The King's Mistress (33 page)

“God is merciful,” I said. I, too, was feeling better and found it easier to talk than I had the previous day.

Dom Hanneye withdrew to a seat and at once bowed his head in prayer.

With his good arm, Richard Lyons pulled up a chair beside my bed. His injured arm was bound close to his side.

“Mistress Alice,” he said, bobbing his head, “God has answered our prayers.”

“How is your arm?” I asked.

“It will mend. Are you in much pain?”

“Better today. Who were they?”

“I do not know. I have been told only that the king commends us for saving your life and that of your maidservant, and that the men clearly intended to kill you. Other than that, the king’s man says that his information is for your ears only.”

His manner was much humbler than usual, and I sensed a mixture of weariness and unease in it.

“The king’s man? But the company left Abington for London only yesterday.”

“Several days ago, Mistress Alice. You were set upon three nights ago.”

Three nights. “I slept so long?” That I had lost so much time was not at all reassuring.

“You slept a day, and they say you then woke for a little while, and afterward slept another day. In that time a messenger reached the king and returned with Richard Stury, his most trusted esquire, and a small retinue. Stury will come to speak to you later.”

I crossed myself at this news and prayed for God to watch over me. Stury was an esquire of the king’s chamber who had risen from the position of valet by his unflinching loyalty to his master, his cunning, and the fact that his grandfather had been in the diplomatic service of the king’s father. Courtiers were uneasy when Stury was about, for he
was rumored to spy for the king as his grandfather had done for the previous King Edward. If the king had sent a man such as Stury, he must believe this attack had something to do with his mother’s secret, the business that had already robbed me of so much. Would I ever be free from Isabella’s curse? I imagined I would have been questioned by my abductors and then, when they were satisfied that I knew nothing, I would have been murdered, as had Master Martin, Janyn, and Dame Tommasa. I had never believed their deaths were from illness.

“You’ve nothing to fear now, Mistress Alice,” said Richard. “You are well protected. We shall return to Windsor Castle with a strong escort.”

I might have believed I had nothing to fear had it been my person someone wanted. A man thinking to violate me would now know that I had powerful protectors. But Isabella’s secret, whatever it was, seemed to have a power of its own, and I could no longer doubt the danger it had brought me to. I was a prisoner in the queen’s household. No matter that my prisons were royal palaces, they still enclosed me.

Richard waited for my response. I felt humbled by the danger in which he had placed himself on my account.

“Tell me what happened,” I said. “Who raised the hue and cry? How did you know to come?”

Gwen interrupted, bringing a physick she insisted I drink at once. It was unpleasantly thick and slimy, and tasted of rotten greenery and damp earth. I tried to hand back the cup after a little sip, but she shook her head and would not take it from me.

“Dame Juliana says that a head wound such as yours that cannot be bled must be fumigated with a strong physick. This will restore your strength and your memory. Do you not think that worth a brief bad taste?”

I drank, though it was the most disgusting liquid I had ever forced down my throat. Gwen rewarded me afterward with spiced wine, which did wash down most of the aftertaste.

Richard had waited quietly throughout the interruption.

“In answer to your question, we had planned all along to guard the convent. But, alas, we gathered too late. They must have already been within the walls when you arrived. The moment they appeared in the yard, we fell on them.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

“No.”

“What caused you to plan a guard?” Again, this evidence of his courage on my behalf overwhelmed me.

He shrugged with his good shoulder. “Your husband’s disappearance, his mother’s soon after, the mystery surrounding his father’s death, your being taken into the queen’s household while your daughter is fostered in the home of the Queen of Scotland—it is plain to me that you married into a family singled out in some way, most likely their loyal service to the Lady Isabella.” He waved his good hand at me and shook his head as if I’d begun to tell him, though I’d not opened my mouth. “I confess, I do not care to know more for fear my own life might be forfeit. But for these reasons, Dom Hanneye and I believed we must protect you.”

He sat back in his chair and picked up the cup of wine beside him, gazing down into it.

