Chapter 21: The Dowager's Wager

Maud read the half-finished letter twice, standing in the corridor outside my lodging.

Then she folded it small and put it in her sleeve.

"Well," she said. "That is my best hand. I am rather flattered."

"Maud, they mean to have you beg the king for mercy in your own writing."

"Then I shall do it in person, and see how they like it."

She put on her good black silk and her pearls.

She took her cane and the pack of cards she kept in her reticule for emergencies.

"Linnet, give me your arm."

"Where are we going?"

"To see a man I have been beating at piquet since I was sixteen."

The king's private room was at the top of a narrow stair.

It was small and warm, with a fire and a card table.

The king sat by it in a dressing gown, with a glass of brandy and a sulky face.

A footman had let us in and fled.

"Maud Stannard," said the king. "Nine people have asked me for things today."

"You are the first who has not."

"I am about to."

"I thought you might."

"Sit down and let me look at you. You have got fat."

"I am the king, madam."

"You are still fat." She lowered herself into the other chair. "Will you play?"

He looked at her for a moment, and then he laughed.

It was the first time I had heard him do it.

"What do you wager, you old pirate?"

"Wexmoor," said Maud. "The dower lands, the house in the capital and the Stannard pearls."

"All of it to the crown, if you lose."

I nearly spoke.

Her cane came down on my foot without looking.

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