by Mary Hooper
He burst out laughing. ‘There are many who plot to harm Her Grace, but I don’t think Mistress Juliette is one.’ He picked up my hand and kissed it, looking at me playfully. ‘Lucy – dear Mistress Lucy – can it be that you are as green as the clothing I wear today?’
I snatched my hand back. ‘No, Sir! It’s not jealousy that afflicts me.’
‘Then I think some springtime sickness is upon you.’
‘The only springtime sickness is on your part! The lady is false –’ the feeling was strengthening as I spoke ‘– and the fact that you can’t see this was probably caused by an over-indulgence in hearts, sonnets and flowers on St Valentine’s Day!’
‘But I was not at the palace that day.’
I found pleasure in this news, but did not wish to show it. ‘’Tis nothing to me, Sir, whether you were or no.’
‘I had to go away unexpectedly for Her Grace.’
‘Nevertheless, it appears to me that you are allowing your feelings for Mistress Juliette to get in the way of the truth.’
He shook his head. ‘I merely think there must be another explanation.’
‘Then for a while, we must agree to differ,’ I said stiffly.
He touched my arm. ‘I refuse to quarrel with you, Lucy. I’m the queen’s fool, here to make people laugh. And today is the first day of spring and a cause for celebration.’
‘In truth it is,’ I agreed. I swallowed hard and managed to smile, for I didn’t want him to see how hurt I was. ‘But before you recommence your duties, Tomas, speak to me of the queen and how she fares. Someone told me that she has signed a certain death warrant …’
He nodded. ‘She has been persuaded to do so, for ’tis certain that Mary of Scotland desires the English throne and will not rest until she gets it. She sealed her fate when she put her signature to a paper which called for Her Grace’s death.’
‘Truly?’ I asked. ‘It seems foolish to put such a thing in writing.’
‘Indeed. Although Mary’s supporters say that the words were added to an innocent letter after she’d signed it.’
‘Then how does one know who to believe?’ I asked.
‘Exactly,’ he said, raising an eyebrow, and I knew he was referring to the question I’d posed over Juliette, as well as that concerning the queen’s cousin.
As far as I was concerned, however, there was no dilemma. My ma might be poor and old, but she could be trusted in what she said, and if she told me that Lady Ashe’s niece was dead, then dead she was, and this girl was an imposter.
Now I had merely to prove it.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Was the queen looking well, and was she in good heart?’ Mistress Midge asked the following day.
‘She was. And she laughed very much at the play, even though I didn’t think its intention was to be funny.’
‘Who are we to judge what is funny and what is not when a queen is present?’ said Mistress Midge. ‘If she laughed, then the play was a merry one.’
I nodded and smiled, though my heart felt heavy. Tomas hadn’t believed me! Tomas would rather believe a lady-in-waiting with long brown hair the colour of newly opened chestnuts.
‘Did the queen have a suitor with her?’ Mistress Midge wanted to know.
‘She had several,’ I said. I ticked off on my fingers, ‘Sir Francis Drake, Sir Christopher Hatton and a Spanish prince all wanted to sit beside her during the play, but they say she is not enamoured of any of them.’
‘There!’ Mistress Midge said with satisfaction. ‘She’s her own woman, that one. She’ll never dance to a man’s tune!’
‘But the word is that she’s accepted Drake’s Diamond as a gift from Sir Francis,’ I said, ‘and all are talking of his generosity, for the stone is extremely rare – and worth a king’s ransom!’
‘Taking precious jewels is one thing,’ said Mistress Midge, ‘taking a man’s hand in marriage quite another.’
‘Was Mr James there?’ Sonny wanted to know. ‘He’s a funny cove, he is. You could hide a badger in his beard.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, he was there.’
‘Well! Acting in plays! Whatever will you do next, Miss?’ Mistress Midge asked. And on my shrugging my shoulders, added, ‘Still, you may as well go off while you can, because when the master and mistress arrive, that’ll be an end to all your jaunting.’