I was grateful for his courtesy, for the chance it gave me to rein in my emotions. Richard was rightly fearful of sharing our secret.

“I pray you do not suffer for coming to my aid.”

The blush that spread even to his ears suggested a vulnerable side to him that I had not seen before.

“I thank God I had the foresight to be there, and to include the bailiff in our plans.”

My vision blurred then and Richard’s voice seemed to come from far away. When next I woke a stranger sat beside me. For a moment I thought he had been conjured from the unholy slime I had obediently drunk. Dark brown hair and eyes, dark cloak, a dull green jacket, and brown leggings and boots.

“Mistress Alice,” he said, bowing his head. “I am Richard Stury, King’s esquire.”

Only then did I recognize him. I feared the physick had worsened my condition, not improved it.

“Yes, I have seen you at court, Master Stury.”

For a moment I thought we were alone in the room and was about to ask that Gwen be permitted to return, but she came forward just then, proffering a cup I was loath to accept until she assured me it was merely watered wine, not a physick. She quickly withdrew to a seat near the door.

“Your lady’s maid has your complete trust?” asked Stury.

“Yes.”

I sipped the wine as he explained how he came to be there, most
of which I had already learned from Richard Lyons. While he spoke I studied him. He might have been a clerk with his tall, skinny body and pinched features. His mouth seemed to hold a perpetual grimace, and though I would have guessed him to be no more than ten years my senior, he already had deep creases between his brows—indeed, they remained knitted together even when he uttered a pleasantry or paused to think. He held his hands on his lap as if he were forcing them still.

“I am most grateful for the king’s concern,” I said. “I know you to be one of his most trusted esquires.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment of the compliment. “His Grace had no doubt that the attackers knew of your late husband’s service to his mother, the Lady Isabella. That is why I am here—I am one of only a few in the household who have been entrusted with the knowledge of your family’s connection to the former queen.”

“Do you know the men who attacked me?”

“I have known of them, though I met them only as corpses.”

“I thought one was yet alive.”

“He died this morning.” In his dark eyes there was not a flicker of emotion.

I crossed myself and said a prayer.

“I would not pray too fervently for his soul, Mistress Alice. It will do little good. He meant to interrogate and then defile you before he murdered you, I have no doubt.”

I pressed my hand to my throat, shuddering at what might have happened. “For whom did they work, Master Stury?”

“You do not need to know that. My orders were simply to reassure you that all is resolved.”

“Are you mad? How am I to defend myself if I know not my enemies?”

“The king protects you, Mistress Alice.”

“It was not the king who saved my life and that of my maid.”

“You need fear nothing.”

“Why? Are you taking the lives of all my would-be questioners as they become known to you, before they have a chance to attack me?”

Stury rose. “We shall escort you to Windsor in the morning. I pray you, rest before the journey.” At the door he paused, then turned to say, “At court they have been told that outlaws attacked your traveling party. Masses have been said for you and for your rescuers.” With a curt bow, he departed.

And so I learned the extent of the prison I inhabited. I feared I might now never again be free to move about outside court. And I began to wonder—was I protected or was I the lure? Why did that question suddenly occur to me? I prayed for courage. I prayed for my daughter’s safety.

O
N THE
journey I felt a heaviness, as if I were returning in disgrace. If I could not be trusted with the names of my enemies, what was my worth? I won a small victory, though, convincing the men I would be more at ease on horseback rather than being bruised afresh in a cart. The weather had turned colder and a drizzle kept us all hooded and quiet, so my brooding silence went unnoticed.

Richard Lyons was subdued in Stury’s company. He had greeted me in the morning, then left me to make my farewells to Dom Hanneye, who had hoped to return with us to attend the prince’s wedding but had received the disappointing news that his bishop wished him to remain in Oxford.

“Are you being punished for defending me?” I asked, gently touching the discolored flesh between his brows.

“To my surprise, I am being promoted to a more significant benefice here in Oxford, on the understanding I will not talk of the recent incident.” He bowed to me.

