Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (25 page)

“
It looked to be a cloudless sky this morning. Let us ride.”

“Should you like to hunt?” Ned asked.

I wrinkled my nose. “I do not like to hunt.”

He looked at me quizzically.
“You do not hunt?”

“I like the chase, but wish that it would end there. I cannot watch the killing.”

“Well, shall we take the dogs out for a run, while we ride?”

I clapped my hands in excitement. “Yes! It sounds wonderful.”

“I will see about a picnic from Cook, and you gather up the fearsome Mrs. Helen.”

I laughed as Ned wrinkled his nose and did his best to impersonate my buxom
companion.

“You are terrible, Ned! If
Mrs. Helen were to see you strutting so, she would box your ears!”

Ned laughed at that, then gripped my hand in his, gently squeezing as he brought it to his lips. “I think today may be the happiest of my life.”

A tingle wrought its way from my hand to my heart. “And mine also. I confess I did not think this day would ever come.”

“And yet it has!” Ned pulled me close, taking a chance that we might be caught in such an embrace in the open corridor.

He nuzzled my nose with his own and then kissed me swiftly. “I wish to kiss you further, but I do not want Her Grace’s ire after just gaining her favor.”

“Perhaps
Mrs. Helen will turn her back while we picnic,” I whispered with a mischievous smile.

“One can only hope!” Ned
’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Truthfully, it is the queen’s consent, the priest’s blessing, and our marriage bed I look forward to, where I can not only kiss your lips, but kiss…other parts of you, with no one naysaying when and where.”

F
lames shot from my cheeks, for I had imagined such pleasures myself. My limbs tingled with anticipation.

“Yes,” I breathed
, for dreams did apparently come true, and I felt for certain I lived inside a wonderful fantasy.

Then
Mother’s words from so long ago came back to haunt me.
Control, Kat. A woman must always maintain some level of control. Do not allow yourself to be carried away by flights of fancy and pretty words. Your mind is your own and the only place in which you alone are master.

Somehow, Ned had wiggled his way inside my mind, and I was no longer master there—and I wasn
’t sure I wanted to be, in any case. His stalwartness was a soothing balm. I quite enjoyed having him to lean against. He was on my side—an ally—the two of us against the world. But our relationship was also so much more than that. Ned was my soul mate.

July 31, 1558

After just over a sennight of our visit at Charterhouse in Sheen, Mother’s health greatly improved, and Ned and I had a chance to court each other in earnest. Walks in the gardens, reading from books. He sang me ballads while playing the lute and even wrote me a few poems detailing my beauty.

As promised, Mother wrote a letter to the
queen—but she had yet to send it off, changing her mind and preferring to speak to her cousin in person. She hoped to be well enough to travel to court when I was summoned.

I tried
to hide my disappointment at Mother not expediting the process. Didn’t she realize how very much I wanted to marry Ned? Did she have some other ulterior motive in prolonging making our betrothal official?

“My lady?”
Mrs. Helen knocked and entered my chambers in a swish of skirts. She stopped short of where I sat in a window contemplating the rainy day and how Ned and I would not be able to go for our planned chase. Instead, I was knitting blankets for the local poor children and babies.

Ned
had named hunting “the chase” since I did not like the end result. He was very accommodating to my sensibilities, although I had an idea when one or two of our groomsmen did not return with us, that they were in fact finishing off the game we’d managed to corner.

I smiled at
Mrs. Helen. In her hand, she held a rolled parchment. “Have you a message for me?” I asked.

“Aye, my lady.
’Tis from Lady Jane.”

I jumped from the window seat and rushed to grasp the paper from
Mrs. Helen. I did so love my correspondence with Jane. She was still my dearest friend, and while I had Ned to confide in as well, Jane would always hold a place in my heart—after all, I dearly needed someone to confess my secrets.

Jane
’s letter prattled on about the activities at Hanworth, how she missed me so—but also included a warning. The Duchess of Somerset and she were on their way to Sheen, apparently having been invited by my own mother, who had not informed me of said invitation.

Did Ned know of their impending arrival? When would
that be?

As if on cue, the sound of galloping horses and the cranking of a wagon wheel turned in the drive.

“Mrs. Helen, you must aid me with preparations for our guests.”

“Guests?” My governess frowned and went to look out the window. “I do not see any guests, my lady, only a few merchants.”

“Truly?” I, too, craned my neck out the window to see a wagon full of fabrics and several seamstresses and tailors dismounting from their places astride horses or inside the wagon.

“
I suppose Her Grace is in need of a new wardrobe, given her illness wasted her away to nearly nothing.”

Mrs. Helen
made a humming sound in agreement.

“When did this letter arrive?” I asked, holding up the parchment from Jane.

“Just prior to me bringing it to you, love.”

“And do you happen to know,
Mrs. Helen, when my mother sent a note to the Duchess of Somerset?”

Mrs. Helen
narrowed her brow at me and shook her finger. “Now, you know, my lady, I never spy nor do I gossip.”

“Come now, tell me. I must know when they will arrive!
The duchess is such a formidable woman, I have to prepare myself in advance… Especially now that Ned and I will soon be officially betrothed.”

“Seems to me, you are already betrothed.”

“In our hearts, yes, but legally… If only it were so. You are quite aware we must first gain the approval of Queen Mary.”

Mrs. Helen
grunted her reply.

I sent my companion a pleading look.
“Do tell if you know.”

“I believe she sent a note out yestermorn.”
Mrs. Helen huffed as though I’d forced the words from her.

“Did
the duchess send a reply?”

