Murder at the Queen's Masquerade

by Amanda Carmack

  “Violet, do come along,” Lady Green snapped. “Don’t dawdle so. It is most unbecoming.” Her pet monkey jumped and chattered, and Lady Green took him up into her arms, cooing at him.

  Violet hurried behind her mother-in-law, but Kate stopped for a moment to study the abandoned wardrobe room. Without the laughter of the ladies, it seemed most forlorn, its abandoned treasures all empty sparkle under the dull glint of the gilt-paneled ceiling. It made her feel strangely sad, as she had when she was leaving her father’s cottage behind.

  “Kate Haywood! To me!” the queen called from the chamber below, and Kate hurried to follow. There was surely no time to feel wistful, not with a court masquerade ball to plan.

  * * *

  “Kate! Kate, wake up, I beg you. There is not much time.”

  “What . . .” Kate had been woken in the middle of the night many times before at the queen’s court; it was when the most exciting things seemed to happen. But it had seldom been by the queen herself. The sound of Elizabeth’s voice now, in the blackest part of the night, and her impatient hand shaking Kate’s shoulder, made Kate shoot up out of her dreams in a panic.

  The fire had died down low, and the room was chilly, but Violet slept on. For an instant, Kate wondered if the sight of the queen kneeling down by the bed, wrapped in a fur-trimmed robe, was a dream, but her whisper was real enough.

  “Your Grace!” Kate whispered in return. “What has happened?”

  “Come with me,” Elizabeth said. “I need to show you something, and I cannot have anyone else see.”

  Kate glanced down at Violet, who frowned a bit in her own dreams but didn’t awake. What could be the meaning of this? Surely Elizabeth would not wake her thus for a masked ball emergency. “Of course, Your Grace.”

  She tiptoed behind the queen into the corridor, and only realized when her feet touched the stone floor how cold the night was. Elizabeth gave an impatient sigh, and quickly wrapped Kate up in her own robe before taking up a candle she had left on a table outside. Elizabeth wore only her linen night shift and a shawl around her shoulders, but she seemed impervious to any chill. “Come along, this should not take long. You will be back in your own chamber long before Lady Violet awakes.”

  Kate followed the queen down the corridor and up the stairs of the privy tower, hurrying to follow her swift pace. The castle was silent, everyone tucked behind their own doors. Even the queen’s own bedchamber seemed wrapped in darkness, with two ladies asleep in the truckle bed, and the royal bedclothes tossed back in an untidy heap.

  Queen Elizabeth quickly unlocked the door of the wardrobe room where she had led all her ladies earlier, and gestured for Kate to follow her. Bewildered, Kate could only do as she bid. Elizabeth set down her candle and shut the door behind them.

  Without the crowds of ladies, it was a strange room indeed. The candle cast dancing shadows on the locked cases, and the tall ceiling seemed to vanish into darkness. The wind raced around the tower, whistling and shrieking as if it begged entrance, but the stones kept it out.

  “Do you see that, Kate?” Elizabeth said. She held her candle high, and gestured to the top of a tall chest. It was lined with several shallow drawers, and ended with two classical columns, each topped with a carved alabaster vase.

  Or—one ended in a vase. The other ended in a jagged line, crumbling and broken.

  “Did we break it when we were here earlier?” Kate asked, puzzled. Surely they would have all heard such a crash.

  “Nay, it happened many days ago, at night. We were all in the great hall watching a play,” Elizabeth said. She frowned up at the vase. “Or rather, most of us were. A guard was in here. He died when the other alabaster vase fell on his head.”

  “Your Grace!’ Kate cried. There had been murders at the queen’s court before, aye, far too many—but this seemed most odd. She had heard no whispers of it, even from Violet. And Elizabeth seemed very removed as she talked of it, almost as if she related the plot of a play they had been watching. “Who was it?”

  “A man called Will. He had worked here for a long time, they say, and he seemed most trustworthy. But he got into this room with a key, which someone must have had cut to give him—and then he was killed for it. It was Kat Ashley who found him, and Cecil insisted the manner of his death must be a secret. The other guards know that he died, of course, but not how.”

