Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (28 page)

BOOK: Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court)
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“In time, she will see she can trust you,” he
murmured, his fingers grazing mine.

“I suppose it is some consolation that she
hasn’t stripped me of my eighty pounds a year.” I did try to find the good in my current circumstances.

“Indeed, my lady, that is a good thing.”

“Mayhap it is only because she hasn’t seen her treasury accounts yet.”

Ned chuckled. “Perhaps that is also true.”

It was so frustrating to be true and obedient to Elizabeth and yet she shunned me and waited for me to prove folly. As it was our turn to follow the row of courtiers, Ned took my elbow and escorted me to the chapel. Blanche Parry and Kat Astley, servants of Elizabeth’s for years, pointed at me, gathering the attention of Lady Fiennes de Clinton and Lady St. Loe. I was to be made a spectacle of. Oh, how crushing. If only I could flee to the country, but I could not, as Elizabeth bade me stay.

Elizabeth glowered, but I pretended not to notice. She could lower me within the court, seek to embarrass me by doing so, but I would not allow her to take Ned from me. Not when he was the only thing I had to look forward to.

“You must figure out a way to get closer to Her Majesty, love. The postponement of our marriage is destroying me. I want to take you in my arms and comfort you, to hold you at night after the sun’s decline, and wake with you upon its return.”

His words washed over me with warmth, and he pressed his leg to mine as he sat beside me. I desired more than anything at that moment to reach out and place my hand on his firm thigh—and wouldn
’t that thought cross my mind just as his own hand brushed mine, as he feigned straightening his hose. A tingle of anticipation meandered dreamily through my body, and a burst of heat flooded my face. How could I think such sinful thoughts in the house of God? For shame… Perhaps marriage, too, would quell some of the desire we held, since now it was forbidden.

From the pulpit
, Bishop John Best began his sermon in English as, once queen, Elizabeth had quickly changed her services to the Protestant faith. She, so far, was proving to be a monarch with much tolerance, and I had heard her say on more than one occasion that she hoped to gain the favor and love of her people by showing tolerance to those who wished to worship differently than herself, that there was but one God, and we Catholics and Protestants loved him equally.

Forcing myself to no longer think of Ned and his sensual touches, I focused on what the priest said.


I have called upon thee, O God, for thou shalt hear me; incline thine ear to me and hearken unto my words. Show thy marvelous loving-kindness, thou that art the Savior of them which put their trust in thee, from such as resist thy right hand. Keep me as the apple of an eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings, from the ungodly, that trouble me
.”

I realized then how I would be able to show Her Majesty that I was true to her, that she could trust me and I would never seek to take her place. And while it was immoral to do something for others in the hopes
of gaining something in return, I would commit this one act of selfishness and do penance for it later.

The following
day, Elizabeth sat in her bath, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back. Rose petals floated in the water as she languished, sighing at the feel of the steamy water against her flesh.

I had given away a pearl and emerald brooch to the maid who was to dry the queen after
her bath in order to speak with her, and I would not be deterred in my task.

Sensing my presence—or
, rather, someone’s presence—Elizabeth’s eyes popped open. When recognition hit, she frowned and searched my person as if expecting me to be wielding a knife and not linen bath sheets.

I set the linens down and
knelt beside the tub, laying my hands on the warm metal side.

“Majesty, I implore you
, please open your mind and heart to my words, and know that I am ever your most loyal subject and true of heart, and would never seek to go against Your Majesty, or to succumb to other baser deeds that may be rumored, nor would I seek to destroy your trust. I have watched those before me”—and I dared not name my family—“and seen them perish for foolish deeds, and I have not the heart for it, nor the interest, as I bow to you and your royal rule and claim to this throne.”

I was babbling,
my heart beating so loud in my ears I could no longer hear the sloshing of the water as she moved. My mouth was dry, and I repeatedly licked at my lips. I hoped my words made sense to her.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, sitting up straighter so her small
, pale breasts were no longer submerged beneath the water. “And you thought it best, Cousin Kat, to seek me out in my nakedness?”

I blanched but saw the
flash of humor in her eyes, and a small spark of hope started to burn within me. “I did not know how best to speak with you. There are always so many around us, and I feared you would not see me.”

“I am reminded of myself seeking the ear of my own sister, God rest her soul. Hand me a towel.”

Elizabeth stood, her body straight and thin, boyish in its slimness. Water sluiced down her pale flesh, and I moved quickly to hand her a linen sheet lest she catch cold.

“Shall I call a maid?”

“Do you think me incapable of drying myself? You forget, Kat, I was not always a queen, and even when I was a mere princess I was not always catered to every single moment.”

I n
odded, thoroughly chastised, and stunned into silence. Did she mean to say that I myself had been spoiled?

She dried herself quickly and wrapped the linen around
her waiflike figure, stalking to the fire, where she held out her hands. “Besides, if you were to fetch one of my other ladies, would that not defeat the purpose of paying one off to leave you alone with me? Who was it? I shall see her punished. You might have come here with nefarious intent.”

Despite the teasing tone in her voice, I still suspected that beneath the surface, Elizabeth believed
I was capable of trickery. “Majesty, I would never,” I breathed. “And I reassured the maid I would never betray her trust in me.”


I should hope you are not an assassin. Now dress me. Perhaps I should adopt you as my daughter and marry you off right away.”

Did she jest? My mother did yet live, albeit she was quite ill again and unable to attend court. I shoved aside the icy prickle in my stomach at her words of marriage, for I knew she did not want me to marry Ned… No, she would seek some
far-off groom to get me out of her sight, and out of England’s mind—not that I was there to begin with. I prayed the people of England did not wish to see another Grey daughter of the blood be innocently persecuted for someone else’s gain.

