By Slanderous Tongues

by Mercedes Lackey

  “No indeed. Now, since Frances is so solidly asleep and can give you no comfort, I will just sit down by you until you fall asleep.”

  “No, please go back to your bed. I am distressed over giving you so much trouble, my lady. I promise I won’t think anymore about Queen Catherine. I will never be able to sleep if I am aware that you are sitting up and watching me.”

  Denoriel added the force of his will to Elizabeth’s words and after another moment or two, Lady Denny agreed to go back to bed. Denoriel followed her to be sure she did not come up with any new ideas, like sending her maid with some drops or a tisane. When he returned to Elizabeth’s room, he found her still shaking with shock, but she refused his offer to stay with her.

  “I am too uneasy to take comfort from your company,” she said. “What if Lady Denny conceives of another notion for my comfort?”

  “That brings to mind what I said earlier, that you have houses of your own. I think it is time to set up your own household. If Kat stumbled upon us, I could muddle her memory and it would not matter. I cannot do so with Lady Denny.”

  Lady Denny unfortunately had not forgotten her guest’s distraught state, and was far too eager to distract her. Actually, after the first shock of loss, Elizabeth would have mostly forgotten the queen’s death. She was no longer accustomed to seeing Catherine every day and unless something specific brought the queen to mind she could forget Catherine was gone forever. But Lady Denny invited Elizabeth into her presence more often and for longer periods so that Elizabeth would not be alone and brood.

  Kindly, Lady Denny spoke praise of Queen Catherine and platitudes about death, constantly reminding Elizabeth of her guilt. Then she would recommend that Elizabeth ride out or play some games with her maids of honor. Elizabeth agreed docilely, but that was not sufficient for Lady Denny who must also have spoken to the maids of honor directly. They sought and found Elizabeth wherever she tried to hide and were so cheerful and uplifting that Elizabeth very nearly used bod oergeulo on them.

  Far worse than innocent distraction by her maids of honor was lying in wait for Elizabeth, however. Only a week after she had the news of Catherine’s death, Kat had said slyly, “Your old husband that was appointed unto you after the death of the king now is free again. You may have him if you will.”

  “No!” Elizabeth exclaimed, drawing back.

  Kat laughed and patted Elizabeth’s hand. “Yes,” she insisted. “You will not deny it if my Lord Protector and the Council were pleased therewith.”

  Rage and revulsion dyed Elizabeth’s normally pale cheeks red. And to Elizabeth’s horror, Kat thought she was blushing with desire and continued to talk about Thomas, how he was the noblest man unmarried in the land and thus most suitable and fitting to be Elizabeth’s husband. All Elizabeth could do was refuse and refuse again even to consider the idea.

  But Elizabeth was terrified that Kat would pass the notion that she would like to marry Thomas to Sir Anthony and Lady Denny. She forbade her to do so, saying it was dangerous to speculate on such matters, but though she loved Kat dearly, Elizabeth no longer had much trust in her governess’ discretion.

  By the end of September, despite everything Elizabeth could say, Kat was still hinting about Sir Thomas’ need for a new wife and Elizabeth’s suitability to fill that role. Denno then renewed his suggestion that Elizabeth would be safer in her own establishment and mentioned that Sir Anthony was feeling the weight of supporting Elizabeth and her household. The promptness with which the Dennys agreed to Elizabeth’s leaving them testified to the truth of Denno’s estimation of the financial burden she created, and early in October Elizabeth and her household moved to Hatfield.

  Even on the journey from Cheshunt to Hatfield, Elizabeth could not escape Thomas. John Seymour, sent by the Protector to see her safe on the road, brought a message from Thomas who begged his brother to recommend him to Elizabeth and enquire “whether her great buttocks were grown any less.”

  Rage again colored Elizabeth’s cheeks and so filled her mind that she did not dare speak at all. What message John Seymour carried back, Elizabeth did not know. She feared the worst as she settled into Hatfield but had no way to deal with the problem. She did not dare write or send a message to Thomas; that would only confirm any evil rumors. Denno tried to reach the man but could not get an audience. Thomas was too busy with schemes for ending the Protectorate and arranging for little Lady Jane Grey to marry the king, now that Princess Mary was about to be betrothed to the Dauphin of France.

