Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (20 page)

“No
, indeed, my lady, I admit to being too preoccupied watching you and my mother argue over feeding the ducks.”

I pursed my lips into a frown and waved his words away. “Forsooth
, you are no gentleman.”

His hand came to cover his heart. “Your wo
rds do me harm, my lady. I have oft proclaimed myself to be of the utmost in gentlemanly manners and courtly ways.”

“And yet you have called me false a
nd nitpicky within two breaths. I promise, my lord, I have been nothing but helpful today.” I widened my eyes, using a look that had worked on countless others when trying to divert a conversation.

Ned
’s head fell back, and he let out a laugh that had nearby birds vacating their tree branches in panic, their loud squalls piercing the tranquility of the garden.

“Do you always stretch your eyes wide and questioning-like when you’re trying desperately to get out of the conversation?”

My mouth fell open. How did this man know me so well?

“
Never mind. I shall acquiesce this once. Why do you think my mother so cruel, my lady?”

I squinted my eyes up at the birds, trying for distracted instead of the intense feeling of need building within me.

I placed a hand over his on my arm and stopped walking, my gaze meeting his. “’Tis not that at all, my lord. Your mother is the picture of kindness and charity. ’Tis only I was worried Jane would not speak up for herself and would not tell anyone of her distress.”

“Ah, I see, so you are her guardian of
a sort.”

Again nonchalance, even though heat now stroked its way over my chest to my cheeks.
“I suppose. Jane means the world to me. She is—” But I could not say it. Could not tell him that she was the sister I had lost. For I still had one sister who lived and breathed, but we were so very different. For a brief scattered moment I wondered where Mary was, what she was doing.

“She is what?”
Ned urged.

I glanced away, but the gentle, soft pressure of Ned
’s fingers upon my chin had me turning to gaze once more into his greenish-brown eyes fringed with long, curling lashes.

“She is like a sister to me.”

“And I would never let any harm come to her. You know the only reason Her Grace insisted on the orchard was she had set up a picnic there for Jane. She would never intentionally harm her child. ’Twas only Mother’s excitement that spurred her forward.”

“I had
not fathomed the notion,” I said breathlessly—and only because he would not take his gaze from mine. His full lips beckoned me to taste them, and being in such close proximity to Ned was dangerous, sinful.

He had a pull on me that no other man, no matter his sweet words of courtly love, could even touch.

“Lady Katherine?” he whispered, his breath hot and inviting upon my cheek.

“Yes?” I murmured, my eyes feeling heavy. My fingers
shook. My heart pumped loudly. I desperately wanted him to kiss me. Had missed his lips on mine. Savored every memory of our previous encounters.

“May I kiss you?”

My knees grew unsteady.

I nodded, my eyelids fluttering closed.

I waited…
One… Two
… And then there he was. His tender lips brushed over mine and were gone. I’d opened my mouth to protest when they landed once more upon me with subtle pressure. His fingers stroked up my arms to my cheeks, where he took hold ever so gently, rooting me in place. He tilted his head to the side, and I nearly jumped as a soft swipe of his hot tongue slid over the crease of my lips.

And then
, once more, it was over—before it had really begun.

Ned put my arm back through his and marched with just as much purpose into the manor house
and through the great hall as his mother had mustered on the way to the orchard.

Worry
swept through me at his sudden rejection and stern bearing. “What is wrong?”

We reached the stairwell leading up to the bedchambers. Ned
’s eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed firmly closed, and the muscle in his jaw flexed and unflexed. “You have done nothing wrong. In fact, it was
too
right.”

“Too right?” I murmured like an echo, trying to wrap my thoughts around what he was telling me.

“We cannot do this anymore, my lady.”

I nodded, even though I did not understand why, and despite the fact that I wanted very much to do it again.

“My mother will not be happy to learn of it. Since she warned me off…”

My eyes snapped to his
, and I shook my head. The duchess had warned Ned away from me just as she’d warned me away from him. Why? “She will not know. I will not tell her.” To tell would have been to risk my own reputation.

Ned chuckled. “Her Grace knows all, my dear. She has more spies than the
queen, I suspect. She has probably already been informed of our kiss just now.”

“Oh.”
My uttered understanding was false, for I could not fathom the gardens and house crawling with spies. When I pictured spies, they were all spindly of body, narrow of nose, and dressed in dark colors as they clambered over rooftops and sneaked through windows. I had seen none of this at Hanworth.

Ned laughed again and dragged his finger along my jawline. “You are a breath of fresh air, sweet Katherine.”

“Then perhaps you had better kiss me again.” I clapped a hand over my mouth.

“Perhaps I will…” Ned raked a hand through his chestnut locks. “But not here. Not right now.”
His eyes burned right through to my soul. “Mother sent me away before when I took the liberty to press my lips to your sweet mouth. I daren’t risk her wrath again.”

“Why?”

“She has a plan, my lady. She always has, and I am not of a mind to intervene.”

“Even if her plans
interfere with your happiness?”

