Location: Palace of Whitehall, London
Thomas pulled at his shirt’s frilly collar as he waited to see the Queen. He had not slept the night before, and his brain was clouded. His hand shook—not from the chill of the November air, but from the sheer mental weight of the item his fingers held. It had taken two months to perfect the pronged setting, but it was stunning. He hoped Her Majesty would agree.
To make it look the best it could, he’d placed the emerald on a swatch of red velvet in an ornamented box. His heel tapped repeatedly on the stone floor, and when Her Majesty’s handmaiden summoned him, he leapt from his seat so quickly, she started and put a hand to her chest.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Right this way, Sir Thomas.” She sniffed, lifted her face towards the sky, and spun around, her pinsons silent on the stone floor.
He hurried after her, hands trembling. Once he was shown into the Queen’s rooms, he bowed deeply and kissed Elizabeth’s ring in greeting.
“Sir Thomas. I hear you have something that may interest me?” Her question boomed through the enclosed space.
It was a moment before he found his voice. With a shaky hand, he lifted the lid of the box and held it out for her to examine. “I…” He licked his lips with a dry tongue as the words died.
There was no need to speak; she already had the necklace in her hand and was walking towards the window. “All this for a necklace?” She turned the emerald over in the light. “Oh, I see. Is this what those thieves were after?”
“I believe so, Your Grace.” His voice squeaked.
She turned and lifted an eyebrow. “Did you know I allowed them to plead their case?”
He shook his head.
“They mentioned witchcraft.”
He felt the blood drain from his face and his eyes widen.
“Do not look so pallid. Witchcraft! Indeed! Any fool knows good metallurgy when they see it.” Again, her attention went to the item in her hand, and she turned it over several times. “You are a master of your craft, sir. I recognized it from the first piece of yours I saw. This is exquisite.” Smiling, she turned back, her eyes dancing with mischief. “This is going to make you a very rich man. The way the light plays off the cuts of the gem when the back is left exposed so. Clever.” She moved behind a huge desk and sat, resting her chin on her hand. “Pray tell, do you still reside with your father?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, do stop with all the formalities, and sit down.” A laugh escaped her throat. “I tire of it all now and again. Besides, your family has been loyal to mine since my father was on the throne. I knighted you for your bravery on the battlefield. Surely you can see your way to using my name when we are closeted together as we now are. I give you leave to do so.”
Thomas gingerly sat in a high-backed chair opposite the Queen’s desk and cast his eyes to his shoes. Heart hammering, he tried to do as he was told. “Your… Elizabeth, forgive me, this will be difficult.”
“Will it be easier if I command you?”
His head snapped up in alarm, only to find her smiling at him. He laughed nervously. “It may.”
“Fine. Then I command thee, Sir Thomas, to refer to your sovereign Queen as Lizzy when there are no others present. Is that better?”
He felt ridiculous but nodded.
“At last.” Elizabeth reached up and tugged at her hair, pulling her red wig off and exposing short, blonde fuzz. She scratched her scalp and sighed with pleasure. Once the hair was back in place, she leaned forwards. “Now, tell me why you and your lady wife are residing with your father.”
“Since my mother passed, my father is in need of a woman to run his household.”
“Ah, yes. That is all women are good for.” She turned up the corner of her lip. “Tell me, do you believe your wife would enjoy life at court?”
Thomas’s heart pounded. “I believe she would make a most excellent lady’s maid to any of the fine women here at court.”
Elizabeth laughed, the sound like jingling bells. “I do not wish her to be a handmaiden. Rather, my desire is to have women wait on her.”
“I am not sure I grasp your meaning, Y… Lizzy.”
“Thomas, this piece is exactly the sort of thing I have been searching for. It is exquisite! I must have you in my employment immediately, which means you and your wife will be appointed apartments here in the palace. She will be doted on. No more need to run a household.” Her smile was dazzling, and the excitement in her person radiated through the room.
“You wish for me to become the royal goldsmith?”
