A moment later, everyone in the narrow courtyard seemed to be kneeling, and cheers echoed about the high walls as we rode slowly forward.
‘Long live the Lady Elizabeth!’ one man shouted, and was soon joined by other voices.
A serving woman near the palace entrance crossed herself, gazing up with admiration at Elizabeth’s pale face and long, unbound hair, glinting reddish-gold in the sunlight. ‘May God bless you, Princess Elizabeth!’ she called out, and was rewarded with a smile.
The warmth in their voices reassured me that, even if her sister was unhappy to see Elizabeth arriving at court uninvited, she could hardly send her away again without incurring the wrath of her people. For it was clear that they loved Elizabeth. No doubt beside the dark-featured, often miserable Catholic queen who had married a Spaniard and brought the bonfires of the Inquisition to our shores, this young Tudor princess looked like an angel.
Inside the palace, her reception was less warm. The steward who led us, with a disapproving expression, towards chambers fit for a princess and her entourage explained that there had been no warning of her visit, and therefore the bedchambers would not be ready for habitation for several hours. But we could wait in an antechamber while the Queen was informed of her arrival. Elizabeth, courteous as ever, thanked the man as though he had handed her the keys to the palace itself, and said she would be content with whatever was available.
The antechamber turned out to be quite spacious and well-provided with comfortable seats, much to our relief, for we had ridden a long way. Soon after we were installed there, a whole team of impassive servants appeared through a side door, bearing generous trays of drinks and platters of both hot and cold food, and soon we were licking our fingers, enjoying a feast.
Elizabeth even went so far as to joke that she did not know why she had not come back to court before, when the hospitality was so good . . .
At that moment the steward returned. He opened the large double entrance doors and bowed, his face stiff when he found us all convulsed with laughter.
‘If you would follow me, my lady, Her Majesty the Queen will be pleased to admit you to her royal presence,’ he announced coldly.
An awkward silence fell in the room.
Alice chewed on one of her fingernails, staring at the steward with wide eyes, and William slapped her hand.
With his back to the steward, Richard carefully tightened up the gold doorknob he had been unscrewing.
‘Shall I come with you, my lady?’ Blanche whispered, but Elizabeth shook her head.
‘I will not need you, Blanche. Stay and see that the rest of my household is properly housed.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Cool, unhurried, Elizabeth cleaned her fingers in the water bowl provided, dried her hands carefully on a white damask napkin, then followed the steward from the room without a backward glance, her bearing erect.
‘That’s the last we’ll see of her,’ William muttered.
Alice tutted at him. ‘Hush, bad boy.’
‘Mistress Alice, you like me bad . . .’ he teased.
Blanche’s eyes widened in horror and she turned at once, separating the two and remonstrating with William for being coarse-tongued in the Queen’s own palace.
I looked across at Richard, his doublet and hose stained with dust from the road, meeting his intent gaze. He smiled, winking at me over the absurdity of it all, and I suddenly wanted to rush over and embrace him. For still being there, for putting up with my moods, for not leaving . . .
But I did not, of course. It would not be fair on Richard, and would only serve to confuse my own heart further. For much as I found Richard clever and handsome and funny and as curiously dark-souled as I was, he was not – and never could be – Alejandro de Castillo.
The princess did not return to our apartments until quite late that evening, having dined with her sister and been ‘forgiven’, she claimed, for her arrival when Queen Mary heard the totally untrue tale of a sickness in the village that had necessitated our speedy removal to court.
I thought Elizabeth looked quite white with fatigue when she came back, but her eyes were glowing with triumph.
‘Things will begin to change now,’ she muttered as we dressed her for bed, smiling about herself at the gilt walls and lavish furnishings, our lodgings far more suited to royalty than the cramped rooms we had shared at Hampton Court. ‘They have to change.’
The next day I saw Queen Mary again myself, and was shocked by the change in her since last summer. I remembered well the proud, slightly plump lady in the sweeping Spanish gowns who had presided over the court, handsome husband by her side, and even argued passionately with him before us all.