I sighed. ‘I won’t be acting with the Queen’s Players for a good few days, because the whole company are removing to a house in Oxford to give some private performances.’
‘Ah! Then you’ll be able to help me sell sugar mice,’ said Mistress Midge.
‘I will, and gladly.’ I nodded. Selling sugar mice would provide me with just the excuse I needed to go to Whitehall – and once there, I was going to brave all to try and discover the truth about Juliette.
The previous day the painters had finished in the room that would be Dr Dee’s study (it was a tenth the size of his room in Mortlake, so couldn’t really be called a library), and I spent the rest of that morning taking in his precious books and stacking them around the room as neatly as I could, ready for him to put on the new shelves as he pleased. The kitchen had already been cleared, scrubbed and had had shelves erected, and Mistress Midge was concentrating on putting this room to rights so that when the Dee family arrived the household would carry on as before: Mistress Midge would run the house and do the cooking, I would care for the children, and Mistresses Dee and Allen would shuffle about doing whatever it was they usually did to pass their days. As for Dr Dee and Mr Kelly, I presumed that as well as continuing their never-ending search for the philosopher’s stone, they would offer a service for those London folk who wanted to have their dreams analysed, their horoscopes cast or their lost treasures hunted for, and perhaps there would be more customers than there had been at Mortlake.
After dinner Mistress Midge baked and sugared a deal of mice and, after helping her with the whiskers and noses, Sonny and I set off to Whitehall Palace with a batch of them on a tray. The open square was busy with people milling about in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the queen, and we marvelled greatly as a grandly dressed lady went past us borne on a litter, her bearers running at full tilt through the crowd, waving handbells. There were also many novelties to be seen that day: a dancing dog, a man eating fire and another carving a statue from a block of ice as well as the many ordinary street-sellers crying oysters, garlic, mousetraps or sugared rose petals.
‘There seems to be almost as many sideshows here as at Bartholomew Fair,’ I said to Sonny.
‘Aye, there are, Missus,’ he said. He was intent on what he called ‘tidying’ the tray of mice, which meant he would eat any mice which looked lopsided or uneven (and if there weren’t any, would nibble one or two until they were).
‘Sonny, I have a mind to get right inside the palace and see what I can see,’ I said, drawing a gasp from him. If, I thought, I could discover where the ladies-in-waiting lodged, then it might be possible to get into Juliette’s chamber and garner some evidence against her; some proof that she wasn’t who she said she was.
‘Go inside the palace!’ Sonny looked at me, aghast. ‘’Tis said that curiosity killed the cat, Missus! By your leave, I’ll not go with you.’
‘No, you stay here,’ I said, for I had no intention of getting him into danger and possibly taken back to Christ’s Hospital. ‘I’ll leave you in the square to sell the rest of the mice. Can I trust you not to eat too many more?’
‘No, you cannot,’ he said stoutly. ‘’Tis too much temptation to put in the way of a growing lad.’
‘Then I trust you not to eat more than six!’ I gave him the tray – but took off two, which I wrapped in a fold of paper I had brought for just this purpose. ‘Wait for me here in the square,’ I told him. ‘I’ll be back before an hour is gone.’
‘Suppose you don’t ever come back?’
I assured him that I would, went across the square and through part of the coaching yard. I then did a very d
ainty curtsey to one of the guards standing in a doorway, held up my little package and said I was sister of one of the laundresses, named Barbara, and I’d brought her two gingerbread mice from home.
Yawning, he pointed me along a stone passageway and I went down this, passing through some open spaces, along narrow corridors and up and down steps. He didn’t accompany me, so I was able to stop every so often to ask directions, and I also fixed some of the things I passed in my mind so that, if I had to, I’d be able to get out in a hurry. As I went along I observed a great number of people of all ages, shapes, sizes and professions, every one of them going about their duties and none paying the slightest attention to me.
After getting lost several times I found myself in the royal laundries, and arrived at a light and spacious pressing room, with piles of freshly ironed sheets and towels upon wooden pallets. These had sprigs of lavender scattered between the layers, imparting a sweet and delicate aroma to the air. There were several girls here either pressing garments or heating up irons on a range, also a most ingenious machine in which I observed bed and table linens being folded and pressed flat. Here I found Barbara in front of a window, examining some lace with a younger girl.
