“Why not?” I asked. I held the precious bundle of cloth up to my chest.
“The ghosts of the dead queens.” He smiled, raising his eyebrows.
“Ghosts?”
“Oh, it’s all a bunch of tittle-tattle,” he said, laughing. Just more gossip. Come on, come with me.”
How I wanted to. I did. There was so much I wanted to ask him of court, the treasures of the Wardrobe, and most importantly, the queen. And he, indeed, seemed the sort more than willing to talk. I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “My maid is not feeling well today. I must see to her.”
“Of course,” he said, bowing, obviously disappointed. “Perhaps we shall see each other soon.”
“Yes.” I watched him walk down the long hall. I smiled as he held out his hand to stroke the tapestries that lined the wall. He turned the corner, and a cold chill crept up my arms. And then a tickle on my neck, as though someone from behind blew into my ear.
“Grace?” I called involuntarily.
I opened the door and threw myself in. Anna was nowhere to be seen. I set the bundle of fabric on the floor and turned back to retrieve the books. A servant was standing there.
“God’s me, you scared me,” I said.
“I’m Anne Twiste, the laundress, come for your dirties. Lawn and linen.” I noticed that most of her teeth were gone. “What is it, miss?” she asked as I tried to catch my breath.
I poked my head past her and looked up and down the hall. It was empty. “Did you see someone, just now?” I asked.
“No, ma’am. Everyone’s getting their hair done for the banquet tonight. Where is your maid? I came earlier for your things and she was here reading on the bed. Said I must not touch your bag; there was nothing that needed laundering. I didn’t quite believe her, for I heard myself you two have just come from the country.”
“I don’t know where she is,” I answered her, looking back over my shoulder. A note lay on the bed. “But are you sure you talked to my Anna? She doesn’t read.” I picked up the note and read her barely legible scribble. She’d been invited to Lady Ludmore’s for the evening.
“Aye, I told myself it was indeed quite queer, a maid reading a journal,” the laundress continued, “and so uppity I thought she were, not answering me at first, so enthralled she was in her reading. Then it came to me that she’s deaf, deaf as a dead rat, is she not?”
I started to shut the door. “One more thing, if I may, miss,” she said, stopping the door with her foot. “Tell her to stay away from my sweet Oliver. He’s very much the tenderhearted sort, and his eyes are easily turned by a pretty girl.”
“You will have no trouble from her, I assure you,” I said.
“Yes, yes, I told myself the same thing I did,” Anne Twiste said, and I realized I could count her teeth. She had but five. “For she’s not long for this world, is she? I know of a potion, I do, for you see while I stir my great pots of cleaning, I have other pots going, you see. All kinds of cures. Anything for a coin.”
“Are there ghosts in our hall?” I asked Dorothy Broadbelt as I sipped my wine at the banquet that evening. The banquet was in honor of a visiting courtier from Scotland, Sir James Melville. He’d been sent by Mary, Queen of Scots, to look over Robert Dudley, Queen Elizabeth’s suggested bridegroom for her cousin. Strolling musicians moved between the long tables set up in the magnificent hall. The queen’s table was raised on a small platform, and she called up her favorites one by one to sit with her. Currently she sat between Robert Dudley and Sir Melville, alternately turning her head and batting her eyes with great measure at each of them.
“Ghosts?” Dorothy laughed, her hearty, horsey laugh and I noticed a mark at the base of her neck. A love mark, Grace called them, when a man, like a dog, has nipped at a woman. “Not that I’ve ever heard of,” she continued. “Who’s been jesting with you? One of the maids said she saw you talking with a yeoman. I must warn you, alluring as you are, it’s very dangerous at court. You don’t want to be taken advantage of.”
“It was only Nicholas Pigeon,” I said as I watched the queen. Tonight she wore a French gown of tawny-colored satin. It was embroidered all over with tiny knots, clouds of gold, and furred along the cuffs with sable. Her hair was styled high in a heart shape around her head and I wondered if there were “rats” in there as Maisy had described. The queen touched Robert Dudley’s cheek with her fan. James Melville frowned.
