by April White
I swung down from the rafter and dropped the last eight feet to the floor. Ringo followed right behind me. “What are ye doin’?”
“I need to talk to Elizabeth. She Saw you both in that room with Wilder, but she Saw it from a different perspective.”
Ringo put a hand out to stop me. “Ye can’t just—“
“We have to find that room, Ringo. And I won’t wait for him to take you there. I can’t.”
“Ye just said the vision’s true, and now ye’re on about changin’ it?”
“It’s possible. But it hasn’t happened yet, so there’s still time to do something. But I need to know what Elizabeth Saw.”
The Garden
Ringo left me just inside the door to the queen’s apartment while he went to talk to her. She sat on a low bench by a window reading a small book while her ladies gathered near her with their embroidery. Except for Ringo leaning over to whisper in Elizabeth’s ear, it could have been a painting in a museum. She looked over to where I stood and said something to her ladies, then got up and glided across the room to me. She was so pale her skin was almost translucent.
“We can speak in Ringo’s chamber.” Elizabeth’s voice was quiet and sounded as weary as she looked.
Ringo joined us and closed the door between the rooms. He stayed back, but I knew he could hear everything we discussed. “Ringo said you Saw him in a vision with yourself and a bishop.”
The weariness disappeared from her voice, and it was replaced by something sharp. “The vision in which your friend is tortured, you mean?”
I winced. “That one.” Elizabeth’s gray-eyed stare dared me to look away. I didn’t take her dare. “Did you see Bishop Wilder hide a document in the room?”
“I did.”
“Do you know where the room is?”
“I do not.”
I held back my impatience with her curt answers. “I need to find that room.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It is only a matter of time before we visit the place. Whether either of us will be able to reveal its location in the aftermath is another question.”
“That’s the point. We need to find it before you go. We need that document.”
“Why?”
“I believe it’s a confession they forced Wyatt to sign naming you a conspirator in his rebellion.”
Storm-gray eyes studied me as if she was pulling apart every thought in my head. What she was looking for I didn’t know, but I felt dissected.
“It won’t change anything.”
“It will change everything if that document gets out.”
The weariness was back on her face. “No matter how many times I look, the sword is still committed to its course.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “At least my sister has the grace to afford me the sword.”
Like her mother. It’s what she didn’t say. Henry VIII sent for a French executioner so Anne Boleyn’s head could be removed by the sharp and accurate sword rather than the dull, less precise axe everyone else got. I stared at Elizabeth.
“You truly believe you’re going to die here?”
A sad smile played at the corner of her mouth but was gone so fast I thought I imagined it. “And a virgin, no less.”
“Not if Dudley has a say.” I mumbled it under my breath, but Elizabeth grabbed at the words with both hands.
“You’ve seen Robin?”
I looked her squarely in the eyes. There was no point in dodging. “Last night. He’s in love with you.”
Something happened then that explained everything about her lifetime of incredible power over an entire country, maybe even all of Europe. Her face transformed. There’s no other explanation for the glow that shone through her skin, gleamed in her eyes, emanated from the red-gold hair framing her face. In the space of a breath, Elizabeth Tudor transformed from prisoner to … goddess. She was stunning.
“He loves me?” The hope and uncertainty in her voice broke my heart.
“He burns with it.” It was the only way to describe the fever he had for her. And the way she looked in that moment, she was probably in danger of the same thing.
She clutched my arm and my skin practically fused to hers. “Take me to him.”
“Are you kidding? That’s all the excuse Wilder would need to get you in his clutches.”
She shrugged as if Wilder meant nothing to her. “I need to see Robin. Please, Saira. I must know that part of being a woman before they take it from me.”
It was so far beyond the realm of bad ideas it was like it had sprung from my own head. The pleading in Elizabeth’s eyes turned hard so suddenly it made me dizzy, and when she took a step back from me I felt cold.
“Take me to him, and I’ll give you my vision.”
The woman was a witch. That much was totally clear. Whether she was a good witch or a bad witch was the question skipping through my brain in Glinda’s tinkling voice.
“I can’t take you there until nighttime, and that’s when Lurch … I mean Alvin … guards you.”
She looked at me speculatively, then reached for my braid. I willed myself not to flinch back from her fingers as they quickly unbound my hair. She looked at Ringo.
“Get Courtney. Ask her for my lace cap – the one shot through with pearls.” She looked critically at me. “And my blue cloak with the fox collar.”
Ringo was gone for barely a minute before he and Courtney returned with the cloak and cap. In the meantime, Elizabeth had finger-combed my hair until it hung down my back in loose waves from the braid. She wrapped the cloak around my shoulders and closed it in front so my dress was invisible underneath. As she fixed the lace cap to the back of my head, she finally looked me in the eyes.
“Be me. In public. Go for a walk in the gardens. Courtney always accompanies me when I stroll the grounds. You and I are of a height, and when your hair is unbound the color is similar enough they will assume it is me.”
I shook my head. “We don’t look anything alike. The guards will know I’m not you in two seconds.”
She smiled slowly. “They fear me. No one comes close, and if they did approach, pull your hood around your face and Courtney will glare with all the fierceness of a terrier. She excels at keeping undesirable company at bay.”
