Two Princes

Chapter 8

Isabella headed for the Lady Helene's quarters in the East Wing of the Palace, her red silk skirts swishing against her legs, her glossy dark curls bouncing out of the intricate top knot on her head, one of the footmen following her, no doubt sent to make sure she didn't steal anything. She may have been a courtier for many years now, but she could never shake the feeling of being an outsider and not entirely trusted. But she only had herself to blame for that and she had worked very hard to erase memories. She suspected she had not been entirely successful. That was why the Queen's request had been so surprising. That she would trust her with the education of her precious son's fiancee? That was most unexpected and a little puzzling. Then to be asked to tutor the Lady Helene in the art of seduction ... well, that was more than a little ironic, considering her past.

She could feel the footman's eyes on her as she swayed along the corridor. Her fiftieth birthday may have come and gone a few months ago, but she was still capable of gaining the attention of handsome young men. This particular footman, who was tall and blonde and extremely pretty, had been in her bed just a fortnight ago. She sighed as she remembered how firm his muscular young arse was and how many times he had managed to perform in one night. It had been quite miraculous.

She passed the great hall and then the portrait gallery and finally reached the East Wing, a little out of breath now. She may still have sexual allure, but she was definitely not as young as she once was, and not as fit. Stopping outside a polished walnut door she waited for the footman to knock upon it and announce her.

"Madam Broussard to see the Lady Helene," he said to the maid who opened the door. She blushed prettily at the sound of the smooth deep voice, and no doubt the dimples that Isabella could not see right now, but knew appeared when the footman was being charming.

"Come in Madame," the maid said, looking Isabella up and down with a skeptical raise of an eyebrow.

The little chit! Isabella swept past her giving her a haughty scowl and found herself in a pleasantly sunny room decorated in shades of peach.

The Lady Helene was seated on a little couch, an embroidery frame in her hand. She placed it carefully down beside her and elegantly stood up. "Madame. How do you do?"

"Very well my child, very well indeed and it is a pleasure to meet you," Isabella said warmly. There was something about Helene that had instantly brought out her maternal side, a side of her that wasn't usually at the forefront.

Helene looked nervous. Her cheeks were pale. "Do be seated," she said in a quiet little voice, and noticing her maid was still in the room, she said, "You are dismissed Janet. You will not be needed until I dress for dinner." And Janet quickly left, no doubt hoping the handsome footman was still outside.

"Well now," Isabella said breezily as she sat down beside Helene. "I believe the Queen has divulged her concerns to you and you know why I'm here."

"Yes," Helene said and looked down at her hands. "I'm concerned that you will find me a very reluctant student. I do not think I am capable of ... seduction."

"Every woman is capable of seduction. Especially when they are as beautiful as you," Isabella said, taking a gentle hold of her chin and examining her face. "You have the most exquisite skin and a delicate bone structure, not to mention that glorious hair. I think that men must wonder what you look like naked."

Helene gave a shocked little gasp. "But I am too thin and ..." she looked down at her chest and across at Isabella's voluptuous décolletage, "... lacking."

"Some men like their women to be petite and delicate. It makes them feel more of a man."

"And do you think Nikolai feels that way?"