Betrayal (6 page)

“‘she need not worry for me,’” I finished for him.

The pageboy nodded vigorously. “Well, if you’re
going to pass the message on to Lady Jane, I’d better get this delivered,” he said, holding up a letter addressed to Her Majesty the Queen.

I stared at it, then looked at Mary. Her eyes were like saucers.

“Her Majesty will not see you at this hour,” Mary said. “She will be dining in her Private Chambers.”

Robin sighed and nodded, then went to sit down in a corner of the courtyard and wait.

Mary and I hurried off through a gateway into the next courtyard to discuss what we had discovered.

“Being helped into a boat by a sea captain!” Mary gasped. “Must be Drake—did you
see
them simpering over each other? And sending the Queen a letter …” She turned to me. “You know what this might mean, don’t you?”

We stopped and stared at each other. I knew Mary had had the same thought as me: “Mayhap she is eloping!” I said.

Mary nodded.

I couldn’t help laughing at the thought of elegant Lady Sarah as a sea captain’s wife.

Mary was holding her stomach, she was laughing so much. “She’ll be climbing up the mast!” she gasped. “She’ll be firing a cannon!”

I laughed even harder—but then I suddenly thought of something awful, and stopped laughing. “Lord above,” I said. “Think how furious the Queen will be that a Maid of Honour has eloped, to marry without Her permission. She’ll send out the Gentlemen of the Guard to capture both of them. Captain Drake will be thrown in the Tower and Lady Sarah will be dragged back in disgrace!”

At that, Mary Shelton stopped laughing, too. It was always fun to watch Lady Sarah getting into trouble with the Queen for squabbling with Lady Jane, or wearing too much face paint, but neither of us wanted to see her get into
real
trouble. Not being-banished-from-Court trouble. Not even Lady Sarah I’m-so-pretty Bartelmy deserved that.

I grabbed Mary’s arm. “I have to get a look at that letter!” I told her. Then I turned round and ran back to where Robin was playing knucklebones in the corner of the courtyard. Mary followed.

“Robin,” I said, “if you give me that letter, I’ll see that Her Majesty gets it. So you can go and get something to eat in the Great Hall rather than waiting around here.”

Robin’s eyes lit up at the mention of food. He pulled off his cap, bowed—quite gracefully for a
nine-year-old—and then put the letter in my hand. “Thank you, my lady,” he said quickly, and then sped off in the direction of the Great Hall.

I stared down at the letter, feeling a little sick, because I was now going to commit a sort of treason. After all, you’re not supposed to read a message addressed to the Queen before she gets it. But I had to know what Lady Sarah said in her letter. And anyway, I reasoned, Her Majesty’s clerks read most of her letters for her—she gets so many she would never have time to read them all.

“Come on!” I whispered to Mary, and hurried off towards our bedchamber, with Mary puffing along behind.

As soon as we were in our bedchamber, I blocked the door with a stool and lit one of the candles. Then I got the penknife out of my penner and heated up the blade in the candle’s flame. One of the clerks showed me once how to open a letter without breaking the seal—so that you can read it and seal it up again, and no one the wiser! If this letter turned out to be boring Court business, I intended to do just that, and then take it to the Queen. Holding my breath, I put the letter on the table and used the hot knife blade to gently ease the seal off the paper. I unfolded the letter. It said:

I could feel a breeze in my mouth, so I shut my jaw.

Mary, who had been squeaking about how I mustn’t open the Queen’s letter, peered over my shoulder and read it, too. “So! It is confirmed!” she gasped.

“What’s ’appening?” asked a croaky voice from my bed. “What are you doing, Grace?”

“It seems Lady Sarah has eloped with Captain Drake,” I told Ellie.

Ellie was silent for a moment. “Cor!” she said reverently.

I was thinking as hard as I possibly could, as hard as a Lady Pursuivant, trying to make sense of it all. Lady Sarah had shamelessly flirted with
Captain Drake, and he’d promised her presents, but was she
really
stupid enough to run away with a piratical sea captain? She would be banished from Court for a certainty, and she loves it here. Even I had to admit it was hard to believe she would act so foolishly. And yet, I had the evidence of her letter in my hand.