I
pulled on her chemise, tightened her stays, tied on her petticoats, and then began pinning her sleeves, stomacher and ruff to her gown, all in silence, as I was too afraid of what I would say and what she would take away from me.

“You are a good
lady-in-waiting, Kat. You’ve a spirit that reminds me of… me. Perhaps we moved too soon by casting you out of the privy and into the presence. We shall move you back immediately. You tie stays like a expert.”

I should have been excited at the elevation, for it was clear she
trusted in me more, but I was not. A cold snake of fear slithered up my spine and wrapped its way so tightly around my throat, I thought I might choke from it.

Indeed, Elizabeth did move me to
a higher position within her court…and there were no talks yet of marriage. In fact, all of her ladies-in-waiting were counseled to remain chaste, as she had stylized herself virginal, so should we.

That evening
my footsteps echoed in the stone-walled corridor, tapestries billowing at the corners from a draft of an open window. I quickened my steps, quite alone on my way back to my chamber after Her Majesty had been put to bed. The silence was deafening. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Torchlights flickered, and a shiver raced along my skin.

Someone followed me.

I took a deep breath, wishing my dogs were with me, but Elizabeth’s dogs took precedence and when together our animals caused such a ruckus. Since I was still trying to put myself back within the queen’s favor, I capitulated and sent them back to my room. Suddenly, I stopped and whirled. Beyond the torchlight, the corridor was dark and bathed in dancing shadows. “Who is there?”

The dark shadows seem
ed to grow thicker, forming an entity. My breath stilled. An apparition? Of who? Jane? A man stepped forth and pulled the black hood from his head, revealing his long, slim, calculating face.

Cecil
.

“Master Cecil,” I breathed out, somewhat in relief, but then my heart sped up again.
I kept my hands at my sides, did not clench them as I wanted to, but endeavored to appear calm. Why was he trailing me in the dark? Why was I frightened? After all, he was more than just the queen’s secretary, he was…her henchman, too.

“My lady,” he said in his raspy soft voice. “
Will you allow me the pleasure of escorting you back to your room?”

I wanted to shout
,
No!
But how could I deny him? My resistance would only return to Elizabeth, and then she would have cause once again to be suspicious of me. “If it pleases.”

He walked up to my side, his long
, snakelike fingers coming from within the depths of his endless black cloak to curl around my elbow. “How do you find Her Majesty?”

What sort of question was that? How was I to answer?
He propelled me forward at a clipped pace, as though he, too, ran from the shadows.

“Pardon, sir?”

“Do you believe she will be good for England?”

Why when he asked me these questions did I feel he meant something else?
What did he aspire to discover? I may have been powerless to refuse his escort, but I would not play this game of politics. “Wholeheartedly. The realm has craved her ascension for some time, and I think she will be the healing balm it needs.”

No
physical reaction came from Master Cecil to give me a clue as to how he perceived my comment. “What of her refusing to marry?”

I waved away his question. “She is young. She will do her duty as she sees fit soon enough. I suppose she wishes to make her own way first.
’Tis the way of our fairer sex when placed in a position that men are wont to seize.”

“Ah, but you see, she is not just a woman
. She is the queen, and a queen cannot play the same games as a mere lady. No offense to you, Lady Katherine, but Her Majesty’s marriage is what this entire realm rests on.”

Again, I had no answer for him. I
was not good with politics. It had never interested me. Staying in the queen’s good graces was hard enough.

We turned a corner in the corridor
, and my chamber door was in sight, thank the Lord.

“Speaking of marriag
e…” He trailed off as we reached my door, and I turned to face him. “I would hold off on any plans you may have until Her Majesty is wedded and bedded, and even best if there were an heir to the throne, or two, in the cradle.”

Another obstacle, and years in the making.
I straightened my shoulders and looked him directly in his beady eyes. “Why, sir?”

“You are an intelligent young woman, Lady Katherine. I need not explain it to you. Suffice it to say, Her Majesty
’s claim to the throne is precarious at best right now. She is still deemed illegitimate. She is not married. She has no heirs. You are next in line to the throne. You are legitimate. If you should marry and have children, your claim would hold a better stake than hers.”

“But I would never,
never
take it away from her!” I tried not to shout as I glanced around to see who could have heard his treasonous words. I was so tired of everyone believing I would try to usurp Elizabeth. They could try, as they had with my sister, but I would flatly refuse. I would run.

“If it
’s all the same, my lady, your sister did not intend to do so either. One can never be safe from the plots of conniving men. As you said, men are wont to seize the power for themselves.”

I gritted my teeth but said nothing fu
rther. I wanted to rail about injustice. I wanted to shout that I was nothing like those traitors, that I had seen Jane suffer and would not let myself be used as they had used her. I wanted to raise my fist in the air and declare my betrothal to Ned and then rush to find a priest who would marry us straightaway. But I did none of these things, and my head pounded and ached something fierce. My eyes grew blurry with the pain of a megrim setting in. I blinked hard, and when I opened my eyes again, Cecil had melted back into the shadows, his warning given and not welcome.

I opened my door, feeling dizzy and faint.
Mrs. Helen rushed to my side, undressed me and tucked me between my cold sheets. I was now resigned to the fact that marriage to the man I fiercely loved may never be. I’d been born a damned princess of the blood. My life was not my own. My actions would never be singular. How foolish of me to have ever thought I might have a say in the day-to-day execution of my own existence.

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