  In any case, Thomas was unlikely to listen to Denno when he would not heed the warnings of far more politically astute persons, such as the venerable Lord Privy Seal. Lord Russell warned Thomas that there were rumors of his hopes of marrying either Lady Mary or Lady Elizabeth and that such rumors, and even more any attempt to make suit for such a marriage, would ruin him.

  At first Thomas denied any such intention, but not long afterward he was inquiring what portion could be expected with the ladies. When Lord Russell said it was no more than ten thousand pounds, Thomas protested violently that he knew Elizabeth had three thousand pounds a year and several estates. Lord Russell said that would end with her marriage, but Thomas did not believe him. When Elizabeth’s cofferer, Thomas Parry, came up to London on business, Thomas took the opportunity to approach him and enquire about Elizabeth’s finances and household.

  One of Parry’s errands in London was to secure a house in which she could stay when she came to visit her brother. Durham House, which was customarily given over to Elizabeth for her visits, was now being used as a mint. Thomas promptly offered Seymour Place but said that Elizabeth should have her own residence. He advised Parry to urge Elizabeth to appeal to the Protector’s wife to get Somerset to grant her a suitable town residence.

  Elizabeth, who disliked the duchess of Somerset as much as Ann of Somerset disliked her, refused to approach her although Parry insisted that Thomas had said that was the best path to solving the housing problem.

  She realized that Parry was a bit too impressed with Thomas and, with some effort, maintained a studied indifference when he asked if she would be willing to marry Thomas if the Council approved. Since she did not want any hint of strong feeling to trickle back—she had cause to know that if Thomas was rejected he would only redouble his efforts to get his own way—she did not reply “when the Lord Protector hears Mass” but only that she would do what God put into her mind.

  Strangely enough, the only one who was of any help to Elizabeth at all was the duchess of Somerset. For her own reasons the Protector’s wife was almost as horrified as Elizabeth at the idea of a marriage with Thomas. She summoned Kat Ashley and took her severely to task over freedoms she had permitted Thomas—even though they were events that had taken place the previous December when Elizabeth was at Court.

  Ann of Somerset said that Kat had failed in her duty and was not fit to be governess to so high a lady as Elizabeth; she made the attitude of the Protector clear and frightened Kat into a little common sense. To Elizabeth’s considerable relief, on her return to Hatfield Kat told Elizabeth that she should not set her mind to marriage with Thomas. Likely, Kat said, Elizabeth would have to wait until the king came of age before she could get permission to take Thomas as a husband.

  Although Elizabeth did not break into song and do a jig for joy, she was aware of a tremendous relief. And when she got Underhill that night, she did embrace Denno and whirl him around and around. He was even more pleased than she and sent off an air spirit to fetch Harry. They would go to Fur Hold, Denoriel said. Harry needed to have his spirits lifted. He had not been able to reach Rhoslyn for several weeks.

  Unfortunately Elizabeth’s care not to spark Thomas’ stubborn determination to have her was not the principal influence on him. Vidal had returned to England bloated with his successes in Scotland. He had not only destroyed any chance of peace between England and Scotland with the planned betrothal of Princess Mary and the Dauphin of France, but he had set up a goo
d chance of a civil war in Scotland between the party of Scots who wanted Mary in France against those who opposed her being raised a Catholic.

  His satisfaction over the nice trickle of power from the misery caused by the raids permitted him to brush off the failure of Aurilia’s plan to have Denoriel and Aleneil killed. He was somewhat more irritated by Seymour’s inability to get Elizabeth into bed and quite enraged by Catherine’s cleverness in preventing any scandal. Well, she would not interfere with his plans again and Seymour was now free to marry Elizabeth. Marriage was better than scandal; marriage would permanently cut Elizabeth off from the throne, whereas scandal could be covered and forgotten.

  Vidal chafed at his inability to influence Elizabeth in Seymour’s favor. He could not introduce any minion into the Denny household because Elizabeth still had the ability to see through illusion in the mortal world and any gift to her would be scrutinized for spells. He wasted some of Aurilia’s time trying to convince her to attempt an amulet that could not be detected but before he grew desperate enough to force her compliance, an imp from the village inn brought gossip that told him no amulet would be needed.

