Slow Burn (Properly Spanked Legacy #4) Read Online Annabel Joseph

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Properly Spanked Legacy Series by Annabel Joseph
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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The king’s hands were sweaty and slack, and barely fit within hers. She pretended to go into a trance, feeling his gaze fixed hard upon her even though her eyes were closed.

“Are you speaking to her now?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’m trying.”

“Does she know I’m here?”

“Those who have passed to the other side always know. Please, let me listen.”

“And speak! You must tell her—”

“I already have.”

Elizabeth only pretended to commune with the late princess, but in truth she could feel many things. The king’s anguish, the empty place in his heart where his healthy daughter and grandson would have been. After a few more moments of quiet, she spoke from her “trance.”

“Your daughter says you needn’t apologize. She says her passing was sudden, but not painful.”

“Indeed! It was sudden!”

“She says there is nothing to forgive, that you did your best with all the responsibilities thrust upon you after your father died. Even before he died.”

“Yes. My father was mad, you know. Mad as hornets. It was up to me to do everything.” He made a grieving sound. “I have tried.”

“She says you must not feel lonely.” She pretended to speak Princess Charlotte’s thoughts, but they were hers, meant to comfort the addled regent. “And that you must not blame yourself for what happened. Sometimes people leave before we wish it, but she promises she’s with you, always part of you.”

“Oh!” The king began to cry again, heartrending tears. “That is why I saw her that once. Why I feel her near. It’s so hard not to feel sadness, not to feel regret.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked up at August as the king mopped at his tears. He gave her a sympathetic nod. This was not a typical royal audience. As the king’s sobs increased in intensity, she stood from her seat and offered the monarch an embrace.

It was not court protocol, but he didn’t seem to mind. He locked his arms around her middle and sobbed into her chest, releasing grief and guilt which had festered too long within him. After several minutes of weeping, he lifted his face and seemed to gather himself.

“Do you know, I half believed you couldn’t do it, that the gossip wasn’t true. But you are miraculously talented, Lady Augustine. You have made me feel so much better. It may not seem so now, but I am much better. I am only overwhelmed.”

“It is a natural reaction. But I fear…” She tried to breathe within his vise-like grip. “I fear I must beg leave of you soon. Communing with the other side is an exhausting endeavor.”

“My dear, I can only imagine.” He finally released her. “Thank you for your efforts. I will not forget.”

“Nor will I forget your daughter’s loving spirit. Goodness, though, I shall need to rest for hours. If I may ask a favor…” She blinked at him, trying to elicit his pity, if not his sympathy. “I must entreat Your Majesty not to tell anyone what I’ve done for you here today. In fact, if anyone speaks in court about my talents or abilities, it would help me greatly if you’d deny they exist.”

“Deny they exist?” He blinked at her. “When you’ve shown such amazing powers of divination?”

“I beg you, as a loyal subject. Such sessions are so draining for me, so debilitating that it may endanger my life if too many others request my assistance. Please, Your Majesty, let it be our secret. Yours and mine.”

“Oh, I see.” He gazed upon her with fatherly concern. “We must not endanger such a great lady. I will do as you ask. It is best we reserve the use of these intensive powers only for me.”

“Certainly. But not too often. Perhaps twice a year.” She sat heavily in the chair. “I wish I could manage more, but even now, I shall need to sleep for a week to recover.”

“I pray, then, you have a comfortable bed, and that your husband shall not trouble you when you need your rest.” In one of his trademark mood swings, his concern changed back to irritation. “You will still spank her?” he said to August.

“I’ve sworn upon my honor,” he assured him, as Elizabeth turned away to roll her eyes.

“Here!” he said, beckoning a footman. “I shall send you home with a stout piece of ginger to help gentle this spirited filly of yours.” He winked a rheumy eye. “I’m certain you’ll know what to do with it.”

Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. The nerve of him—

“Thank you so much, Your Majesty. Indeed, I’ll know how to use it,” said August. “Now, though, I must take my wife home to recuperate.”

“Of course.” The king took Elizabeth’s now-limp hand and squeezed it. “And I promise I shall herewith deny to any lord or courtier that you have any powers whatsoever, my lady. Why, such gossip has gotten out of hand,” he added with a wink.


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