Now the queen seemed almost shrunken, her skin grey, her thin mouth unsmiling as Elizabeth knelt before the throne, the rest of us kneeling several paces behind her.
‘Rise,’ she said briefly, then looked away at the high windows of the Great Hall.
There was an air of desolation about the Queen now. I watched her with pity, for this was undoubtedly a woman who believed she had been abandoned by her husband.
‘I have to meet with the Privy Council again today, but the palace gardens are open to you, sister, or you may ride out if the sun is not too hot. I remember that you enjoy riding. You have brought ladies with you? Yes, good. There are games to be played in the gardens at this season, croquet and bowls, and tonight you will join me in dining with the Spanish lords who have come with news from my husband’s camp. He still disputes against the French. It goes on and on.’ Her gaze wandered back to us, frowning now. The Queen looked almost suspiciously at me, then back at her sister. ‘But where is Señor de Castillo? Was he not among your household?’
‘He was recalled to Spain, Your Majesty,’ Elizabeth replied with quiet respect, her head bowed. ‘His father has arranged an advantageous marriage there for him, and he is to attend King Philip’s court.’
‘Yes, I remember now. Señor de Pero came to me, seeking permission for his return to Spain. No doubt young de Castillo will make a good husband, he was always most loyal. Though one can never tell.’
Queen Mary seemed to lose interest, though her words had been bitter, and when her eyes lighted on her sister, there was a curious hardness in them. She tapped her hand on the velvet arm of her throne, a huge jewel flashing on her finger.
Glancing surreptitiously about the Great Hall, I noticed a courtier all in black standing beneath a wall tapestry depicting an ancient hunting scene – a pack of hounds chasing a stag across a deep river, with horsemen watching from the bank. The man was watching us with equal fascination, arms folded across a broad chest, his dark gaze narrowed on the princess’s bent head. I recognized him at once.
Robert Dudley.
He was lean and undeniably handsome, exactly as I had seen him in my Aspicio vision – except that his beard had since been trimmed to a neat strip down the centre of his chin.
‘Well, I must speak with the Council,’ the Queen was saying. ‘It is a dreary business but necessary.’
She rose and the courtiers fell back, all of us kneeling in a great whispering rustle of silk and taffeta as the Queen made her way heavily to the great doors, followed by her ladies-in-waiting.
The Lady Elizabeth stood and watched her sister leave the Great Hall, her dark eyes intent. As her head turned, I saw her gaze meet Robert Dudley’s, then move on after only the tiniest hesitation. A moment later, she turned to us with complete composure, as if she had not even noticed him in the crowd.
‘Today I shall ride out and pay a visit to an old friend,’ she remarked calmly.
No one watching the princess would ever have guessed that there was love between those two, I thought, and marvelled at her control.
Once again, we attracted attention throughout the city, and the princess made sure she did, smiling and waving to those men and women who knelt at the roadside as she passed, stopping once to accept a posy of flowers from a young boy.
‘She will make a good queen,’ Alice whispered, nudging me as we rode together behind the princess.
‘The Lady Elizabeth has the love of the common people,’ I agreed, watching the princess as we turned our horses down a narrow side-street, and people stared from open casements above, their looks of astonishment and pleasure obvious even through the swathes of clothes hung out to dry between the houses. ‘She only has to wave, and they cheer.’
Alice met my gaze. ‘I have not liked this breach between them. Sisters should be friends, not enemies. Perhaps things will become better now that her ladyship is reconciled with the Queen again.’
‘Perhaps,’ I said dubiously.
But Queen Mary had not looked pleased this morning, despite Elizabeth’s claims of her warm welcome yesterday. But then, I suspected it would only take a little poison in a lonely woman’s ear to turn her against her only surviving flesh and blood, especially when Elizabeth was so much younger and more beautiful.
The house where John Dee was lodged was narrow but tall, and its second storey overhung the front step to provide more room on the upper floor. As Richard dismounted, the door opened, and several servants hurried out to hold the princess’s horse while William helped her dismount.
