Betrayal (19 page)

             
Elisabeth nodded.

             
“Thank you, I know I can trust to your discretion. Now, brush my hair. You have a soft touch; that feels wonderful.”

             
Elisabeth could feel her mistress relax more with each stroke of the brush. At last when Anne could feel herself nodding off she called a halt to the sensual experience. Elisabeth held back the heavy covers and removed the warm towel-wrapped brick. Anne slid beneath the cozy counterpane, falling into a deep sleep almost immediately.              

             
Before leaving the chamber Elisabeth banked the fire and pulled her pallet from beneath the bed. Smiling at the look of utter contentment on her lady’s face, Elisabeth dipped a quick bow, whispered, “Good Night,” and pulled the door closed quietly as she left the room.

***

              The Great Hall was dark except for the frail light of a single candle on the trestle table. Two figures huddled close to the guttering light. Elisabeth recognized Lady Elinor, but she could only see the back of the other person. Stepping from behind the buttery screen Elisabeth paused. At the sound of Elisabeth’s footfall on the polished slate floor Lady Elinor seemed to pull away from her companion.  In the flickering candlelight Elisabeth saw Lady Elinor withdraw her hand into her lap.

             
“Who goes there?” Lady Elinor called, her voice etched with fear.

             
“It is me, my lady, Elisabeth Beeton. I wished to inquire if your servants had returned from London.”  Elisabeth felt tears sting her eyes as she struggled to keep her voice even. “My lady begs that you be assured that she will speak with the King on your behalf.”  Elisabeth dipped a deep curtsy preparing to leave the hall.

             
“The parting has brought you much sorrow,” a foreign sounding voice said. An old woman twisted in her seat to face Elisabeth, a knotted finger held at her lip. “I have looked into the fire and seen you. I have seen much joy in store for you, but yet sorrow circles you like a hungry crow.” Then she turned away, sitting sideways in her chair. Staring into the darkness, the old woman fingered her lower lip with her left hand, the right held tight against her body. Long moments passed before she twisted to face Lady Elinor. “Pardon lady, but I have seen much concerning this one.  May I tell her that, which I know?”

             
“Of course, Anya; speak words of comfort to the girl.”

             
“Words of comfort I have few. Draw near, girl, I would look into your eyes when I speak to you.”

             
Elisabeth resisted the urge to run. She moved slowly across the hall, to stand before the wizened gypsy woman.  Elisabeth executed a perfect bow, remaining with her head down until Lady Elinor released her from this act of courtesy.

             
“Come closer, girl. Closer, I will not bite you.”

             
Elisabeth hesitated.

             
“Come Elisabeth. Anya Marya will not harm you. She is an old and cherished friend of mine.” Lady Elinor smiled, extending her hand to the frightened girl.

             
‘Strange,’ thought Elisabeth, ‘the lady of the manor friends with a common gypsy.’ Gypsies were the stuff of common folk, not nobility.

             
“Come girl, I tire of waiting for you,” the old woman said, holding out a misshapen hand.

             
“Yes ma’m,” Elisabeth said as she pushed her wooden feet forward toward the table and its strange occupant. She found herself staring at the old woman’s embroidered blouse and skirt. Never had she seen such fine stitches or such elaborate use of color. Elisabeth wished she could examine the ornate material, to learn the sewer’s secrets. Large silver discs dangled from the gypsy’s ears and the old woman’s smile revealed several missing teeth; those that remained were yellow with age. The hag’s sour breath offended Elisabeth and she wished she could step away from it, but courtesy to Lady Elinor would not allow it. So Elisabeth drew in her breath, determined to hold it as long as she could.

             
“Now, child, tell me your name.”

             
“Elisabeth Beeton, ma’m,” Elisabeth flushed. How should she address this odd looking woman? As Lady Elinor did not appear upset, Elisabeth decided ma’m would do.

              “Give me your hand,” the old woman said. As she turned to face Lady Elinor she continued, “You can tell a lot about a person by studying their hand. See here, this is her life line.  And this is her love line, much unhappiness there, yet she will find her true love in this lifetime, more than most can hope for. Now, see this,” she continued as she drew her ragged fingernail across Elisabeth’s palm. “This speaks of separation, of prosperity, and an utter fall from grace.”

             
Elisabeth flinched and tried to pull her hand away, but the old woman held tight. Frowning at Elisabeth, the Anya pulled her hand closer to the light. “But this sweep up at the end of the line speaks of honor restored, yet not in this life, I think.” Then, speaking directly to Elisabeth she continued, “Your life will be like the landscape of your beloved Cornwall, up hills and down dales, but your love for your mistress is strong and will serve you well. Take good care of her and take heart that all things that must be, will be.”

             
“Pardon, Madam, but you spoke of my home. How is it you know where I am from?”

             
“Your speech is clear enough; it gives you away. However, though you have lived in Padstow, you were born under Tintagel’s walls.”

             
“Yes, we had a small farm beside the Castle’s wall, but how did you know?”

             
“It is my business to know.  Speak your piece to our hostess and be gone; the hour grows late. But know this, we will meet again.”

             
Elisabeth did as she was bid and quickly left the Great Hall. Once safe on her pallet her mind raced to remember what the old woman had said. Though her eyelids grew heavy Elisabeth fought sleep trying to memorize all the old crone’s words. In the hearth’s dim glow she studied her hand. ‘Now, which line told of my true love?’ she pondered.  ‘And which told of happiness found, lost and regained?’  Elisabeth lay back on her straw mattress, closing her eyes for just a moment to ease the sting of fatigue, and before she knew it she fell into a deep sleep.