“I am happy for you, though this promotion be a form of bondage.” He shrugged. “I willingly took a vow of obedience. Never hesitate to summon me if you are in need, Dame Alice.”

I thought of our silken bonds all the way to Windsor Castle—Dom Hanneye’s promotion in exchange for his silence, an imprisonment of the mind, a restraint on speech if not on thought, the protective custody in which I traveled, and, once back in the queen’s household, my restriction to the more-than-comfortable palace where all my physical needs were cared for with the best of everything, yet still I was caged. All those I loved were unreachable, untouchable.

W
EARY AND
disheartened, with a pounding head and throbbing bruises, on my arrival in the inner bailey of the castle I wanted nothing but to go to bed. Gwen and I walked slowly, arm in arm. My head, ankles, and lower back complained, but I was glad to be moving on my own account. In the queen’s hall we were met by a servant who led us past the queen’s chamber, and far past the one I shared with
the other waiting women, to an unfamiliar room that was pretty and private, and just before the doorway to the king’s part of the palace.

“Master Adam, His Grace’s physician, has been informed that you have arrived. He asks that you send a servant to fetch him when you have taken some refreshment and have rested.”

He was gone. A moment later a maidservant arrived with wine, cold meats, and bread. “Do you require anything else, Mistress Alice?”

When she departed, Gwen and I stood for a moment in the warmth of the brazier, gazing around at the wall hangings depicting young men and women hawking, the large bed hung with gold and green curtains, and my best shift laid out on it. A washing basin stood beside a simmering kettle.

“Is this to be your chamber now?” Gwen wondered aloud.

“Surely not. Perhaps we were shown here for the physician’s ease—so that we might be alone, and in a chamber near the king’s household.” But I did wonder whether it signaled I was thought to be in danger even in the palace, and so I was kept close to His Grace’s guards. I pushed aside my fear, too weary at the moment to consider it.

“The king’s own physician!” Gwen breathed, and I read in her eyes a fear that perhaps I’d been more seriously injured than Dame Juliana had confided to her.

“Do not worry, Gwen. Look how well I rode, and walked all this way.”

Indeed, by the next day Master Adam had pronounced me fit enough to go about my usual activities as long as I rested in the afternoon. That evening Her Grace requested that I prepare her almond milk. While I sat with her a servant showed me the clothing for the wedding festivities, and I made suggestions for the finishing touches, an enjoyable pastime. I was grateful I had returned before the festivities.

“I have decided that after my eldest son and his new wife are thoroughly wed and have departed to Berkhampstead, you and I shall amuse ourselves by fitting you out with an entirely new set of clothes,” said the queen with an enigmatic smile.

I had brought with me from my married life what I considered to be a gorgeous collection of gowns, capes, headdresses, shoes, jewelry, and other accoutrements suitable for a wealthy merchant’s wife, and had added to it in my time at court. “Your Grace, are my gowns displeasing to you?”

“They were suitable, Alice, but now you are a woman of the court.”
She seemed about to say more, then waved me away. “To bed with you. I shall need you tomorrow, so you must rest.”

“Your Grace, I called for a servant to move my belongings back to my usual bedchamber and he said that I am to remain in the private one. I think there is some confusion.”

“There is no confusion. Now off to bed!” She shooed me out of the room.

After my nap the following afternoon I felt much revived. I recounted to Gwen the queen’s plan for new clothes for me.

“This chamber, the king’s physician, new gowns …?” She shook her head. “It is as if your ordeal has caused the king and queen to examine their parts in unraveling your family, and are trying to make amends.”

Our shared ordeal seemed to have removed any last constraint between mistress and maid.

“You are one of my greatest blessings, Gwen,” I told her.

Her eyes filled with tears and her smile was uneven. “God graced me when I joined your household, mistress.”

After a thorough study of my gowns we conceded that a few had been redone too many times—buttons, pearls, and ribbons removed and replaced so often that the cloth was unevenly worn and holes and pulls remained, despite Gwen’s best efforts. At last we stood thoughtfully regarding the pile of clothing on the bed.