The Stolen One (8 page)

The next morning Anna had another one of her spells, not as bad as before, but she could not sit up. The night
before we’d all stayed late at the table, Lady Ludmore full in her cups with joy that her son was home, Lord Ludmore flirting with the maids. He never addressed me, but ah, I could feel his eye on me, aye, I could. Anna pinched me under the table if I even lifted my head in Rafael’s direction. I was just walking back up the stairs with a potion for her when there was a knock at the front door.

“Why, it’s a man dressed in livery, Lady Ludmore!” I heard Maisy exclaim. I turned and listened as the front door was opened. I walked down three steps and peeked. An elegant man in black livery had entered, his extended hand holding a note.

“I’ve been sent by the queen,” he announced, “for the young lady with the flame-red hair.”

W
hen I was a little girl I dreamed I stitched wings of gossamer, with tiny moons and suns embroidered in gold along the edge. I wanted to fly away forever, you see. But I wasn’t able to fly; I could only float above Blackchurch Cottage until finally I was pulled closer and closer to the ground. Grace found me sitting in my night shift on the roof with no clue of how I had got up there nor how long I had been staring at the stars.

And now I found myself standing directly behind Lady Ludmore with no memory of walking down the stairs and across the great room. The door was shut, the liveried man gone. Lady Ludmore turned and held out the note. Anna, I suppose, had stayed upstairs with Bartolome.

I turned the letter over in my hands. There was a beautiful wax seal on the back. An elaborate
E
had been pressed into the purple wax. I opened it carefully and read.

“And what does it say?” Lady Ludmore asked as she poured another goblet of ale for her son.

“I am to attend a masque tonight by orders of the Queen Elizabeth.”

“Well, there’s nothing to be done now.” She sighed. “One doesn’t refuse the queen. I suppose we’ll have to find you a mask. I may have one moldering somewhere.
My
queen was quite fond of a masque when she was young.”

“Am I to dance?” I asked, plopping down in a chair, dizzy. “I don’t know how to dance properly.”

Rafael snorted. “I can teach you to dance.”

“You shall do no such thing,” Lady Ludmore said to him. She turned back to me. “That woman who raised you had to have taught you the simplest of country dances, did she not? You were not complete country rustics, were you? Clearly you can read.”

I held the note up to my chest, near my racing heart. I was to meet the queen! “Grace believed dancing led to dangerous things,” I said.

Rafael snorted again. “Hush,” Lady Ludmore admonished him. “Full of crazy notions, your Grace was, indeed. I’ll have to teach you myself. What shall you wear?”

“The sea green,” I murmured. “It’s the best.”

“The velvet?” she asked. “Yes, perfect.” She stared down upon me. “But that hair of yours! Ava will do it. You will be gorgeous.” She frowned. “Perhaps it’s best it is a masque.”

“I’ll accompany her,” Rafael said as he casually bit into a roasted chicken leg.

I glanced over at Rafael as a shiver went up my back.

“You stink!” Lady Ludmore said, slapping him on the top of his head. “You’d be better off out back with the pigs than near Queen Elizabeth. And stink or not, you’d only do much mischief around the likes of her. She’s always been partial to a pretty boy with a twinkle in his eye.”

“That I’ve heard while I’ve been away,” he started.

“Been away,”
Lady Ludmore interrupted. “Is that what you call it? Missing for ten years? Breaking your mother’s heart? ‘Been away’?”

He waved his hand as if to say he was ceding the point. “I was only going to say I’ve heard she enjoys her men.”

“And the men enjoy her,” Lady Ludmore enjoined. “She has them dancing at her feet.”

I blushed. I still had not moved. The queen! I was to meet the queen! “Up the stairs with you,” Lady Ludmore said. “Ava!” she bellowed. For a woman so small, she carried a very large voice. Ava appeared, her face ashen, her eyes averted from Rafael.

“Prepare two baths, please.” She pointed to Rafael. “His in the courtyard and Katherine’s upstairs. And do her hair properly. Use whatever ornaments of mine I have left, if you please, perhaps the pearl and gold combs.”

Ava nodded and sneaked a peek from under her lashes at Rafael. He smiled back. She retreated, tripping through the door.