  Two maids had been gossiping about Kat Ashley, who Vidal knew had great influence over Elizabeth. Kat, it seemed, was doing his work for him, acting as Seymour’s advocate without any need of Vidal’s interference. Later gossip confirmed the fact, and Vidal decided he would not go near Kat Ashley or any other of Elizabeth’s servants nor near Hatfield when Elizabeth moved. The last thing Vidal wanted was for Denoriel or Elizabeth to sense his influence. His best move, once Ashley’s predilection for Seymour was confirmed, was to get Seymour to make an offer or even, if necessary, to abduct Elizabeth.

  Having made that decision, Vidal appeared in Otstargi’s house again. This time the servant’s mind had nothing to tell him. Some clients had called and gone away disappointed, one very angry. Indifferent, Vidal told the servant to summon a street boy and sent the messenger with a note to Seymour. He was surprised and not pleased when the child returned with another note in reply.

  It was immediately apparent that Seymour had grown very great in his own estimation. The spell in the ruby ring had barely enough control over him to send a note and agree to a meeting with Otstargi. Seymour was not a man to feel gratitude, particularly to someone so far below him in status. If he remembered that Otstargi’s advice was the foundation of his new wealth and the power he intended to establish with the men that wealth had bought, he dismissed the memory.

  Seymour’s careless note said he had an appointment with Chancellor Rich that day. He would have an available hour for Master Otstargi on the day after tomorrow just before the dinner hour. Vidal bared his filed teeth noting there was no invitation to join Seymour at dinner.

  He would teach that fool a sharp lesson, he thought. And then he spat an oath. Until Elizabeth was married to Seymour and ruined, he could not make the man less appealing by making him ridiculous nor subject him to a political gaffe by offending Rich.

  His various frustrations did not make Vidal more welcoming when Seymour arrived at Otstargi’s house at the appointed time the next day. He snarled “Sit.” And Seymour sat, but with a surprised expression that showed he had not been aware of setting out to see the magician. In fact, he started to rise again and Vidal had to gesture him down onto the chair.

  “I am not sure I need your services any longer,” Seymour said.

  “But I am sure you do,” Vidal snapped. “You are now free of your wife. Why have you made no effort to secure the Lady Elizabeth? She is now of an age to marry and if you do not move quickly, the stupid Council will find some foreign treaty they need confirmed with a royal marriage.”

  “The Council is not in favor of my marriage to Elizabeth,” Seymour growled. “And besides, I learned that she will have no more than one grant of ten thousand pounds. All the lands willed to her in her father’s last testament will return to the Crown.”

  Vidal waved a dismissive hand. “That provision was made in the case of the lady’s marriage to a foreign prince. Henry was very careful about not allowing a foreign royal house to own significant lands in England. When Elizabeth’s marriage to a good English subject is confirmed, it will be apparent to the Council that the lady must have an income suitable to her status as second heir to the Crown.”

  “Confirmed!” Seymour laughed. “The Council will not confirm our marriage. In fact, my brother has threatened to hang me if I attempt even to visit Elizabeth. Nor have I received an invitation nor a single line of writing from her since the queen’s death.” A shadow passed over Seymour’s face when he mentioned Catherine, but it was gone in a moment and replaced by an indignant petulance. “Not even a note of condolence.”

  “Perhaps the lady does not want to put herself forward. You should write first to her.”

  Vidal sent out a spear of will but he found Seymour so armored in self-assurance and conceit that shaft did not penetrate the way it should. It did make some impression but Seymour shook his head.

  “Not until I have some sign of her willingness to listen to me. Through her man, I have urged her to take certain actions to make our lands more convenient. But I do not want news of my part in her plea to exchange lands to get back to the Council …” He rambled on for a while, deflected from Elizabeth by his grievances against the Council.