  “Why is Sir William keeping it a secret?”

  “He says it will be easier to discover the guilty party. Someone must have hired this Will.”

  Kate studied the room, thinking of all the tempting jewels locked away there. “He could not have tried to break in here on his own?”

  “With a new key? Mayhap, but I do not think he could. And it seems he wasn’t after jewels or coins.” Elizabeth unlocked one of the drawers in the tall chest and drew out a bundle of papers. The ink seemed faded on the parchments, the seals old, broken and cracked. “Only papers are kept here. Old letters and deeds from my father’s time. Records of many estates, and dealings that some of the older courtiers might not want known.”

  Kate nodded. That made sense, if Will was killed carrying out someone else’s errand. “Who could want those?”

  Elizabeth gave a wry laugh. “At least a dozen noble families are mentioned here. It will take time to sort them out.”

  “Shall I read them over for you, Your Grace?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Cecil has men deciphering such things. But with my Robin away, I need someone here I can trust. Someone who can help me watch the people around me. I know I can trust you, Kate. You have always served me well.”

  Kate glanced up at the broken vase. She had always served the queen, and hoped she always would. But she knew very well that many at court had far different masters. “Of course, Your Grace. I will serve you however I can.”

  Chapter Three

  “What do you think of the queen’s revels, Kate?” Rob asked her as they strolled across the ramparts of one of Windsor’s towers. “Is it just a distraction?”

  “A distraction for the court, or for the queen herself?” Kate leaned against the rough stone parapet and looked down at the courtyard below. It was after the evening meal and the sky was darkening quickly; guards were lighting the torches, casting their flickering glow over the cobblestones.

  The wind was still cold, catching at her cloak and tugging strands of her dark hair from under her cap, but she was glad of the crisp, green country scent on the air. It seemed to clear her mind after the atmosphere of the stuffy castle rooms. Even though everyone was caught up in the excitement of the masquerade, the dark weather of the last few weeks still clung to everything. And the queen’s temper, even more changeable that usual—from silent brooding to wild merriment—had everyone jumping.

  Even if they did not know the true reason for the royal unease.

  “Are they not one and the same?” Rob said. He leaned on the parapet next to her, and she was glad of his warmth, of his company. She did not have to pretend with him; she could let every mask drop and just be herself when she was with Rob. “We all depend on the queen for our livelihoods. She is the center of every world that matters.”

  “We have to plan this masquerade now, that is how we are bid to serve her,” Kate said. And it was true—along with everything else the queen had asked of her, there was a ball to plan. “Have you any ideas for the music?”

  They continued on their stroll around the tower, talking of music and costumes as the courtyard below them glowed brighter and the night turned darker. They were the only ones who had braved the chilly wind, and it almost felt as if their tower top was their own kingdom, high above the rest of the world. Kate nearly tripped over a small, round hatch set in the stone floor, and she laughed as Rob caught her arm. A cold gust swept around them again, and she shivered, though she wasn’t sure if it was the wind, or Rob’s closeness.

&nb
sp; “Come, we should go inside now before you catch a chill,” he said. “Are you lodging in the maids’ chamber?”

  “Nay, luckily Violet has a small closet, and I can share it with her, which will be much quieter. Where are you and Thomas staying?”

  “A room behind the kitchen, which is blessedly warm. Perhaps it will be quiet enough for me to persuade Thomas to talk to me as well.”

  Kate studied Rob’s face, which was usually creased in laughter. Tonight he looked worried. “Is all well with him? Is he truly sad by this lady he composed poetry for?”

  “I know not. Lads like him have passions all the time, but Thomas seems most preoccupied by this one. I have also noticed him gambling more of late, and not very well. He does not seem to be a young man for the cards . . .”

  “Unless he is trying to impress a lady?”

  “Perhaps. I hope to talk to him more about it tonight.”