“Yes. It is what you want.” It was not a question. She knew what was in his heart before he had to say it. “I only ask that you keep your wares for my household alone. Is that agreeable?”
Struck dumb, he gaped and nodded.
“Please, do close your mouth. You look like a codfish.” Laughter burst out of the Queen forcefully, and she wrapped her arms around her middle as though she were in pain.
It wasn’t long before he was chuckling along with her. Once their mirth faded, he braved the question that had been on his mind since Elizabeth mentioned it. “Might I ask what became of the thieves caught in my workshop?”
She smiled. It wasn’t warm, and her eyes were two pieces of rock in her face. “I had them hanged. No one steals in my kingdom and is allowed to keep their life.” With a tilt of her head, she asked, “Is that not what you desired?”
“I have no mind to tell Your Majesty how to govern a kingdom. I was only curious.”
“Then let it away from your mind. We have pleasantries to discuss. How soon might I be able to call upon you to ornament my dresses?”
Not wishing to appear rude, he tarried with Elizabeth until he knew it was time to take his leave. With a gracious bow and many thanks, he bade her good day, accepted the emerald with a promise to return it after copying the setting, and fled forthwith to his home. He could not wait to get there and tell Kelleigh they would be moving into the palace.
“Kelleigh!” He ran through the halls screaming.
She appeared from around a bend, her eyes wide and her hand over her heart.
“Kelleigh! Oh, thank God!” Pulling her into an embrace, he squeezed until she slapped his arms and pushed him back.
Concern was etched into her every feature. “Thomas? Is everything all right?”
He was sure elation exuded from every pound of his person, but she seemed distressed. Grabbing her and spinning in a circle, he whispered, “My prayers have been answered. We shall move into the palace in a fortnight!”
Eyes wide, she pushed him back and stared. “If you were planning humor at my expense, I dare say you have chosen most offensive words. Tell me you speak the truth, and I shall consider forgiving you for giving me such an awful fright when you arrived.”
“I speak the truth, my love. Our lady Queen has appointed me royal goldsmith. She wants us to come to court, and she wants me to only create finery for her and her ladies.”
Lady Kelleigh put her fingertips to her mouth, widened her eyes, and chuffed. “I cannot believe it is true! Husband, you have done it!”
Wailing echoed off the stone walls, sounding like a lamb being brought to slaughter.
Though the sound of Marian crying wiped the look from Kelleigh’s face, Thomas’s mood could not be soured. He placed his hand over his wife’s. “I will retrieve her and bring her to you in our bedchamber.”
When he turned to go, she caught hold of his arm, drawing him back to her. “I love you, husband. I am so proud of what you have done.”
After he kissed her soundly, he guided his fingers over her cheek and tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, bringing his palm back to cup her chin. “I love you, too. Now go.”
Her laughter followed him through the house as he sought out his daughter.
Marian was lying in her crib, making gurgling sounds. She looked positively angelic as she poked her fingers into the fleshy part of her fac
e.
Being careful to keep his voice low and even, he kissed her on the head and whispered, “What have I here? Do my eyes deceive me, or is that an angel where my daughter is supposed to be?”
She blew a raspberry in his ear, and he chuckled, lifting her from the crib to take her to her mother for feeding.
Date: March 20, 1585
Location: Palace of Whitehall, London
Lady Kelleigh spun in a circle, her skirts swishing in a wide arc.
“You look lovely,” Thomas said. “Did the Queen help you pick that colour?”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling.
“It suits you.” His eyes drank her in.
Her dress was the deep green of a well-grown hedge, with wide slashes in the sleeves to allow snow-white satin to show through. But his gaze was locked on the bejeweled, square neckline. Her breasts were fuller since the birth of Marian, and they showed well in the low-cut gown, the silver necklace she always wore seeming to point to the deep cleft between the soft mounds.
He stood and pulled Kelleigh towards him, pushing his hands into her hair on either side, and bringing her lips to his own. Their bodies pressed flush against one another, and he felt the tingles of arousal tighten the fabric of his breeches. When he could stand it no longer, he released her lips and pressed his own to her neck below her ear. “We shall complete this task in the evening.”