I looked at the petite blonde lady-in-waiting, and she smiled politely. The barest hint of a canine tooth stuck out on one side of her mouth, and I suddenly wondered if she didn’t actually have terrier in her.
“How will you get to Dudley’s cell if I’m in the garden impersonating you?”
Elizabeth shot me one of those looks that had a ‘duh’ sound effect attached. “Ringo will take me, of course.”
“He didn’t come with me last night.”
“Top floor, Beauchamp tower. Fourth room down the east hall.” Ringo’s easy voice drawled through the sharp spaces between us. I tore my eyes away from Elizabeth to stare at him. He shrugged. “What else am I goin’ to do when ye and his Lordship sleep?” I narrowed my eyes, but I knew him too well to imagine I could ever intimidate him into making the safe choices. He grinned at me. “And ye do look a bit like Milady. Enough to pass from a distance. Especially with that angle ye both hold yer chins, like ye’d happily have my hide for a pair of boots.”
“It’s settled then. Courtney, take Saira to the gardens, but leave through the kitchen door where Peterson lurks. Then Ringo and I will follow the moment he has gone with you.”
“And I’m supposed to just waltz past Peterson like I’m you?”
Elizabeth smiled. “As Ringo said, it is all a matter of bearing. Walk like a king’s daughter and that is all they will see.”
Easy for her to say.
But she wasn’t wrong.
Courtney got us past Peterson with a flirty smile and an innocent question while I walked ahead to the gardens. Once inside the gate, I dropped the hood on Elizabeth’s cloak and let my long gold-tinged hair be my disguise. My color wasn’t the same as hers, but maybe in the overcast gray light it was close
enough. After a few minutes Courtney joined me, asking ‘Milady’ in a loud voice what she could help me find.
“Actually, I’m looking for arnica, St. John’s wort, and if there’s any lavender left from the fall, that would be great.”
Courtney looked speculative. “For a tea?”
I shook my head. “Medicinal salve.”
“I suppose it is well to anticipate the effects of torture. Milady has never yet been wrong.”
I stared at her, then realized she must be talking about Elizabeth’s vision of Ringo. Her words gave me a chill, and I tried to shake the feeling of dread that was starting to settle around my shoulders.
Rosemary and juniper were easy enough to find. I discovered the tiniest heads of chamomile shooting through the first spring growth, and Courtney came back to me with an apron-full of arnica and St. John’s wort. I knew the lavender was a longshot, and marjoram was pretty much out of the question that time of year, but after killing an hour in the garden I had almost everything that I needed.
“Does Milady have any almond oil in her chambers?”
“No, they didn’t let us pack more than her personal clothing. I’ll see if I can trade for some with Peterson though.”
I looked down at Courtney in surprise. She was so fiercely protective of her Mistress I forgot she was tiny until I stood right next to her. “What would you trade?”
Her smile verged on wicked. “A kiss, of course.”
I barely suppressed a shudder. “You’d do that?”
Her raised eyebrow made the grin even scarier. “I have been experimenting with a powder made from ground apple pips, but of course have had no one to try it on. If I coat my own lips with wax first, then the powder, and of course, don’t swallow any pieces, I should remain unaffected. I shall need the oil first, because hopefully he will be somewhat - or maybe permanently - useless soon after I kiss him.”
Wow. This chick was a whole lot of scary in such a small package. Apple seeds? Some small part of my brain vaguely recalled the word cyanide associated with them.
We made our way back up to the Royal Apartments, and I flipped the blue hood back into place before we approached Peterson. I shouldn’t have bothered; his eyes were glued to Courtney’s flirty smile.
“I’ll be right with you Milady. I have a question I must ask Peterson first.”
I didn’t have to be told twice and was inside the kitchen door and swiping a mortar and pestle before Peterson could think to look at me. Ringo and the Lady Elizabeth weren’t back yet, so I set to work in Ringo’s room grinding up the herbs we’d gathered.
Courtney raced up to her mistress’ rooms, then popped her head in with a smirk. “He took the bait, and I do not even have to go to his quarters with him.” She shuddered theatrically. “I hate Bell Tower. It is always so numbingly cold there.” Then she held up a tiny pot of something. “Let’s see what happens.” She was gone in the next moment. The girl was on fire, and I couldn’t even imagine what her plan was. It was much better I didn’t know.
Not even five minutes later Courtney was back, triumphantly holding up a small flask of almond oil. She tossed it on the table next to me and raced from the room. When she returned, her lips were red and puffy and looked freshly scrubbed. I stared at her in shock.
“What did you just do?”
“I had to wash it off my lips before it had a chance to work its way into my mouth.”
“Is it really that toxic?”
Her smile was innocent and charming. “Peterson’s going to have a nasty bump on his head if he wakes up. The man fell like a stone.”
If he wakes up. Hopefully a person had to eat a lot of apple seeds to get a lethal dose. I tried to picture the mechanics of kissing someone without getting the stuff in one’s own mouth and gave up for lack of imagination. Or maybe experience. Courtney picked up the flask. “Will it work?”
“It’s perfect. I don’t suppose there’s a candle around?”