  Kate held on to his arm and let him lead her toward the stairs that wound down to the corridors of the palace and the queen’s privy chamber below. Suddenly, over the edge of the parapet, a movement in the courtyard caught her attention.

  It was unmistakably Lady Margaret Lennox, her tall, solid figure swathed in a fur-lined cloak, the torchlight falling on her reddish hair, and the smaller woman who walked beside her looked like Lady Green, in a gray hooded mantel. Lady Margaret waved her hands angrily in the air, and her shout carried on the wind to the tower above, the words indistinct but the emotion behind them clear. Lady Margaret was, as she so often seemed to be, angry.

  Because of the pearl? Or something more, something deeper?

  “Kate?” Rob said.

  “Aye,” Kate answered quickly, turning to him with a smile. There would always be someone angry and dissatisfied at court; Lady Margaret could wait a little longer. There was a masquerade to be planned.

  * * *

  When Kate first pushed open the door to the small chamber, she thought it was empty. A fire was set in the small fireplace, chasing away the damp chill of the evening, and her clothes chest and the case for her lute had been delivered. The only furniture was a washstand next to the narrow window, and two cushioned stools close to the fire, along with two narrow beds with their heavy blue curtains drawn closed around them. Aside from the crackle of the flames, it was quiet.

  Until a tiny sob broke the silence.

  “Vi?” Kate called out tentatively, half wondering if it was a mouse squeaking over the floorboards.

  A corner of a bed curtain slid back, and she saw Violet peek out. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been crying for a while.

  “Thank heavens it is you, Kate,” she sighed.

  Kate made sure the door was closed behind her. “Who else would it be?”

  “Lady Green, of course. I managed to escape from her. She had to take that horrid monkey for his walk. But I am meant to play primero in her room later.”

  “Oh, nay! Why?” Kate glimpsed a ewer of wine and some goblets on the washstand, and hurried to pour them each a generous portion. She pressed one of the goblets into her friend’s hand, and Violet drank it down quickly.

  “To be polite, of course. She is my mother-in-law, and if I do not listen to her, she will just write angry letters to my husband. He has quite enough to worry about at the moment, serving Sir Robert Dudley away from court.”

  “Whatever does she have to complain about? You must be the kindest of daughters-in-law.”

  “Oh, she complains about her widow’s portion. She has her own house, and an annuity according to her marriage contract, but she is always talking of how she lives in penury.” Violet lowered her head, and a tear slowly escaped down her cheek. “And she’s unhappy I have not had a son.”

  “What nonsense!” Kate cried. “You have only been wed a year, and you have little Catherine.”

  Violet sighed. “I know. But I am sure she must be a very miserable woman to behave thus, so I must be kind to her. For now. I tell you, Kate, you must be careful to marry a man who is an orphan.”

  Kate laughed. “I will do my very best.”

  Violet gave a teasing smile. “I heard that lovely Master Cartman escorted you to court.”

  Kate took a sip of her wine. She couldn’t help but remember that Rob was an orphan; he had been raised in a troupe of actors by his uncle. “So he did. We have been friends for a long time.”

  “Friends. Aye, of course.”

  Kate thought of Anthony, of his kind green eyes, and shook her head. “I do not think of marriage right now.”

  Violet shook her head, but her eyes sparkled with laughter now and not tears. “I will not tease you about Master Cartman, if you will come with me to play cards with Lady Green. It would be easier if I had a friend there.”

  Kate had to agree. She would have felt cowardly to let her friend go alone into the lions’ den, and besides, she was curious about what everyone was gossiping about here at court. Card games were the best place to hear not-so-idle chatter. They finished their wine before making their way to the card party.

  Lady Green had a room in another wing of the castle, near to where Kate knew Lady Lennox had been given her rooms, far from the queen. Lady Green’s chamber was small, but was most comfortably and elaborately furnished, with carved, cushioned chairs, and velvet cloths draped over the tables. A portrait of a younger Lady Green, in the low-cut gown of King Henry’s time, hung on the dark-paneled wall, and a buffet table was laden with platters of cakes and suckets, and silver pitchers of spiced wine.