Releasing her, and noting how red her cheeks had become—making her all the more stunning—he blew her a little kiss before walking out the door. His ears picked up the sounds of her ladies giggling, and he smiled. That ought to give them something to have a good bit of intrigue over.
Whistling, he strode through the palace towards his new workshop. It was a fine place, undecorated but for the wooden tables, instruments, and smelting tools. A perfect hideaway to finish the piece he planned to present to the Queen at the ball in two days’ time.
It was to be a grand event, and nobles from distant lands had been invited to take part in the festivities. He planned to honor and delight his benefactor for all to see.
Already, he had constructed fine settings for many pieces of jet and diamonds Her Majesty planned to wear for the portrait she had commissioned. All that was left was to set the stones and add the last ruby to the newest necklace.
As he stoked the flames to make molten gold, he smiled. Queen Elizabeth was sure to show him high regard.
He was in the midst of a delicate procedure, bending the soft metal to hold one of the diamonds in place, when someone knocked on the door and startled him. As the jewel tumbled to the tabletop and the metal cooled, he dropped his tools, sighed, rubbed his palms over his face, and said, “Enter!” It came out as harshly as he intended.
A red-faced, sweaty page entered, his eyes wide. “S… Sir Thomas!” He bowed. “My most humble apologies for disturbing you, sir.”
“I daresay this is important.” Thomas’s mind whirled through scenarios as he waited.
“‘Tis your father, sir. He has fallen to the ague. I was told to bring you forthwith.”
Ague was a terrible illness, and it had a greater impact on those who were later in their years. He shuddered. His father would be five score and two soon. In a flash, Thomas was off his stool and making haste for the door. As his feet struck the cobblestones, he wondered how long the old man had been taken with chills before he summoned the doctor. Stubborn fool. Never did admit his weaknesses, and he never took no for an answer. King Henry VIII certainly saw something there; he made the man a lord at age twenty and gave him the house on the Thames. Thomas never discovered why, but he was sure it was related to the loyalty and stubbornness of his father. Stubborn… More like pride or… Thoughts were cut short when Thomas turned a bend near the house and saw a group of palace guards standing by the door.
He wondered why the Queen would be visiting. Unless… Legs flying furiously underneath his body carried him faster than he had ever run. By the time he approached the door, his chest was heaving, and he had slowed to a walk. No longer was he in a rush, because there could only be one reason she was there. Several of the guards said hello as he passed, and he tarried by the strong slab of oak separating him from his father’s corpse.
Sadness and fear settled into Thomas’s heart when the familiar wood encountered his hand. After a deep breath, he pushed.
“You scoundrel!” Elizabeth shrieked.
Without a thought, he sprinted through the house towards the voice. But laughter pulled him up short of the doorway, and he paused to listen.
“I always said you were a bright child, Lizzy. His Highness loved you very much; he always spoke well of your intelligence and handsomeness.”
“My dear Lord Russell, you do use such flattering words, but there is no need. I know my father’s heart. He bewitched me at a young age with compliments.” She sighed and sniffled. “Did you know he read to me no less than every fortnight?”
“I did not.”
“He would change his voice to sound like a lady when the character demanded it of him. You know, these are the kinds of memories you shall leave with your own family. Thomas, just yesterday, said to—”
Thomas stepped around the corner and cleared his throat. He felt his face grow warm as he bowed to Elizabeth before turning to his father. “I was summoned by a page and made haste, but I see you have an amiable companion already.”
Wrapped in a woolen blanket, the old man still shivered, his face coated with a sheen of sweat. But he chortled and smiled. “I do. Her Highness has been most delightful to converse with. I could ask for no better company.” A sudden coughing fit had him retching.
Thomas wrung his hands, not knowing what to do. His eyes met Elizabeth’s, and she gave a small shake of her head, her eyes wide with sadness.
After the hacking subsided, Lord Russell took a shaky breath. “Please, my most ardent apologies.”