“Nicholas Pigeon?” Dorothy snorted. “Don’t believe a word he says. He’s the worst of the flirts and not the smartest sort, either. And lord’s me, he’s ambitious. And ambition and naïvety are an unlucky pair for a man at court, my papa says. But not for a woman. I shall do as I please, as long as I find a suitable husband. If Anne Russell can aim high, so shall I.”
“I see,” I said. “Nicholas has an equal opinion of you. He seems to think you have been visiting the kitchen.” And who could blame her? The most wondrous dishes I’d ever seen lined our table. Roast beef, partridge, pheasants, salmon poached in rosemary, venison, artichokes, turnips, even a salad with beautiful violets that one could eat. I picked one up and twirled it around.
Dorothy blushed as red as the wine. “Why, he’s lying, the fool. Flat lying. He used to pay me his addresses, you see. Jealous, he must be. I don’t know any young men in any of the kitchens,” she said, her hand rising to her neck. “Sometimes I’m sent there when the queen requests a sweet. But I don’t even deign to look at any of them. Not one,” she insisted as she bit into a strawberry that was heavily sugared and fashioned into a little goose.
“Well, I do have to say Nicholas Pigeon was right on one account. I did feel something. Something was there.”
“Could have been Lady Mary Sidney, Dudley’s sister,” Dorothy said, lifting her goblet up high to be filled by a passing server. “She creeps about in the night.”
“Why?”
“She used to be a senior lady of the bedchamber. But two years ago the queen came down with the pox and Lady Sidney nursed her, never leaving her side. She came down with the pox herself, of course. Disfigured, poor thing. Her own husband rejected her, as most men would. Lady Sidney spends most of the time in the country but occasionally she comes to court, at the queen’s request. No one ever sees her, except the queen, who’s quite loyal to those who have been good to her.”
My hand flew up to my cheek, thinking of the poor poxed woman. Dorothy continued, “Your hair is awful tonight. I suggest you replace your maid.” She sipped from her goblet as one of the musicians, playing his lute, passed behind her.
“No, I can’t do that. She’s very special to me,” I said as I watched the queen, who was now presenting her hand to Melville.
“Do you know of Anne Twiste?” I took a slow sip of the hot wine. It tasted faintly of almonds, ginger, and something else—perhaps honey. It reminded me of a delicious drink Frances Pea made at revels for us when we were children. I closed my eyes. But why think of our vale when I was surrounded thus? Then I noticed Katherine Knevit and Mary Shelton across the table, skewering me with their eyes. They whispered to each other and I looked away.
“The laundress?” Dorothy continued. “Of course. Seek her for any female problem. Not that I have, I tell you. And Oliver Twiste, adorable! I’d go for him myself if I’d dare to sink so low.” She burped.
“So tell me, Melville,” the queen said now, projecting her voice. “Who has the lovelier hands? Me or your queen?”
Melville coughed. “Why, you, Your Majesty. You, of course.”
The queen laughed merrily. “And who is taller?” She turned and stroked Dudley’s chin.
Melville appeared to bite his lip. “Queen Mary, Your Majesty, is quite tall.”
The queen frowned petulantly and rapped Melville on the head playfully.
“But you are lovelier,” he stuttered.
The queen laughed. “Aye, so they do have wise men in Scotland, if not wise women.”
“What is she about?” I whispered to Dorothy. “Does
she really mean to marry Robert to her cousin?”
“Who knows,” Dorothy said, watching, I now noticed, one of the servers intently. He was quite handsome, although short. His eyes never veered her way, and this seemed to vex her greatly. “One ambassador said the queen has a thousand little devils in her. For you see, she has all the ambassadors swinging on cords, she does. She’s the craftiest woman you’ll ever meet, and smart girls like us have much to learn from her.” Still her eyes did not move from the server.
“Do you think she really loves him? Dudley?”