“I’ll be right back.”
I broke the beeswax candle she brought me into pieces, added a few drops of almond oil into the mortar, then moved the whole thing close to the fire. Courtney watched me carefully. “Did you apprentice with a midwife?”
“Who?”
“A midwife. The birthing woman?”
Oh, right. Not even on my radar. I shook my head. “I had a teacher …” I didn’t think Mr. Shaw would be easily explained, so I went with the Missus instead. “A friend of my mother’s. She lived in the woods and knew all kinds of plant lore.”
And helped Archer survive the bite of a Vampire.
The sky outside was just beginning to darken, and I’d made a promise I intended to keep.
“I have to go.”
“When Milady returns, where shall I say you are?”
I gave her a very small smile as I left the room. “Keeping my word.”
Archer stirred when I pressed my front against his back and curled around him on the bedroll. Pancho was gone somewhere, hopefully not getting himself caught, and it felt right to be there, wrapped around Archer as he woke up.
“Hello.” He rolled over and searched my face. I smiled.
“Hi.”
“You smell like honey and tea.”
“I was in the garden today. I made a salve for Pancho to take to his brother.”
Concern clouded his eyes and I tried to erase the worry. “I was with Courtney, one of Elizabeth’s ladies. And I was disguised.”
He sat up. “Disguised as whom?”
“Elizabeth.”
Archer took a deep breath, which told me he was choosing his next words carefully. I wasn’t even sure he needed to breathe, so that was something.
“You say Courtney was with you?”
“Peterson is in lust with her, so he didn’t have eyes for me at all.”
“Peterson? Oh, right. Well, that’s useful.” I was shocked into speechlessness. No ‘what were you thinking?’ or ‘don’t you know how dangerous that was?’ None of that.
“Thank you.”
“For?” He looked genuinely mystified.
“Loving me.”
He looked into my eyes for a long time before he kissed me, and his whisper was almost lost against my lips. “You’re welcome.”
And with the impeccable timing only someone named Pancho could have, he burst into the room, startling me so much I slammed into Archer’s nose with my chin.
“Pancho!” I growled at him, a little because my chin hurt, but mostly because I wasn’t ready for that kiss to end. Archer looked at me with a glint in his eye that made my cheeks flush.
“I’m not finished with that.” His whisper went through me like a shiver, and I got an instant case of butterflies. That kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It was a promise of something I didn’t know nearly enough about.
Archer stood in a graceful motion and helped me to my feet. Why was it that when I scaled a brick wall I was all feline, but when I’d just been thoroughly kissed I turned into something much more bovine?
“You’ll take me to my brother now?” Pancho was breathless. I scowled at his impatience, but Archer got to him first.
“An hour after full dark, when most of the Tower inhabitants have settled inside for the night.”
Pancho didn’t like that answer. “But she went out today. I saw her in the garden.”
“First, what I do has nothing to do with you. And second, I was getting plants to make a medicine for your brother. So shut it, okay?” I turned to Archer and let go of the edge in my voice. “I need to head back upstairs to Ringo’s rooms. I left the salve cooking away in the fireplace up there, and hopefully he and Elizabeth are back …” I shot Pancho a quick glance and decided he didn’t need to know everything. My voice dropped to a whisper. “Come with me?”
“To the ends of time.”
Now, that could have just been a Victorian saying, or some poetic thing he’d picked up in the last hundred years, but it felt very personal and very … true. My breath c
aught in my throat, and I decided then and there that I needed to know Archer Devereux for a very long time.
Archer finally tore his eyes away from mine and asked Pancho to find us some food. I knew he didn’t include himself in that “us,” but he was still maintaining the illusion with the kid that he was just like anyone else. Of course since it was Archer who did the asking, Pancho jumped right up without question. Had it been me – well, I probably wouldn’t have asked.
When Pancho was gone, Archer pulled me into a hard embrace, kissed me hungrily, and then released me so fast I gasped. “Come,” he said. “Let’s find my young brother and his princess.”
I held his arm. “Wait. You need to know some things.” I quickly filled him in on the deal I’d made with Elizabeth. Time with Dudley in exchange for her vision. I watched his face closely, looking for signs of disapproval, but he mostly just looked thoughtful.
“I suppose seeing the vision through Elizabeth’s eyes will give us an idea of how wild the goose chase we’re on has been.” He sounded speculative, and I took a bracing breath. He needed to know.
“The vision you saw was real.”
He sighed. “We’ve been through this before, Saira. There’s no way I could have seen things through Ringo’s eyes. It just isn’t possible.”
“The twins do it.”
“Ringo is the brother of my heart, not my blood.”
“You have his blood in you.”
Archer stared at me. Words seemed to have deserted him.
“You almost died when you were turning, and the animal blood the Missus fed you wasn’t enough. No one knew Ringo added his blood to the mix you had to drink. He confided in me today. He’s been afraid to tell you.”
The grinding of his jaw was the only indication that he’d even heard me. Archer seemed to control his voice when he finally spoke. “Come. We’ll find them and get her vision.”
He took my hand as we left the pages’ annex, and I was idiotically glad it wasn’t me who had done the thing Archer wrestled with this time.