fire in the hearth and a feast laid out for us as I find myself alone with him for only the second time since my return. I take a fortifying breath before joining King Henry at the small dining table the servants have arranged for us in front of the fireplace.
“Thomas is working out for you, then?” he asks after swallowing the bite of roasted pheasant he took.
“He is,” I say, cutting into my own helping. “Thank you for him. He’s a wonder. I couldn’t function without him.”
Henry laughs. “That I believe,” he teases as he lifts a brass chalice to sip from it.
I lift my own chalice and peer into it as the heady scent of clove and cinnamon wafts into my nostrils. I blow away the steam, then take an experimental sip. Hot mulled wine—it’s delicious.
“Father,” I say experimentally as I set the chalice down.
Henry freezes and looks up at me. I think at first I have madean error, but as my mind scrambles for a way out, I see a smile broaden his face. “Yes?” he asks, his voice quiet.
I clear my throat and blow out a low puff of air. “I… had hoped to speak more of my mother.”
“I thought you might,” Henry says. “I fear I won’t have a great deal to tell you. I knew her barely a year, and most of that time she was married to the viscount and living in Falmouth.”
I was afraid of that, but I nod. “She was a follower of Islam, was she not?” I ask.
Henry pushes out his lips as he considers that. “I imagine she would have been, yes.”
I’m surprised by that answer. If he loved her so much, would he notknow?
“Did she not convert to marry my fa—the viscount?”
“Ah, yes. We had a small ceremony to christen her beforehand, so you could be christened yourself.”
“And she was willing?”
Henry chuckles at that. “What an odd question, Christopher-Henry.”
I blink at him.Isit an odd question? Is it not obvious? “Forgive me… I just don’t know much about Islam… or about her.”
He waves a hand and takes another bite of pheasant. “She wanted what was best for you,” he says. “She loved you very much.”
I smile at the thought of that. “Did she?” I ask. “I wish I could have known her.”
“I still have some of her things,” Henry says, speaking overme. “The viscount sent them to me after your birth. They’re in storage somewhere.”
My eyes widen. “May I have them?”
“I don’t see why not. I’ll have the servants dig them up.”
“Is there a way for us to be in touch with her family?” I ask. “I would love to—”
“Afraid not,” he interrupts. “Her father didn’t approve of the marriage. He left with her sister, and we never heard from them again. It’s best not to dwell on that, Christopher-Henry. They are a… rather uncivilized people.”
I frown at that, thinking back to the kindness of the man in the marketplace when he taught me to smoke his pipe and called me the son of his sister. “I don’t think—”
“In any case, I’m sure they’ve long forgotten about the whole ordeal. That was nearly two decades ago.”
I blink at him. He can’t possibly think people simply stop caring about their loved ones because theydisagreewith one another. I’m alarmed by this callous way of thinking and annoyed that he keeps speaking over me. “I’d just like to—”
“Eat up,” he says, interrupting me again before I can finish my sentence. “Enjoy the food while it’s hot.”
“Yes, Father,” I mumble, seeing I am getting nowhere. I take a bite and watch him through my lashes. When I am sure his mouth is too full for him to speak, I try one more time. “That envelope with my name on it. What was in it?”