“What do you think the Queen will do to her?” Ellie asked ghoulishly. “Put her in the stocks? Flog her?”

“She’ll be in the most terrible disgrace,” said Mary seriously.

“Oh, is that all?” Ellie sounded quite disappointed.

I stood up and went over to Lady Sarah’s corner of the chamber. Her jewellery casket and her ivory comb and the cochineal-pink wax she uses on her lips to make them shine were all still sitting on her dressing table. So was the smelly stuff made of crushed woodlice that she puts on her spots, and the bit of unwashed white lamb’s wool she rubs her hands with to keep them soft. It just didn’t make sense. “Look,” I said, “she’s left all her toilette behind—how will she comb her hair and cure her spots? She’s even left her jewellery.”

“Now that
is
odd,” agreed Ellie. “I never ’eard of
anyone eloped what didn’t take all the jewellery she could lay her hands on.”

“I truly think she has taken leave of her senses,” said Mary, shaking her head in bafflement. “What with the elopement, and that extraordinary message, sending her love to her best friend, Lady Jane! I believe she’d be more likely to send her love to that old crone Mrs. Champernowne, for the Lord’s sake!”

I nodded. “You’re right, Mary,” I agreed. “Anyone who knows Lady Sarah would see the untruth of her message to Lady Jane.” Then a thought came into my head. “But what if that was Sarah’s intention?” I said slowly. “What if she was trying to alert those who know her that all is not as it seems?” I held up the letter. “Mayhap
this
is untrue, too?”

I rushed over to the window and held Sarah’s letter to the Queen up to the light, to examine it more closely. Was it really Sarah’s writing? “I’m not sure this is Lady Sarah’s hand,” I muttered as I studied the letters.

“But how can you tell?” asked Ellie, who was sitting up now, still quite flushed, but determined not to be left out even though she cannot read. “Aren’t you all taught to write the same?”

“Let me see,” said Mary.

I went and sat on the bed along with Mary, so that we could all see. It is true that we have all been strictly schooled in writing—and thus our letters look very alike. But Sarah’s hand has one special characteristic. “Look,” I said. “This letter
appears
to be from Lady Sarah, but Sarah always pens a big curly tail on her
y
s—I think she learned it deliberately, to be like the Queen.”

“Oh yes,” agreed Mary. “I once sat next to her when she was writing to her father complaining, as usual, that she had nothing new to wear. She took ages over her curly
y
s—I grew quite bored watching her.”

I passed no comment on Mary’s nosiness, as I was too excited by my discovery. “Yes: see these words,
Majesty
and
marry
and
Bartelmy
?” I said, pointing them out to Mary and Ellie. “The
y
s don’t have curly tails at all. I don’t think this letter
is
from Lady Sarah. I think it’s a
forgery
! And that means Drake has taken Lady Sarah away against her will!”

“Cor!” breathed Ellie again.

Mary was speechless.

I paced up and down the room. “Think about it,” I told them, while they both goggled at me. “Lady Sarah was flirting with Captain Drake. Maybe he misunderstood—he isn’t entirely familiar with the
ways of Court, after all. She won’t agree to marry him, so he captures her and takes her to his ship. He’s a pirate, he’s used to doing dangerous things. Then, when they’re well out to sea, his chaplain will marry them and the thing is done!”

Mary nodded. “It happens sometimes,” she agreed. “A cousin of mine was taken by her wicked stepfather to wed his nephew. Luckily, my father, together with some other gentlemen, rode after them and saved her just in time. Once you’re married, there’s nothing to be done—and your husband gets all your wealth!” Mary tutted sadly, then picked up an empty wine flagon. “It’s time for your next posset, Ellie,” she said. “I’ll be back soon.” And she slipped out of the room.

How dare Captain Drake think he could abduct one of us just because he felt like it! I was so angry, it made me want to rescue Lady Sarah—even if she is the worst possible chamber-mate and does insist on using foul, smelly spot creams.

“If I tell the Queen what’s happened and explain that the letter is forged, perchance the Queen will let me go and investigate and rescue Lady Sarah,” I said hopefully to Ellie. “If I go down to Tilbury right away, they might not have sailed yet and I could get her back quietly.”