“I do not know, my lady
. I was only given your letter from Lady—”

A yelp of pain and
loud shrieking from outside interrupted my companion. Shouts and calls sounded from people in the courtyard. Gooseflesh rose on my arms.

“Oh my goodness, what was that?”
I pressed a hand to my chest as I rushed toward the window. Several people hunched over something on the ground.

“Oh, my dear…”
Mrs. Helen said, tears in her eyes.

I did not want to believe what I was seeing. I did not want to see the confirmation in
Mrs. Helen’s eyes, just as vividly as I saw the white paw…

I rushed from the room, no care that I
’d yet to put on my slippers, and ran barefoot down the winding staircase, tripping twice and nearly pitching forward, only to catch myself with a jarring crack of my hand on the moist stony wall.

“My lady!” I could hear
Mrs. Helen shouting from somewhere above me, but I did not stop my descent. I had to get outside, had to get to the poor little creature who’d been crushed beneath—I didn’t know by what. A horse’s hoof? A wagon wheel?

I burst through the great wooden doors
, rain spritzing on my cheeks, and rushed down the few stone steps leading to the courtyard, shoving bodies aside before dropping on my knees to the muddy ground.

Although he didn
’t move his head, Rex turned his eyes toward me, such sadness filling their depths, as though he were sorry to disappoint
me
, the poor creature. He panted, and I reached down to cradle his small, broken body in my arms.

“Oh, Rex. Sweet, darling.” I turned my eyes on all those gathered.
“What happened?”

“The hound got in the way of Jasper,” said a middle-aged man
as he swiped rain-water from his brow.

“Jasper? Who in God
’s name is Jasper?” I asked, exasperated, glancing around the rain-filled afternoon.

“My horse.”

I wanted to shout that the horse should be stomped on, that the man in charge of the horse should also be trampled, but instead, I clamped my lips closed and rested my eyes on my sweet Rex. I’d had him with me since the day Jane—

I
t was hard for me to even finish the thought. As a gift to provide me comfort, Father had given me the pups from the same litter. I’d held Rex and Arabel to my breast for so many nights as solace to the pain I felt inside. They were so much more to me than pets. They were my dearest friends…my family…and now…

“Oh,
Rex,” I sobbed into his warm body, feeling his fur soaked through.

Was it b
lood? I glanced in horror, but there was no blood on his body, only rain. I felt his pain as he panted and whimpered against my chest and throat. I kissed his soft head, stroked behind his ears and held him.

Those around me stood in silence
, and a few who felt the need to step forward, I shooed away with angry slashes of my hands.

Where was Ned?

Arabel and Beau, as if sensing Rex’s pain and mine, rushed forward. Arabel licked at Rex’s face, and Beau nudged his paws, but the poor dog just rolled his eyes back and forth, as if willing the pain away.

“My lady, I could take a look at him and see the extent of the damage?” The soft voice was that of our
stable master and sometime physician to the manor animals.

I glanced up at him through
tear-blurred vision and nodded, even as rain fell into my eyes and soaked my hood. My gown would be ruined, but I cared not. He took hold of Rex, and even with the gentle way he did so, the dog still whimpered in pain. I forced my arms to my sides instead of reaching out to protect him, since I knew that Mr. Roberts would do his utmost to see to the well-being of my Rex. Arabel and Beau slipped their bodies beneath my arms, seeking comfort. Their tails did not wag, and they, too, panted, staring at Rex and Mr. Roberts, awaiting the diagnosis as I did.

“Kat!” Ned burst on the scene, propriety
foregone as he knelt by my side in the mud, placing a gently consoling hand on my shoulder. “What has happened?”

His gaze followed mine, and upon seeing
Rex prone on the ground, he jumped up to oversee Mr. Roberts.

Mr.
Roberts’s long, slim fingers probed Rex’s wet fur and flesh. Rex whimpered and snapped at him once, nearly taking off one of the stable master’s fingers.

Ned cooed to the dog, stroking his white and brown head with strong fingers.

The stable master said something in low tones to Ned, and they both glanced up at me.

“What?” I said, my voice becoming shrill. “Do not stare a
t me and whisper as though I were a child with a weak heart!”

“My lady, I meant no offense,” Mr. Roberts said softly
, water dripping from the tip of his nose. “Rex, is it?”

At the mention of his name,
Rex’s gaze flicked from mine to Mr. Roberts. I nodded.

“I am terribly sorry to be the one to deliver such news to you, my lady, but it appears that
Rex’s entire rib cage has been crushed. It is a wonder he is still conscious at all as the bones must have pierced his lungs and other organs.”

I
went numb. Choked on my breath. The poor pup must have been suffering miserably. I fell to the side, from my knees, and caught myself before I collapsed completely.

“He will die,” I said, my voice cracking. Another one I cared so much about would pass from this life.

Ned picked up Rex’s body and placed him back in my arms. I cradled him and cooed to him as his breathing grew shallower.

“A finer hound could not be found,” I muttered, kissing his cold nose.

Rex’s pink tongue came slowly from his snout and licked my face one last time. Our gazes connected, then he shuddered, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“
Rex?” I whispered, resting my forehead to his, willing him to open his eyes again. It could not be over! But all the same, I knew it was.

My precious dog had been
trampled by a horse. Stomped down in the prime of his life.

My head shot up, searching the crowd.
“You there,” I shouted, pointing to the man who’d claimed ownership of the horse, Jasper. The man’s stricken eyes met mine. “Leave this manor at once! Your business is no longer required.”