“Off with you, Katherine!” I rose to my feet and started to climb the stairs. I lingered on the landing, though, when I heard their voices start up again.

“Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me?”

“I couldn’t stand him any longer, Mamá.”

“He died five years ago,” Lady Ludmore said quietly.

“Yes, I just heard of it,” he said. “I’ve been overseas the last few years. I made a coin or two of my own and decided to return.”

“But ten years, Rafael?” Lady Ludmore replied.

“I found that I rather enjoyed the life of an adventurer. And I did not want to leave it.”

“You did it to spite me?”

“No, Mamá,” he murmured. “I did love you, I did. But life under Father, as you know, was unbearable.”

“I bore it,” she responded. I heard a chair scoot away from the table and the sound of boots receding down the hall.

Lady Ludmore had changed her mind. Apparently Rafael was to accompany me to court. It wasn’t proper for a young lady to go alone, she said, and that was that. So while Rafael bathed, Lady Ludmore showed me some of the courtly dances. “Smile, and perhaps your partner won’t notice your lack of gracefulness,” she snapped after I’d stepped on her feet more than once.

And later, after I’d been bathed, I was plucked like a farmyard chicken. Thin-as-reed eyebrows, I was told, were the style, not the hairy caterpillars I had above my eyes. Ava even held my head and plucked along my hairline, for it seems a high forehead signifies intelligence. Then I was carefully dressed, horse tied I felt, so uncomfortable the undergarments were. Why, I had no
idea a gentle lady wore so many things! A chemise to protect from sweat, a petticoat (my crimson taffeta), a farthingale—a contraption of bands that widened the dress—stockings, a kirtle, the heavy green velvet gown over a forepart, and finally the sleeves. I could barely breathe! My chest nearly spilled over the bodice, and when I tried to drape a handkerchief across the top, like a partlet, Ava pulled it away with a naughty giggle. “If you are to be masked, you oughta show ’em your other assets.” Next she worked on my hair, laying a combing cloth upon my shoulders and gently stroking my curls with ivory combs.

Anna watched sad-eyed and wordless all the while Ava gave her bossy instructions on the care of a lady’s hair. Bartolome sat by Anna’s side until Maisy came and got him for his afternoon prayers.

“Glorious. Your hair is glorious, miss. No rats for you, that is sure.”

“Rats?”

Ava laughed. “Yes, miss. That’s what the queen uses to fluff up her hair. Small bits of real hair, from God knows where, ratted and stuffed in her hair to make it more grand. Named for its shape and the company she keeps.”

“And how would you know of the queen’s hair?” I asked her.

“Maids prattle, high and low,” she responded. It was quiet while she pinned my hair up, working from the back, toward the crown of my head. “Oh my, miss,” she exclaimed, standing back a little from me. “Why, miss, you have a mark, a perfect half-moon.” She pointed behind my ear.

My hand flew to my ear. Anna stood and silently looked, then walked over to the window and peered out, never saying a word.
A devil’s mark is hard to cover
, Piper had said long ago. Her words pierced me now as though she stood next to me.

“Does she ever talk?” Ava asked, looking at Anna.

“When she’s a mind to it,” I answered, distracted by yet another secret Grace had kept from me. A birthmark. A sign of the unlucky—of devils and things unwanted.

Ava laughed. “Lady Ludmore says that’s all we’ve a mind to, us maids. Gossiping and flapping our mouths. There, you do look lovely. Just lovely.” She held up a small mirror.

Clear green eyes peered back at me—seawater green, like the gown I wore. I touched my full lips and thought to myself, Is this alluring? Is this the face that Grace
had so many times spoken of? I’d never felt so beautiful, despite the fact that I couldn’t breathe. Anna came away from the window. She smiled at me, the way one does when it’s the least thing one wants to do.

“Too bad you don’t have any jewelry,” said Ava. “All the ladies at court are heavily adorned. You’ll look as bare as a hedge pig amongst them. Lady Ludmore would likely lend you hers, but she sold many of her pieces when her husband was alive. Gambling being one of his many vices.”

I thought of the necklace still sewn in my traveling dress. Perhaps I should wear it? Nay. It would stay there for now. Thank goodness Lady Ludmore had been able to find a mask. It was quite pretty, with green and golden feathers fanning out around the bejeweled lined eyes. The handle was wrapped in gilded cording.