“Oh yes. We’ve all seen the two kissing, and more, although we do believe she intends to remain chaste. Although she recently gave him apartments next to hers. He’s constantly entering, I hear, when she’s not quite dressed. But I don’t believe she’ll ever marry him. He is just her horseman. And there is the stain of his wife’s blood on his hands, you see, too. His poor wife, Amy, was found at the bottom of three steps with her neck broken. He was at court at the time, but the world believes his hand was in it.”
“And what is so interesting, Dorothy Broadbelt, chattermouth? Hmm?” the queen called across from her table.
All eyes turned on us, and the handsome server dropped his tray. It clanged across the wooden floor.
Dorothy closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath. “I was just telling Katherine how you have a thousand little angels inside you, Your Majesty.”
“See what a petticoat buys me, Melville? Pretty words. Ah, I do like pretty words. Katherine, my pet,” she called to me. “Come sit near me and tell me a story. You, Melville, go sit with our Dorothy, who will fill your ear with much empty talk.” Dorothy turned red. All eyes seemed to be on me as I rose slowly from my place.
When I sat down again she said, “And where is your handsome Spaniard?”
“I assure you he is not mine, Your Majesty,” I said lowly as others strained to hear.
“Oh yes. You shall never have children, I believe were your words. And if that be so, I should advise you to never take a husband, for the two go hand in hand.” She pushed the food around on her plate, seeming to eat very little. “But we are in like mind, are we not?” she continued. “I think I shall not marry either.” Dudley dropped his gilt spoon. “Even so, tell your Spaniard to come to court. It’s insulting for a lord to be in London and not pay his respects to me.” She clapped her hands to the musicians to come to her. “Now, tell me, Spirit,” and a strange cold shiver ran down to my toes, “for that’s what I have decided to call you. Tell me a good tale.”
The queen has finally chosen between two loves—that of her husband and that of her stepdaughter, the Princess Elizabeth. And alas, she has chosen her husband, her love blinding her to the depths of his true deception. The princess and her retinue are to leave at once, after Whitsuntide, and good riddance, for the princess is a cunning girl, the likes I’ve never seen. But it was her governess who pulled the strings like a Cheapside puppeteer on the whole sordid affair, I tell you. The queen, being the regal lady she is, continues a warm friendship with the princess, and not a cold word has been spoken between the two, although there is a strange undercurrent, a lingering of bad will, since both women know the truth of each other, as women oft do. It’s men that are mysteries never to be solved. Today, before the princess climbed into her carriage, the queen slipped a small, gold ring on her finger, a ring she often wore, a gift from her own husband. And as the carriages pulled away, Agnes said to me, “And not a moment too soon, for I hear it be not long before a babe show itself beneath her kirtle.” And I thought I should faint, so ill I myself was, and now Agnes has guessed my secret too, and swears she will not speak a word of it. Although she says she thinks she shall murder the admiral, who she rightly guessed was the father. I pray everyone’s attention will turn to the Lady Jane Grey, who will come to us soon.
CHAPTER 18
Anna was waiting for me when I returned to our chambers. She was standing at the window in her night shift, peering out into the dark night. I went over to her and put my hands on her shoulders.
I turned her chin to me. “Wren, I’m sorry I’ve neglected you.” She turned her head and continued to look out the window. She pressed her forehead against the glass.
“I miss her, Kat,” Anna said softly, looking back at me. “Can you believe that? My whole life, I think, I wished to be free, for someone to love me. And now that she’s gone, I truly do miss her.”
“You’re missing home,” I said. “Blackchurch Cottage and…” Christian. Perhaps that’s whom she missed most. Did I miss him? I would not think of it.
I walked to the bed and sat down. Earlier in the day I’d pored through the books Blanche Parry had given me. Oh, indeed they were wondrous—full of engravings of creatures and things I’d never seen—sea monsters, and fish of the tropics, and lions and pagodas and exotic flowers. I’d already started a sketch for the queen’s gown: a series of intertwined orchids amongst exotic creatures and birds, and in the middle a grand lion, with a golden-red flamed mane.
“Have you looked for her?” Anna asked as she glanced over my shoulder. She showed little interest in my drawing. When we were children she would pull the drawings from my hands, she was so excited.