We were hurried inside while the horses were led away for water. Removing my riding gloves, I walked down the short dark corridor and found myself in an open courtyard within the house, watching the play of water in a sunlit fountain beside an ancient oak. A door flew open and I recognized John Dee, the Queen’s astrologer, as he came out to greet us, his hair slightly unkempt, long robe brushing the dirt.
‘My lady,’ he said, bowing low to the princess. ‘You honour me with this visit.’
Elizabeth nodded, unsmiling. ‘Let us hope it does not reach the ears of the Queen. I am glad your friend was able to open his lodgings to us, but of course we cannot stay long. It would draw suspicion.’ She looked about the place, a little breathless, her eyes darting into every corner. Her cheeks were unnaturally flushed. ‘Is Master Dudley here?’
‘He awaits you within, my lady.’
‘Show me the way, sir, if you please. Time is short.’
I watched as the princess followed John Dee through the doorway and into shadow. So she had indeed come here to visit Master Robert Dudley without the eyes of the court on her. I had been left unsure after the way she failed to acknowledge him in the Great Hall. But I had reckoned without her natural caution, for of course she would not wish anyone at court to suspect their relationship.
Yet did she mean to bid Robert Dudley a last farewell today, or encourage the courtier to pursue her in greater secrecy?
With the princess, it was never easy to guess her mind. Elizabeth had lived too long under the shadow of disgrace to risk being open about her motives or emotions.
The rest of us stood about the courtyard in silence, uncertain what to do. The place was beautiful though, the fountain splashing delightfully into its shadowy green pool beneath the oak, and it was no hardship to take our ease there a while.
‘Whose house is this?’ I asked Richard in a low voice.
He made a face. ‘No one of significance. A bookseller. A friend of a friend.’
Cunning of Elizabeth, I thought, to choose a place to meet unconnected with either man. But our visit here was still doubly dangerous. The Queen would suspect at once that Elizabeth was plotting against her if she discovered we had come here to visit both Dee – a man already imprisoned once for his activities, however much he might have redeemed himself by agreeing to join Bishop Bonner’s household – and Robert Dudley, the son of an executed traitor.
John Dee came back into the sunlit courtyard a few minutes later, a knowing smile on his lips. I guessed that Elizabeth’s reunion with Master Dudley had been a passionate one, despite her protest that she had accepted her fate as a lifelong virgin.
I could hardly blame the princess for being in love though. Not when I had made so many foolish decisions myself in the name of that dangerous emotion.
‘Richard!’ John Dee embraced his apprentice with genuine pleasure, then looked at him closely. ‘Come inside. How was your journey? You look remarkably well. Is there a Venusian transit to your Sun, perhaps?’
Richard grinned. ‘You could say that.’
‘You are welcome too, Meg Lytton.’ John Dee turned to me, smiling. His strange pale eyes searched my face, then he nodded as though I had spoken. ‘Did you get my message when you came to Bonner’s table?’
I nodded, no longer surprised by the conjuror’s amazing gift for understanding the dark arts. ‘Invictus.’
‘Excellent. And now we meet again in corporeal form. I have calculated the stars’ positions, and the auspices are good for what you intend. But if you wish to remove the seer unharmed, as Richard’s letter suggested, then it must be tonight.’
William, who had been talking head to head with Alice, turned to stare, shocked. ‘Tonight?’
‘Mars in the eighth house inclines to an afflicted Moon tonight, suggesting a plan to deceive and attack a hidden enemy, with Jupiter on the Medium Coeli granting you good hopes of success. But only between the hours of midnight and two in the morning.’ John Dee gestured us inside the house, supremely unmoved by our horrified expressions. ‘By dawn, the Great Corrector Saturn will have clashed with Mars the warrior, and then the struggle could be won by either party.’
‘Oh, pay no attention to Master Dee,’ a deep, amused voice said from the doorway. ‘My old tutor has been predicting rain these past three nights, and not a drop has fallen from the sky. Though he may have something there about the Great Corrector, for Saturn was a tutor like himself.’