  “I would not trouble my head about the Council,” Vidal urged; once Seymour had Elizabeth, Vidal would welcome the Council’s disapproval. “They are a bunch of old women. Only get Lady Elizabeth before a priest and into your bed. Surely you do not believe that the king will allow your brother to punish you or to cause grief to his best beloved and most favorite sister once you are man and wife. Remember that the king made plain his approval of your marriage to Queen Catherine although your brother was opposed to it. Remember how Edward favored Lady Elizabeth when she was at Court.”

  Seymour nodded slowly. “You may be right about that, and I have given the king some reason to love me also. Yes, it would be well for me to have Elizabeth to wife.”

  Satisfied that he had accomplished his purpose, and bored with Seymour whose mortal mind was shallow and seemed to have no room for anything other than his own affairs, Vidal relaxed the mental pressure he was applying. The man shook his head again and looked around as if surprised to find himself still in Otstargi’s room.

  “Yes,” Vidal agreed pointedly. “Once Lady Elizabeth is your wife, the way for all your other affairs will be smoother.”

  The phrase was meaningless to Vidal, only an opening to suggest that Seymour had other affairs to take care of and so be rid of him. Thomas, however, was sure that all that talk about Elizabeth had only been an introduction to Otstargi asking for his share of the money collected from Sharington and the pirates.

  He knew that Otstargi had directed him to those profitable ventures, but he was sure he had made no commitment to give any share to the magician. No, of course he had not; why should he? He had done all the work, dealt with the pirates and with Sharington. Only the idea had been the magician’s and ideas without effort do not pay in coin. In any case, he no longer had the money. It had been spent in buying support from various noblemen and in hiring armsmen.

  Before Vidal could say more, Thomas got hurriedly to his feet. “You are right. My affairs are many and pressing, and I must make an accounting of them before I can ask useful questions.”

  Vidal was a little surprised by the sudden urgency of Seymour’s move to depart, but the man’s mind held only confused ideas of the Bristol mint and mercenaries. Vidal could only assume some of his own desire to be rid of Seymour had leaked out. He also stood and gestured to the door, which was opened by the servant. And as Seymour left the room, he thrust the need for Elizabeth at him one more time.

  Thomas considered that need on his walk home and it seemed to him that if he wrote about Elizabeth’s need for a house for her visit to Court, the Council could not accuse him of wooing her. Although Vidal’s influence
was already waning, his letter to Elizabeth hinted that if she came to Court for Christmas, which was now approaching, he would be more glad to see her than any other person.

  Elizabeth received Thomas’ letter only two days after she received one from William Cecil, who was now secretary to the Protector. Cecil’s letter advised, in guarded but not obscure terms, that Elizabeth not come to Court this year. That was a bitter pill for her to swallow and she had put the letter aside without answering it, trying to convince herself that Cecil was only being overcautious.

  However when Thomas’ letter came, a chill ran over her. Cecil was not being cautious; he must have written with the Protector’s knowledge. Elizabeth could understand why Somerset did not want to forbid her visit directly; Edward would be just as disappointed as she to be deprived of their time together. And Edward already resented many of the Protector’s restrictions.

  Rage again dyed Elizabeth’s cheeks with color and her eyes filled with tears. Somerset must have heard the rumor that Thomas intended to woo her and wished to prevent any hint of a connection. How could Kat have been so foolish as to think anyone would approve the marriage of the Protector’s brother to one of the heirs to the throne. Why had no one believed her when she said, over and over, that she would not have Thomas? Now the Protector suspected her, at worst of treason, of wanting to supplant Edward, at best of being too stupid to understand the political disaster of her marriage to his brother.

  Chapter 33

  The mortal months since Llanelli’s suicide had passed as one long misery to Pasgen and Rhoslyn. When they first learned of their mother’s death they had stormed into Caer Mordwyn like avenging furies, erupted into Aurilia’s apartment when they found Vidal’s empty, and slapped a truth spell on her.

  They learned nothing to provide an outlet for their desire for vengeance. Vidal, they discovered, had been gone into Scotland since early spring. Aurilia knew nothing of any plan of Vidal’s to take prisoner their mother. She had never heard of their mother in her life. She did know of a plan to attack Elizabeth in Elfhame Cymry—she struggled fruitlessly against revealing Chenga’s and Aurelus’ roles in the plan, but to her relief Pasgen and Rhoslyn seemed to brush off her admission.