‘Excuse me, are you Barbara?’ I asked, although of course I knew full well who she was.
She didn’t know me, however. Not as I was then. ‘I am, it please you,’ she said, looking at me curiously.
‘Then I have something for you.’ I held out my small offering. ‘My brother bade me bring you these.’
She moved away from the window and peered inside the paper and then looked at me curiously. ‘Do I know your brother?’
I took a deep breath, just like the one Mr James had instructed me to take before I went on to the stage. ‘He’s an actor with the Queen’s Players and has also worked here in the stables as an ostler.’
She frowned, looking at me closely.
‘He told me you were very nice to him, and might consent to do me a favour.’
Her face suddenly lightened. ‘I see the resemblance now! Your brother’s name is Luke, is it not?’
‘It is.’ I was lying and had been taught that to do so was wicked, but as I was only doing it to aid Her Grace, surely I might be forgiven, I thought.
She blushed pink, took my hand and led me into a little antechamber, saying, ‘If I can help you, then I will.’
I took another breath. ‘I cannot tell you all the details of my undertaking, but first let me tell you that I mean no harm to the queen, nor to anyone who loves her.’
‘This all sounds of some import,’ she said curiously. ‘What might the favour be?’
‘I have to discover whether one who is close to the queen is a true friend to her or not.’
‘You are a spy?!’ she asked, suddenly excited.
‘I’m not of Sir Francis Walsingham’s band,’ I said, smiling, but she looked so disappointed that I added, ‘but I suppose I am a spy of a type.’
‘And what do you want from me?’
‘I don’t want to incriminate you in any way,’ I said, speaking very serious now, ‘so I’m not going to tell you what is behind this request. I merely want to borrow a laundress’s cap and apron, and to be told where I may find the bedchambers of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.’ On her gasping, I added quickly, ‘I promise you on my life that I mean no hurt or disrespect to anyone loyal to the queen!’
She asked in a whisper, ‘Your brother was asking about Mistress Juliette. Is it her whom you seek?’
‘It is.’
‘I thought it was because he had a mind to woo her!’
I smiled. ‘I can assure you that that was the last thing on his mind.’
‘Then I’ll help you. Our clean aprons and caps are kept there,’ she said, pointing to a monstrously sized cupboard, ‘and I have the very excuse for you, for sometime in the afternoon one of us has to go around the apartments of the ladies-in-waiting and change their washstand cloths.’
‘Then today, by your leave, that can be me,’ I said. ‘And are you able to tell me where to find the room of the lady we have spoken of?’
Barbara shook her head. ‘Telling you the way would be impossible, for there are hundreds of rooms here and you’d never find your way.’ As my heart sank, she added, ‘It would be best if I took you there myself.’
‘I don’t want to put you in any danger.’
‘You won’t,’ she said. ‘The guards are used to me and if I’m accompanying a new servant, they’ll think nothing of it.’
I squeezed her hand. ‘Thank you a hundredfold! If what I suspect is true, then those who are close to Her Grace may also thank you.’
‘And your brother?’ she asked, smiling.
I smiled back, though it jolted my conscience to do it. ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘He too.’
Barbara tied my apron correctly, set my cap upon my head and piled my arms high with sheets and towels so that I could duck behind them if necessary. We set off briskly along the passageways, with me keeping to my plan to try and remember the way whenever possible. This was difficult, however, because the palace was beyond large, stretching in all directions and seeming to be the size of a village.
For three quarters of our journey along the passageways we were in the servants’ quarters, with stone underfoot and the walls bare of all but rusty candle-holders and spots of damp and mould. When Barbara opened a door lined in green baize, however, we entered a higher realm, for here there were clean rushes on the floor and expensive Turkey carpets, and tapestries and painted canvases on the walls. The candleholders here were of brass, and the candles proper wax instead of cheap tallow.