“Don’t be a Bedlamite,” replied Ellie. “The Queen would never let you do that!”

“She said I was her Lady Pursuivant and I could investigate mysteries at the palace,” I reminded her, feeling quite annoyed. But I knew Ellie was probably right.

Ellie shook her head, then winced. “Her Majesty might let you ’vestigate within the Verge of Court, but she’ll never let you go gallivanting off down to Tilbury docks,” she declared. “She’ll send men, lots of them, with halberds and swords. Hey! Do you think there’ll be a fight? D’you think Drake’s sailors will fight them off?” Ellie started coughing again in her excitement.

“Doubtless,” I agreed. It was exciting to think of the battle, but my heart was sinking like a stone as I thought of what it would mean. “But if there is any such brawl and Lady Sarah is brought back by the Queen’s Gentlemen of the Guard, everyone in the Court will know of it,” I pointed out to Ellie. “The gossip will be all over London in half a day, the ballad-sellers will be singing of it by dinner time! Lady Sarah’s reputation will be ruined, whatever really happened—and whether she was willing
or
forced. She will have to leave Court like Katharine Broke, and her father might even disinherit her. Then she’ll
have to marry a barrister or somebody awful like that!”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it,” Ellie declared. “So you’ll have to seal up the letter again and give it to the Queen.”

I almost agreed, but then I was struck by another idea—it was the beginning of a plan, but a plan so bold that I hardly dared mention it. If I hadn’t been so angry with Captain Drake I don’t suppose I ever would have thought of it, but, “There
is
something I can do about it, Ellie,” I said slowly, clenching my fist on the forged letter. “I can go to Tilbury
secretly,
and try to rescue Lady Sarah with no one being any the wiser. If I succeed, her reputation will not be ruined and she will not be sent from Court!”

Ellie just stared at me with her mouth open.

And I stood there, trying to look brave and determined—which I think was very noble of me considering what a nuisance Lady Sarah is!

At that moment Mary Shelton came back with the posset and I told her my intention straight away, before I had time to change my mind—because I knew I would be taking a very great risk; only my outrage at Drake’s behaviour made me determined.

It took another half-hour of arguing, but in the
end neither Mary nor Ellie could think of any better way to help Sarah—unless you count sitting on our bums and wringing our hands. So we came up with a plan so that I could slip away to Tilbury: Mary would tell everyone that I had suffered a relapse, and that Lady Sarah was now ill in bed, too. She would pretend she was looking after both of us. That way, no one would come near, in case it was something infectious, and Ellie could continue to be looked after in my bed. “And I think Lady Sarah took Olwen with her. So we’d better include her, too,” I added.

Mary giggled. “So now I have four patients, one visible and three invisible. Don’t you think your uncle, Dr. Cavendish, will wonder …?”

“My uncle won’t even notice,” I assured her.

Mary shook her head. “I’m not sure if you are very brave or very stupid,” she said with feeling. “You don’t even
like
Lady Sarah.”

That is true. But I believed that Lady Sarah had already suffered the indignity of abduction, and as Lady Pursuivant I intended to do my best to see that she should not also suffer the injustice of disgrace because of it. Not even Sarah—though she is most trying—deserves that.

I made sure I had some money with me and considered
taking my daybooke—only it is too precious and I would not want it to get spoiled at the docks. Tilbury is a damp and untidy place, so I resolved to leave my daybooke in my chamber but to take careful note of my adventure for writing up later.

Of course, I needed the right clothes for my mission. So I hurried down to the buttery, where Masou and the other acrobats often go after a hard practice to drink mild ale and boast.

Sure enough, Masou was there. I dragged him into an alcove and told him what had happened. His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“Allah, forgive me!” he cried. “I saw them getting into the boat myself. It was rowed by some ugly-looking ogres—and the Captain lifted my Lady Sarah and carried her on board when she didn’t get in by herself. But I was busy practising a juggle and balance and I never thought anything of it, so, alas, I raised no alarm!”

“That must have been Captain Drake!” I exclaimed, then patted Masou’s arm reassuringly because he looked so horrified. “Can you tell me anything else?” I asked.