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You will join the other maids immediately! The king is boarding--" It was the keeper of the maids, Madame Dragon, Alice called her.


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Alice and Renee ran across the deck to join the elite circle of young women around the princess, all in satin gowns, in dainty shoes with stiff gauze bows, their hair coaxed by servants into curling orderly disorder, fat strands of pearls around their slender necks, drops at their delectable ears.

As young women, unmarried, their very youth was beautiful. As part of the household of the foremost princess in France, they were everything that was fashionable. There wasn't a woman on shore who wouldn't be biting her lip with vexation and determining to buy new gowns once theirs were seen.

They couldn't wait. Princesse Henriette--her formal title at the French court was Madame--glanced toward Alice and Renee as they slipped in among the other women, a slight arch in her brow, both questioning and condemning. In another moment he had leaped to the deck. Men had followed him over the side, appearing one after the other, dressed almost as sumptuously as any woman, laces, blue ribbons, diamond pins, long, curling hair, false, a wig but magnificent nonetheless. The princess was immediately surrounded by them.

Her other brother, the Duke of York, hugged and kissed her, and their cousin Prince Rupert elbowed York out of the way unceremoniously and said, "Little beauty. I thought we'd never pry you from the Frenchies' grasp. The Duke of Monmouth, King Charles's son, insisted on his hug, and the princess danced from one male relative to another, kissing their faces and wiping at tears running down her face.

You'd best watch your tongue," Alice told him. Alice turned her back on the group of them. The day was too happy to spoil with quarreling.

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There had been enough of that in France. This was adventure, huge adventure, and she was home at long last, about to see her best friend in the world, and the queen she so loved, and her father, and there was nothing d'Effiat or Beuvron or any of them could say to ruin a single moment. Her eyes met Prince Rupert's, and he winked, then made her a bow. Renee pointed to the king's son Monmouth.

Everything was becoming very confused. The maids of honor had broken rank in spite of the Dragon's frowns, lured by Monmouth's smiles, by Rupert's twinkling boisterousness, by King Charles's laughter, by the sense of froth and frivolity that seemed to have climbed right on board with him. Those who accompanied the princess from France, a duc here, a vicomte there, a priest or two, the captain of her household guard, tried to push past the clustered maids of honor, past the princess's tall brother and cousin, to introduce themselves over the noise of the orchestra and the bellows of that cousin, who seemed to be ordering something from above in the rigging.

He was. A great willow basket was being lowered from a pulley. Squeals from the maids of honor added to the growing melee as they rushed here and there to be out of its way. Once the basket was on deck, Prince Rupert patted it fondly, fell on one knee before his princess cousin, and made a motion for her to climb in, using his knee as step. She spoke in French because she'd lived in France all her life, and her English was small. We'll do what's proper on shore. But for now, I claim my sister as a prize of the sea. She's in English waters, and she's mine.

His eyes, a rogue's eyes, swept over the maids of honor. My sister must have escort. The captain of the household guard cleared his throat. The Dragon hovered, fluttering, not certain what to do. No one knew at this point. King Charles's eyes found Louise Renee de Keroualle, the most beautiful among them. In a heartbeat, Renee stepped up on Rupert's knee and over into the basket. For a moment, her stockings showed, and they were the same green as the princess's. It was shocking and exciting.

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King Charles's eyes found Alice. She had dropped as gracefully as a flower drooping. A gliding, natural grace of movement was one of her beauties. He walked over and stood before her, looking down at her bent head, the riot of curls there. He was her liege, her lord, her king. She'd known him since she was a child and he a penniless, beggar sovereign without a kingdom. This was a great and powerful moment. And I am happy to say I have acquired the most beautiful gowns in the world.

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Please try again later. Sue 4. I am writing the review after finishing all three books, so it is difficult to see them as individual books as they do flow together well. I can only give it 4 stars because I found the writing style difficult to follow at times. The story is a great story, but I found myself having to reread pages to figure out who was talking.

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The story was worth the effort to read it, despite the trouble I had at times, and I would recommend the book. Sometimes the nicknames of characters were used and it was confusing, especially since there several chapters between the appearance of the character, and sometimes, the nickname was used, and sometimes their formal name was used.

I found myself continuing to read, despite the question of who this was, and I would eventually find a tidbit clarifying the character. This caused some backtracking to make sure I kept abreast of the story. Since writing style is subjective, the story itself is worth reading, I just had trouble with the layout and multiple characters.

Accompanying her is her English maid of honor Alice Verney, daughter of Sir Thomas Verney, both exceedingly ambitious and somewhat unscrupulous by American egalitarian standards. Yet we must judge them by the values of the time. Alice is pretty. And practical. Yet her heart betrays her practicality when as she conspires to have Lord Balmoral fall in love with her, she falls in love herself with the lover of her best French friend, the stunningly beautiful Renee de Keroualle, who King Charles chooses for mistress. A merry, tragic, touching romance, and we are in sustained suspense throughout.

I had read her other books in the series and thought they were well written. She plots well, develops her characters and doesn't try to make the characters go out of character just to finish out a plot line. Her attention to detail is good but not overwhelming where your reading speed drops done and you feel like the plot stops, but instead she allows you to read like a movie is playing in your head. Absolutely delightful writer. I wish she would continue the series somehow.


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I cannot think of one, and Karleen Koen lends her pen to bring it alive in "Dark Angels". Koen has a knack for hooking the reader early on with hints and promises, and interesting characters. She writes romantic heroes, heroines and villains extremely well, as readers of "Through a Glass Darkly" know. I flew through the pages and loved the characters, costumes and themes centering on the struggles between love and greed or jealousy, forgiveness and revenge, and strategic scheming and surprise.

Regicide, religious wars, royal gossip and exploits, romance and gold digging rule the day. It is delicious fun! She's had her heart broken in love and loyalty through the betrayals of a friend and lover, and the murder of Madame, Princess Henrietta. Alice puts up a condescending, stand-offish front in an attempt to protect herself and others, and finds that such a barrier isolates us from those we love, rather than keep them close. She is sassy, spoiled, scheming and sophisticated, and yet disillusioned by life at court.