I looked up to see Master Robert Dudley himself, handsome, dark-haired and dark-eyed. He must have ridden straight here from the court after this morning’s audience with the Queen, I thought, then wondered what he and Elizabeth had been discussing in private. Not Marcus Dent, I suspected.
‘See? The ground hereabouts is dry as a bone, save for that stinking ditch where they throw out the ordure.’ Robert Dudley smiled, bowing so courteously that it disarmed me.
I could not help smiling back, and saw Richard’s frown. But Robert Dudley was very charming – I could perfectly understand Elizabeth’s attraction to him.
‘Come inside, friends,’ Robert Dudley said, and beckoned us into the house. ‘Let us sit round a table together and talk. Our time here must be of short duration, which I regret, so we will have to forget the civilities and speak swiftly. But for the Lady Elizabeth to stay too long under this roof would cause tongues to wag.’
He smiled, leading us into a narrow room that contained nothing but a long table set about with chairs, at the head of which sat Elizabeth, head bent, already studying a document with apparent fascination. The princess looked a little flushed, and did not look up when Dudley bowed, murmuring, ‘My lady.’
I wondered if they had argued. No doubt Robert Dudley was not a man who would easily give up the chase, however many times Elizabeth tried to throw him off the scent.
The table was covered with astrological charts, loose papers and books, many opened to a particular page as though for reference, an untidy jumble that reminded me of my father’s study when I was a child.
‘So,’ Robert Dudley prompted me softly, not looking at the princess again but leaning his arms on top of a large red leather-bound book, ‘do you have a plan, Meg Lytton?’
‘We attack,’ I told him, instinctively seating myself at the far end of the table opposite Elizabeth. ‘I cause a diversion, cast a spell, anything to draw the witchfinder’s men outside. Then we fight them, hopefully get inside his house and down into the cellar where he keeps his prisoners.’ I paused, a little disconcerted by the silence. ‘And rescue Cecilie.’
William was shaking his head. His tone was impatient. ‘Fire will distract them, Meg. Not a spell. Two of us could sneak in round the back, set a fire and smoke them out. A spell could too easily go wrong.’
‘And a fire won’t go wrong?’ Dee questioned him mildly.
Robert Dudley was looking down the length of the table at me, his dark eyes thoughtful. ‘And what of Marcus Dent?’
Everyone stopped talking and looked at me. My brother was frowning, Alice watching me with a scared expression, John Dee seemingly distracted by the play of sunlight reflected on the white plasterwork. Only Richard was smiling, arms folded as he leaned back in his chair, his confidence in me almost terrifying.
I looked down at the table, intimidated by so many eyes on me at once. There was an odd trail of salt on the table, left over from a recent meal by the look of it.
Slowly I drew a circle in the salt, then a cross within it, thinking out loud. ‘Marcus is not a fool. He is holding a powerful seer in that house and probably already knows we’ll be paying him a visit. The house will be ringed with defensive spells, designed to keep us out and her in. And the only quick way past a protective ring-spell is to be invited inside.’
Robert Dudley glanced sideways at Elizabeth. Their eyes met and I saw her smile, my breath catching at the look in her eyes. They were in love. So deeply in love they might as well have been alone in the room for that instant. And my heart squeezed in pain for the princess. For it was a love that could only lead to unhappiness, the kind that lasts a lifetime.
‘My lady?’ he murmured.
Elizabeth nodded, then stood up, looking at each of us in turn. ‘I have a suggestion for that. But I will need magickal help to make it work.’ She raised her brows at me. ‘Meg?’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Freakish Horrors
The two men on guard at the front entrance to Marcus Dent’s house had been leaning against the wall, one with his arms folded and eyes closed, the other talking to him conspiratorially.
Both men straightened and turned to stare at the sound of approaching horses, then glanced at each other uncertainly. The younger one disappeared into the house; the other lifted the flaming torch from the wall and held it high above his head, no doubt hoping to illuminate the street.
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