  Kate could see no sign of poverty in the tapestries and the fine silver plate, nor in Lady Green’s own raiment. Her gown was of heavy, dark gray satin trimmed with glossy dark fur, her headdress edged with beaded embroidery, and fine pearl earrings shimmered at her ears. She held up a small tube, a pomander with a ruby at one end, and took a deep breath of its scent before letting it drop to the end of its chain at her waist.

  The card players sat at three round tables set up in the middle of the room. Lady Green and her friend Lady Lennox sat at one, with one of Lady Lennox’s husband’s kinsmen and an empty stool. Lady Green’s pet monkey sat at her feet, nibbling at a sugar wafer and chattering to a clutch of lovebirds in a gilded cage. The other card players seemed to be mostly of the older, more conservative faction of courtiers, the ones who had long been friends to the Lennoxes.

  But to Kate’s surprise, young Thomas, Rob’s apprentice, played the lute in the corner, a soft, melancholy tune half drowned by the laughter of the card players and the monkey’s whispering, so strangely humanlike.

  “There you are, Violet,” Lady Green said. “You must make a fourth here in our game. You are very late.”

  Violet went quietly to take her seat, and Lady Lennox dealt the cards. Kate found a low stool in the corner of the chamber near Thomas, where she could watch everyone. There was the dealing of cards, the murmur of voices, and soft laughter. As the wine was passed around, the chatter grew louder, the clink of coins like a song behind their words.

  “Did Lady Green summon you to play tonight, Thomas?” Kate asked him softly.

  He shook his head. “Her friend Lady Lennox. She said she had heard of my talent,” he said with a flash of shy pride. “I have heard Lady Green already owes her debts over other card games, so I am not sure why they play together tonight, but I will give them a song for it.”

  “Would you not rather be with your sweetheart tonight?” Kate teased him.

  His cheeks turned pink under the brim of his velvet cap. “She will be too busy for me. But perhaps if she hears I was to play here . . .”

  “She would be impressed?”

  “Nay, mayhap not. She seems hard to impress.”

  “Then she is not worth your time, perhaps.”

  There was a sudden noise, a slap of flesh against flesh, and Kate looked up, startled to see Violet jumping up fro
m the card table. Her cards fluttered from her hand, and Lady Green’s monkey shrieked. There was a red print on Violet’s cheek, and Kate rose from her stool to go to her as the rest of the room turned to see what the commotion was.

  “You silly girl,” Lady Green cried. “You have played the wrong card again! Go and fetch me some wine, make yourself useful for once. You, the lad with the lute—can you play primero?”

  “I—yes, your ladyship,” Thomas stammered, looking as shocked as Violet.

  “Then you take my daughter-in-law’s place. You can be no worse at it.”

  As Thomas slid into Violet’s abandoned seat, Kate took her friend’s arm and led her to the quiet corner, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the players. A page hurried over with a goblet of wine, but Kate would not let Violet take it to Lady Green. “Nay, you take a glass, Vi,” she whispered. Turning to the page, she asked him to take it to Lady Green himself.

  “Are you quite all right, Vi?” Kate whispered to her. “Are you in pain? What happened?”

  Violet gave her a smile, but it was too glittering to be real. “It was only Lady Green, she disagreed with something I said. I shall not get so close to her again, I vow.”

  Kate couldn’t breathe. It felt like a red tide of anger rose in her mind, and she longed to go to Lady Green and slap her right back. But she knew that making a scene would not help Violet. She could, however, keep her friend away from her bad-tempered mother-in-law. “That’s not right, Vi. You must speak to your husband about her.”

  Violet shook her head. “Not now. He has so many matters to concern him. I will talk to him when he comes back and things are quieter. At least she is here, and not at our country house with baby Catherine.” She gave Kate a determined smile. “And now you are here to distract me!”

  Kate nodded at the hint. “Of course I can! Sit here with me for a time, tell me the gossip of everyone who is here. I have been gone from court too long. I heard one of the queen’s guards was killed most horribly! Does everyone feel safe here after that?”