I looked up so she could see my lips. “Who?”
She sighed. “Mrs. Eglionby,” she replied. “But I suppose your head has already been turned by the riches of the court.”
I laughed. “But of course it has, little Wren. I cannot even begin to tell you what I’ve seen. The Lady Wessex had on a brooch tonight in the shape of a ship, its hull a huge oblong-shaped pearl bigger than I’ve ever imagined. And the queen, you should have seen what the queen wore tonight. I’ve never beheld such workmanship.”
Anna’s attention returned to the window. “He’s to come for you tonight. In the garden. He has something of importance to tell you,” she said.
“Christian?” I asked. “You’ve heard from Christian?” My heart, to my surprise, was fluttering.
Anna frowned. “Lord Ludmore,” she said. “Look. I see him by the rosebushes. He waits for you as we speak.”
I walked to the window and peeked over her shoulder. Indeed. Someone was there.
A few moments later, walking quietly, keeping in the shadows, I climbed down the stairs. I crept out into the garden, hugging my arms. The smell of roses, the queen’s favorite, lingered in the air. And then, just as I spotted a couple kissing behind a filbert tree, a hand reached out and pulled me farther into the darkness.
Before I could scream, he turned me toward him and put his finger to his mouth. “Shhh.” Rafael. It was Rafael.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him.
“What are you doing here, a young maid unescorted in these gardens of passion?”
“Anna told me to come to you,” I said, lifting my chin.
“It seems you didn’t have to be much persuaded.” He smiled then like a wolf, his white teeth showing in the dark.
I pushed away from him, but he pulled me close and kissed me. It only lasted but a few seconds. And much to my own embarrassment, he was the first to pull away. We stood in the darkness staring at each other, so close, so very close.
“Why didn’t you slap me?” he asked after a moment.
“I don’t know,” I said, thinking of what Blanche Parry had read in my palms. “Are you disappointed?”
“No,” he said. His head dipped and he kissed me again.
“Is that it?” I asked, breaking away. “Is this why I’m here? For you to seduce me?”
“Yes,” he responded.
“But Anna said it was something important,” I said.
“Hmmm,” he said. “Whatever it was, I’ve forgotten it now.”
“Well, you can tell me the day after tomorrow,” I said. “The queen wants to see you. You’ve insulted her by your absence. There’s to be an outdoor amusement. And you are to come.”
“Perhaps,” he teased.
“We shall not los
e you to the queen, shall we?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Rest assured I will not fall under her spell,” he said. “Have you?”
“I adore her,” I answered. “I always have, I think.”
He pulled away, his face unreadable in the shadows. “Soon.” And then he was gone. As I crept back to the palace, Dorothy Broadbelt appeared next to me on the path, leaves tangled in her hair. I pulled one out and handed it to her.
“Well, now,” she said, pulling a rose petal from my own hair. She inhaled it languidly before handing it to me. “You are not so innocent either, are you?”
The next morning I found Anna had risen early and transferred my pattern expertly to the fabric.
“It will be beautiful,” she said, her voice flat when I admired it. “The queen will be much pleased when you are finished.”
“Yes,” I answered, noticing for the first time an addition in the corner. A small wolf under a tree, actually very finely drawn with a determined hand. It added a mysterious edge to the work.
I looked up at her as she busied herself retrieving my needles and threads. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“What message did Rafael have for you?” she asked quietly after a moment. She watched my lips, waiting for my answer.
“I don’t think there was a message,” I answered, trying hard not to hide my smile. I instead bit my lip.
She rolled her eyes. “Is he pursuing you?” she asked.
“It seems so,” I answered, taking a needle from her. I looked down at the fabric. The most logical beginning would be to stitch in the background first. Oh, but I was drawn to the lion. It was there I would start, on its beautiful mane.
“I’d have a care, Kat, I would. For I don’t think he wants you,” Anna said. My sweet Anna, never had an unkind word crossed her lips.
I ran my fingers over the soft fabric. I waited a minute before asking. “What do you mean?”
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