Elizabeth waved her hand. “You are ill. I shall send the doctor ‘round again on the ‘morrow.” She stood, smoothed her skirts, and gave the Lord’s fingers a light touch. “Be well, Lord Russell.” Before she passed through the archway, she turned back and gestured. “Accompany me to the door, Sir Thomas.”
Thomas walked in silence with her until they approached the exit; then, he met her gaze. “How much longer before he is consumed by the illness?”
“My doctor approximated no more than one week. Ague has riddled this place recently. We shall move to Windsor before Easter. Already I have missed my visit to Greenwich. We have tarried in London for too many months.” She got a faraway look in her eyes at the mention of Greenwich but quickly recovered. “I command you to stay by your father’s side until he is recovered or dead. You will join my household after whatever comes to pass, has.” With that, she swirled out of the house in a cloud of red velvet.
Jaw hanging, Thomas cursed silently. There would be no grand ball, no chance to receive accolades in the presence of innumerable nobles for his craftsmanship.
Date: May 2, 1585
Location: Windsor Castle
Despite every doctor condemning Lord Russell to the icy grip of Death, the old man survived. It was quite a struggle, but Thomas had tended to his duties as expected. If he never emptied another chamber pot filled with vomit, it would be quite all right with him.
He missed Easter at Windsor Castle, but his wife was full of intrigue by the time he arrived.
Rumors Lady Kelleigh had become a favorite of one of the lords at court were whispered, but Thomas could find no fault in her manners when she was near the subject of the gossip: Lord Hale. Watching from a corner during one of the balls, Thomas surmised it was the blatant flirting of Lord Hale that fanned the flames of imagination. But Kelleigh responded with grace and humility, no matter the reddening of her cheeks as he praised her openly.
Elizabeth leaned to Thomas’s ear. “She is every bit the lady, and I approve of her mannerisms. I enjoy her company very much. A word of warning: Lord Hale is a beastly man. He will fin
d a way to seize hold of what he desires. Do not leave her side, or I fear I will have to remove his head for spoiling your wife.”
His insides churned. Surely, this man would take no liberties with another’s wife if she were not willing. Rather than sit idly by, Thomas hastened across the room and swept Kelleigh away for dancing. He held her close during the waltz. “Take care. Lord Hale is not to be trusted.”
“He is harmless. An insufferable flirt.” She cast her eyes to the floor.
“Tell me you have not had private audience with him.”
Her cheeks turned scarlet. “Of course not!”
“Do you wish to?”
“No.”
Their eyes met, and he gauged the truth in hers, finding them open, honest, and a bit angry.
He pulled her closer. “I am sorry. I shall never doubt your absolute devotion. I beg of you, do not find yourself alone with him.”
“You seem greatly troubled by it. I shall heed your warning, husband.”
His heart swelled with love and calmed its thunderous pace. They swirled around the floor with the music until their feet ached.
When the others departed the hall, Thomas took her by the hand and led her towards an exit. On the way, he caught the Queen’s eye.
She gave him a single nod and a small smile as her eyes followed the couple out.
Once he and Kelleigh arrived at their suite of rooms, he shooed her ladies out and bolted the door.
“Why did you send them anon? However will I remove myself from these lacings?” She put her fists on her hips and scowled.
They had not had occasion to be alone since he arrived two days prior. He had missed her, and his body betrayed his thoughts.
A giggle escaped her closed mouth, and she lifted the back of her hand to her lips. “Oh, I see.”
“No, you do not. But you shall.” It came out as a growl, and Thomas crossed the room in two strides. He pulled her body to his, moaning when her exquisite breasts encountered his chest. It had been too long since he had tasted of her.
Unable to hold back, he dipped his head and crushed their lips together. His hand moved from her waist to the laces on her bodice, and he pulled the ties, loosening the garment enough so it could be removed. Next, he attacked her skirts. Three layers were undone and cast to the floor before he could behold her.
7: The Seven Deadly Sins Page 5