             
                                                                      ***

              The morning dawned bright and clear. Elisabeth awoke to the sun’s warmth shining on her face. Rising quickly, she sluiced cold water on her face to wash away the last visages of sleep. The Lady Anne was already awake, sitting once more at the dressing table before the window, brushing her long dark hair.

             
“Oh my lady!” Elisabeth gasped. “Why did you not wake me? I am so sorry for my sloth. Forgive me, my lady.” Elisabeth bowed deeply, fearful she would lose her place, so newly won.

             
“There is nothing to forgive,” Anne replied. “You slept so sweetly like an angel; I could not bear to wake you.  Now help me with my hair,” she continued, handing the silver backed brush to Elisabeth. “After you have helped me to dress, I wish you to go and see how Marie-Louise fares.  I have had no news since going to the hall yester night. Bid her to rest, assure her that I am well looked after.”

             
“Yes, my lady.”

             
Elisabeth helped the Lady Anne into a traveling gown of hunter green, admiring how beautiful and stylish her mistress looked. After fitting a matching French hood upon the lady’s head Elisabeth dipped an elegant bow, holding it until Anne had surveyed herself in the polished tin mirror. Only when her mistress placed the mirror back on the table and turned to smile at Elisabeth did the girl release her bow.

             
“Your fingers are as nimble as Marie-Louise’s.”

             
Elisabeth flushed at what she knew was a great compliment. She began to protest, but the slight raise of Lady Anne’s hand silenced her.

             
“If you are to be in my service, you must learn how to receive compliments gracefully. Now tell me, Elisabeth, should we dress my hair differently? I still wear it in the style of the French Court.”

             
“Oh no, my lady, the style suits you too well. I would not change a thing, you are perfect the way you are”

             
“It would seem the King agrees with you. When I asked him if I should put aside my French hood in favor of a more English style he protested very loudly.” Anne giggled.

             
Elisabeth likened the sound of her mistress’ laugh to the soft tinkling of small bells. How pleased she was when the Lady Anne smiled or laughed. Elisabeth made a mental note to remember to thank God again for placing her in Lady Anne Boleyn’s household.

             
“Come, Elisabeth, we must ready ourselves for our journey to Hever. But first, go and find out what news you can about Marie-Louise.”

             
Elisabeth dipped a hasty bow, and moving quickly she was out the door heading for the women servants quarters. When Elisabeth returned, she heard voices raised in anger from within the chamber. Hesitating, she placed her hand gingerly on the latch. What she heard next made her flush with anger.

“Anne, I repeat, it is senseless to expose yourself to the fever for the sake of a servant. And sister, whether you like it or not, the servant Fournier will remain here until she either recovers or dies. I will not allow her to infect the whole company.”

“You will not allow! You will not allow!” The Lady Anne’s voice quivered with anger. “And just who are you? Who do you think you are, Jane, to countermand an order of mine? This is my household, these are my servants, and you, sister, are but one of their number. I wish Marie-Louise to accompany us to Hever, therefore you will issue the proper orders to ensure her comfort during traveling.”

At the pause in conversation Elisabeth knocked lightly on the heavy oak door.

“Come in,” Rochford called, “and be quick about it.” Eyeing Elisabeth, she snapped an about face and marched stiff-shouldered to the window. Below in the courtyard the wagons were being loaded with traveling boxes.  “Well, speak, girl. You have interrupted a discussion of our traveling plans. State your business and be gone.”

Elisabeth dipped a deep bow. “My lady, I have news of Marie-Louise.” But before Elisabeth could say what it was Lady Rochford stepped between her and the Lady Anne.

“The Lady Anne requires you to speak to me of servant matters.”

Anne wheeled to face her sister-in-law, her face flushed, her hand raised to strike Jane; then thinking better of it she merely said, “I am Mistress of my household, me, and me alone. Elisabeth, tell me of Marie-Louise. Jane, please leave us. I am sure there is something, somewhere that requires your undivided attention.”

              Lady Rochford’s long, thin face flushed as if she had been slapped. “But Anne, there are matters that must be settled.”

             
“Later, Jane, much later, I will call you when I have need of you.” The Lady Anne dismissed her sister-in-law with a wave of her hand. “Now, Elisabeth, your news,” she said, sitting down on a leather stool, giving her rapt attention to Elisabeth’s pale face. She stared deeply into her servant’s deep blue eyes seeking comfort, but finding none.

             
“Oh no, Elisabeth, she is not dead, is she?”

             
“Oh no, my lady, she lives.” Elisabeth paused. “I pray God, she will live to serve you once more, but,” Elisabeth paused at the sound of her Mistress’ steep intake of breath. ‘I should have let Maude tell her,’ Elisabeth thought sadly.

             
“But what?” inquired the Lady Anne leaning forward to catch Elisabeth’s every word, to study Elisabeth’s every move.

             
“The Anya says”

             
“The Anya? Who is the Anya? Of whom do you speak?”

             
“The gypsy, ma’m. She says it doesn’t look good.”

             
“Doesn’t look good,” Anne repeated. “Does that mean she is like to die? That cannot be true. Marie-Louise is a young woman, strong of health, surely she will survive; others have.”

             
Elisabeth shook her head sadly, lowering her eyes to the floor.

             
“Leave me, Elisabeth, I wish to be alone.”

“But, madam, we are to leave soon and I have much work to do,” Elisabeth pleaded, reluctant to leave the distressed woman alone.

“Leave me, I said.”

Elisabeth dipped a hasty bow, exiting the chamber quickly. The lady’s loud sobbing could be heard as Elisabeth closed the heavy door. Elisabeth made a rapid sign of the cross as she quickly made her way back to the servant’s quarters. Once there she was confronted by chaos as servants of both households rushed hither and thither aimlessly.