‘We are now in the quarters of the queen’s ladies,’ Barbara said, after going through several doors. ‘A little further are the chambers of the maids of honour, and then the apartments of the queen. And here …’ she said meaningfully, pointing in turn to three doors ahead of us ‘… are the rooms of Mistresses Penelope, Vivien and Juliette.’
I mouthed a silent thank you and said that she should go now.
‘I will wait beyond the green door,’ she whispered. ‘Take care.’
I watched her retreat down the corridor. I knew I was on dangerous ground now; that if it was discovered that I was there under false pretences, being found in the quarters of the queen’s ladies was probably a treasonable offence. Fearful as this thought was, however, I was sure in my own mind that Juliette was not who she claimed to be. If she posed a danger to the queen, then it was only right and proper that I should try to expose her.
It was, as far as I knew, about three o’clock, so the ladies-in-waiting would be in the needlework room with the queen, or perhaps listening to a minstrel in one of the music rooms. I tapped at the first two doors. No reply came from either, so I went inside and changed each lady’s washcloth from the pile I carried. I then tapped at the door to Juliette’s chamber and, as before, there was no reply. I knocked again and, leaving the door open behind me, went in, my stomach a hollow of fear.
It was a small room, its walls prettily decorated with painted-on trellises bearing full-blown roses which looked so realistic that you could almost imagine you were standing in a garden. There was a four-poster bed draped in soft muslins, several velvet-covered stools and a line of hooks holding Juliette’s gowns. There was a dressing table with a circular mirror in a wooden frame, a silver-topped hair comb and matching silver jar, a deep wooden jewellery box and a leather writing folder. There was also a painted washstand on which two towels hung. Neither looked as if it had been used, but I changed them nonetheless, for they were my reason for being there.
My eyes scanned across the room; what was I looking for?
Under my breath I cursed a little at my own rashness. Had I really expected Juliette to be careless enough to keep something in her room that could get her hanged? Walsingham and his spies were everywhere, so surely an enemy of the queen would not take any chances of being discovered.
I took two steps across the
soft rug to the wooden box and, shifting the pile of towels to one arm, lifted the lid. This was a girl who loved jewellery, I knew, and to confirm this a huge array of jewels of different colours met my eyes: brooches, necklaces, bangles, rings and a tangle of pearls and gold chains. I was not an expert on such things but, at a glance, it didn’t seem to me that any had great value, for if they had, surely they would be under lock and key, and not left in such disarray.
My eyes went past the box to the leather folder. I couldn’t hope that she’d left anything obviously damning in there, but it might, perhaps, contain a secret compartment – and as soon as I’d satisfied myself on this point, I’d go. The whole undertaking had been dangerous and stupid. I’d have to find some other way of proving that Juliette wasn’t Lady Ashe’s niece.
I opened the folder. It contained several letters, but they were in Latin, that strange language that Dr Dee sometimes wrote in. They could have been incriminatory, but if they were there was no way of telling. Disappointed, I replaced them. And then, before I could look for any secret compartments, I heard a scream behind me.
‘A thief! A thief in Mistress Juliette’s room! Guards, come quickly!’
Chapter Sixteen
I thanked providence that I had the wit to keep turned away from whoever had shouted. I raised the pile of towels I carried so that my face was concealed, gave this person (a stout maidservant, I thought) a push to the shoulder that knocked her sideways on to the bed, then picked up my skirts and ran out of the door and down the corridor. The guards, luckily, were coming the other way, from the apartments of the queen. They had not yet turned the corner, but I could hear their footfall and the metallic clanking of their breastplates and halberds.
‘Guards, quickly!’ I heard shouted from Juliette’s room. ‘Catch her!’
I ran on and didn’t stop to look behind me. After, perhaps, twenty paces, the corridor divided to right and left with, on the facing wall, a large Venetian mirror, possibly placed so that the ladies-in-waiting could check their appearance on the way to a Court gathering. I saw my reflection, a blur of white as I passed, then pounded on, exhibiting much more vigour than is seemly for a girl.