Ned
’s smile touched my heart. “You know a person of noble birth is bound by honor and duty to their family. Happiness never plays a part. But I must know, do you wish to make me happy, my lady?”

His words were heavy, and while my stomach did flip after flip, the truth was
, I did so very much want to fill him with bliss. I had thought at one time that no one could have my love, that love did not exist, and my marriage to Henry had proved that marriage was a game. But with Ned, it seemed different, like love was attainable and within reach.

I was not so obtuse
as to be shocked Lady Anne did not to want me to have marital notions aimed toward her son. But why? At one point, years before, we’d been nudged down this path at her urging, even if nothing came of it. And now that he and I had formed some sort of attachment—dare I say, mutual affection?—she was trying to pull us apart.

“Yes, I do.”

He smiled and leaned close, pressing one last earth-shattering kiss to my lips, before pulling away. My mind turned to mush.

“That pleases me more than you know.”

Chapter Nine

For truth and time that tries out gold,

hath tempered so my talk:

That pen nor muse no pleasure takes,

on doubtful ground to walk.

Now when these states with links of love,

wear tied together fast…

~Thomas Churchyard

Elizabethan
soldier and poet

July
22, 1558

T
he following morning when I descended—on time, I might add—to the great hall for morning Mass, Ned had disappeared and Lady Anne gave me a sidelong glance.

Did she suspect Ned
of kissing me in the garden—that our romance remained intact despite her discouragement of it? Jane smiled at me—almost conspiratorial. Her pallor had increased in color, and she seemed in even better health than the day before.

We sat in the front pew of
the chapel, the duchess first, Jane second and me last.

“I am pleased you were able to rise in a timely fashion this morning, Lady Katherine. Anything in particular change
to remedy that fact?” Lady Anne’s lips twitched in that subtle smile of hers.

I blanched, my fingers wringing together.

“I only wished to please you, Your Grace.”

“You have indeed, darling girl. And my Jane is feeling much improved. I think in large part we have you to thank for keeping her company and
providing succor for her through this trial.”

“It was my pleasure,” I said quietly as the service began.

While the choir sang out and the virginals reverberated off of every stone, Jane leaned close to me and whispered, “He will be home in time for the noonday meal.”

I nodded imperceptibly, so as not to draw attention to myself from
the duchess. But I did smile, my eyes cast toward the ground.

After Mass, we broke our fast and then retired to Lady Anne
’s presence chamber to work on sewing shirts for the poor and blankets for babies. It was good busywork to keep me still, when I wanted to run about the manor. It also reminded me of how much I had and what good I could share with those less fortunate. I was filled with a vigor that made my entire body tingle with the need to expel the energy. And yet, I was nervous, my stomach doing flip-flops every time I thought I heard a horse clop across the courtyard. Could it be him? Had he returned?

And thus the morning passed, with fourteen pricks to my fingers and five shirts mended with tiny dots of red along the seams.

Finally, Her Grace set down her sewing. “Would you ladies care to take a walk about the gardens with me to refresh our spirits and stretch our legs before the noon meal is served?”

I was more than happy to oblige her and
, in my haste to jump to her side, forgot that poor little Beau had curled in my lap to sleep and so fell to the floor with a yelp. I scooped him up and cuddled him to my chest, whispering soothing words in his velvety ears. He licked at my face, forgiving me for my lapse of lucidity.

The garden was much like Lady Anne
’s presence chamber. At every crunch of gravel, I expected to see Ned striding up to us with his long, shapely legs cased in silken hose, his doublet finely sewn and encrusted with jewels that glimmered in the sun. I wanted to see his moss-colored eyes twinkle with humor and mischief and feel the stroke of his fingers upon my cheek or secretly graze over my spine. I wanted his hip to brush against mine as we walked, and God save my soul from Purgatory, I wanted his lips to press to mine in a fevered kiss that took the very breath from my lungs.

Alas,
every time I turned, it was either a servant, a rabbit, a dog, or just the rustle of the leaves as the wind blew.

Both Jane and
the duchess were kind enough to pay no heed to the twists and turns of my neck as I craned to see if Ned had arrived. Instead, they kept up a steady chatter about the coming festivities at court. I was sure to have a strained neck in the morning, for I did not think I had performed this much contorting in my life.

As luck would have it—and given my past, luck was not on my side
—Ned did not come to offer us escort in the gardens as I’d hoped.

In fact, what did arrive was a messenger.

“My Lady Katherine?” He bowed low over a turned leg, flourishing his feathered hat and sweeping it nearly to the ground.

The
duchess narrowed her eyes, examining the man wearing Tudor green and white livery with the Suffolk unicorn stitched on his breast, her eyes riveted on the rolled parchment in his right hand.

“Yes?” I straightened my back, prepared for
bad news, and forced all the fear forming storm clouds inside my body to evaporate until I had at least had a chance to read the letter’s contents.

“A letter from
Master Adrian Stokes.”

My mother
’s young Master of the Horse husband. My blood ran cold at what cause he would have to write me. I held out my hand and gripped the smooth, crisp parchment.