Chapter Two
"Whatever is amiss, my lamb?" asked Burgundy's waiting woman.
"Oh, Nan, the queen has finally tallied the bill for my education."
"And the price is marriage, as we suspected?"
"Aye. She is determined to wed me to Mountjoy, just as she planned for my mother."
"Only this time she won't be thwarted," warned Nan.
"Aye, but she will!" Burgundy vowed. "Tomorrow we will go into the city. I have a notion to see a play."
Every fortnight they went into London to John Bedford's townhouse. Her father, who was employed by the queen's spymaster, was usually off on Walsingham's business, and the house was convenient for shopping and visiting the Globe Theatre. It was at her father's London residence that Burgundy had met Anthony Russell, and Nan knew they often attended the playhouse together.
Burgundy penned a note and summoned a page to dispatch it. Nan fervently hoped she wasn't planning anything foolish.
Nan was thankful Burgundy had chosen a warm cloak for the wherry ride on the Thames. Winter was just around the corner.
When they arrived at the townhouse, Burgundy donned her mask and went off to see a performance of The Merry Wives of Windsor. A deliciously ironic choice, under the circumstances!
When Anthony Russell slid into the seat beside her in the gallery, Burgundy slipped her hand into his. When he squeezed it, her mouth curved sweetly beneath the mask, and she let out a sigh of relief that Tony was in London. Her attention was all taken up by his whispers and the players' antics, so it was not until the interval between acts that she looked across the gallery to see Nicholas Mountjoy. She stiffened, then remembering she wore a mask, forced herself to relax.
The Earl of Devon was squiring Dorothy Devereux, whose scandalous reputation forbade her attendance at court. The voluptuous blonde, though heavily painted and patched, was incredibly attractive and rumored most wanton by nature.
Beneath her mask, Burgundy's mouth turned prim. It was women like that who gave playhouses a bad name and caused the Puritans to call them little better than brothels exhibiting bawdy fables. I thought the wages of sin were supposed to be death, but judging by yon whore they are expensive jewels!
The profligate earl's marriage would obviously not interfere with his mistresses, Burgundy thought with distaste. When she realized she had missed most of the last act, Burgundy whispered to Anthony, "I want you to come back with me for dinner. I have something most urgent to discuss."
Nan was not surprised when Anthony Russell escorted Burgundy home, but she was disturbed. That her mistress had brought him back to sup did not bother her; it was the plans that might be hatched that worried Nan.
Against her better judgment she allowed her charge her privacy, hoping Burgundy would confide in her before she committed any folly.
She thought perhaps the time had come when she should give Burgundy the legacy that her mother had entrusted to her. As the hour grew late, Nan entered the fire-lit chamber to see the young couple cuddling and whispering together and she was convinced the time was at hand.
Nan climbed to the attic with her candlestick and lifted the lid of Lady Jane's trunk. With reverent hands she withdrew the book she had kept for twenty years. It was centuries old, and though Nan could not read, she appreciated the beauty of the handwritten pages, now yellow with age. She re-wrapped the treasure in the cloth of purple velvet and took it down to her bedchamber.
Before the embers of the fire died low, Burgundy and Anthony Russell had made plans for their secret marriage. She hadn't told him to whom the queen planned to marry her, only that the wedding was imminent and that there was a need for great haste. Anthony promised to take care of the license and find a willing priest who would make it legal.
"I've been looking at a house in Surrey, in the country. Would you like that, sweeting?"
"Can you afford it, Tony?" she asked with concern.
He laughed. "I have money aplenty, Burgundy. I sell information, and it brings a high price in Elizabeth's England."
"I hate her!" Burgundy said with passion.
"Softly, my sweet. Walls have ears. We could end up in the Fleet for what we plan, or worse, the Tower."
Burgundy shuddered. "I care not. A few months of prison is preferable to a life sentence in a loveless marriage!"
They lingered long over their good-night kisses. Anthony fervently wished Nan Greenwood wasn't in the house or he would persuade Burgundy to let him stay all night. She,too, was tempted to spend the night in Tony's arms, but knew that one more week would melt away as swiftly as snow in summer, and then they would be married.
Upon her return to Hampton Court, Burgundy was again summoned by the queen, but this time she was serene in the knowledge of her secret plans.
"Mistress Bedford," Elizabeth said in a voice that carried to the other ladies in the chamber, "it seems that Lord Mountjoy is well pleased with my choice of bride."
Burgundy felt the women's glances as they looked at her with speculation.
"Well, mistress, what do you have to say to me?" Elizabeth demanded archly, tapping her foot on the parquet floor.
Burgundy immediately went down before the queen in a gracious curtsy. "I thank Your Majesty with all my heart. I am unworthy of the honor you do me."
"Tush, child, I shall have my reward when I see Lady Jane's daughter become the Countess of Devon." Elizabeth's lips twitched as she heard her ladies gasp. "I am giving a private dinner in the Presence Chamber this evening to celebrate your betrothal."
The queen's imperative hand summoned her Mistress of the Wardrobe. "Mistress Bedford is to wed in a sennight. See that she is fitted with a gown worthy of a countess."
That evening when Burgundy entered the Queen's Presence Chamber, she had rehearsed her role as if she were an actor on the stage of the playhouse. No more sparks must fly between herself and Nicholas Mountjoy. She must be all sweet submission. Burgundy swallowed hard as he came to meet her; sweet submission was probably beyond her.
His dark glance swept over the violet taffeta that matched her eyes, moved up to her throat with its snowy ruff, and came to rest upon her earbobs.
"Good even, Burgundy," he said low. "Pearls are for tears. I think I shall gift you with amethysts." His voice was as rich as his apparel. His doublet was wine velvet, his monogram pricked out in garnets, or were they rubies? Yes, rubies, she decided when she saw his earring. Nothing so paltry as garnets for the arrogant earl!
Tonight the chamber was lit by hundreds of candles, bathing the strolling musicians with their lutes in a romantic glow. Burgundy clung sweetly to Mountjoy's hand as he led her forward to make her curtsy to the queen, then seated her beside him in the place of honor.
Nicholas noted immediately that the light of challenge was gone from her eyes, replaced by a look of deference. The little bitch is a consummate actress!
She caught a look of secret amusement on Mountjoy's dark face, as if he knew something she did not. It made her slightly uneasy. She ran the tip of her tongue across her full bottom lip and flushed as his eyes followed it.
"My lord, I fear the queen exaggerates when she refers to the Lyntons as a great shipping family. They were great once, but, alas, their fortunes and their fleet have dwindled over the years."
"I could be instrumental in restoring the Lyntons' fortunes," he replied smoothly.
Burgundy shook her head. He watched the play of light and shadow on her silken tresses and longed to bind himself in them. A half-smile of apology curved her soft mouth. "My lord, I am afraid Her Majesty is trying to fob me off on you. The Lyntons cast out my mother when she wed John Bedford."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "They will doubtless welcome you to their bosom once you are wed to me, mistress."
They can go to hell and you with them, thought Burgundy. Instead she said, "Perhaps, perhaps not. I must warn you the queen always likes to get the best out of any bargain."
"Elizabeth's shrewd all right. Shrewd eno
ugh to use your grandfather's vessels to help transport my reinforcements to Ireland in exchange for this union," he said, grinning.
So that was her attraction... her grandfather's ships! The situation got better and better. Elizabeth, Devon, and the bloody Lyntons deserved each other! What sweet revenge when they all learned the poor little pigeon had flown the coop.
Letter Of Love Page 2