I held it up to my face. “Why did Rafael leave?”

Ava laughed. “My, you are bold, aren’t you? You just rightly asked what we’ve wondered ourselves for ten long years. And I’ll give you some kindly words, if I may?”

“Of course,” I answered.

“As soon as you get to the masque, excuse yourself on some female errand—at this a man will never question you, mark my words—and lose him for the rest of the night.”

As we pulled away in the carriage, I looked up to see Anna in the window, her hand on Bartolome’s shoulder, staring down at us. She lifted her hand slowly to wave good-bye and, for the first time, I truly did feel that I was leaving her. “You love her, but mark my words, someday you will betray her. You have it in you, a streak of meanness from your father,” Grace had told me once. I waved back, wearing the fancy pearled gloves I’d made at Blackchurch Cottage.

Across the seat, Rafael was watching me intently. He wore a lush black silk doublet, flourished all over with trails of gold twist. It fit his dark looks perfectly. I settled myself as far away from him as I could, catching my hand in the cushion. I glanced down. It was torn. I looked around more closely and I saw that the whole interior of the carriage was shabby, despite its shiny and polished exterior. I would offer later, I told myself, to mend the holes and tears. For now I needed to steady my beating heart. I took a deep breath.

“My mother has always been a strange creature,” Rafael remarked as he looked out the window. “I suppose she’s given my inheritance to the church. Father, curse his soul, would never have allowed things to fall as they have.”

“I hear your father gambled heavily. And you rightly forfeited any inheritance when you left your mother so cruelly,” I remarked. I took another deep breath.

“May I say, Miss Heartbreaker, you do not know from which you speak. And a lady who is silent is much preferred to a lady who speaks too much.” He was smiling, but there was a deep sadness in his dark blue eyes.

“Well, I suppose that’s how you would prefer a lady. Silent.”

“I’m only warning you out of a tender care, I assure you,” he said quietly, looking out the window again at the bustling streets. “Unheeded words have strong consequences.”

I rolled my eyes. As if he had any right to scold me, the scoundrel that he was. I was not going to let him goad me like the wily fox in the henhouse. I had waited for a night like this all my life. Dressed grandly and meeting the queen! Why, I had never even been in a carriage before, much less one led by a uniformed groom. I leaned back against the cushions, closed my eyes, and listened to the steady clip-clop of the horses.

“And what secrets lie behind those lips?” Rafael asked.

“You’ve just told me to stop babbling,” I said, smiling.
I could hear music coming from down the street. Perhaps we were there. “And I shall do as you say.” I gripped my stomach, hoping to calm the wild butterflies.

“I have a feeling you will never do the bidding of any man.”

“And why should I? When the queen does not.”

I stuck my head out the window. Lady Ludmore had told me we would be going to St. James’s Palace, one of the queen’s residences, and indeed a grand red-bricked structure loomed into view. Why, there were even liveried men playing trumpets and drums! And magnificent soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder. And flags and banners! And lots of regular folks jostling and craning to get a better look at the proceedings.

I laughed and leaned farther out the window to watch as many young knights on horses in rich array and gentlemen in grand coats with gold chains about their necks gathered and talked at the palace entrance. Their ladies, shimmering in their gowns, greeted one another.

He pulled me roughly inside. “You are acting the fool,” he hissed. “Sit down, or everyone will know you for the country simpleton that you are.”

My heart burned. I brushed his hands from my waist.
He continued, “And as to your good queen, I must now warn you. She is not the woman her people think she is.”

The carriage came to a sudden stop. A groom opened the door. Rafael brushed past me and stepped out of the carriage first. But then he turned and reached out his hand, and I saw distinctly, as his sleeve went up, a long, vicious scar. A burn scar I was sure it was, for Alice Ogilvey once poured a pot of scalding porridge upon herself and the scar looked the same—like swirled melted wax with the devil himself imprinted there.

I took his hand and as he helped me down I looked into his eyes. “That,” he said, answering my silent question, “was a gift from your
good
queen.”

We walked through the magnificent arched front doors of St. James’s Palace. It was a good thing Rafael had my arm, for I truly thought my heart would beat out of my chest and across the floor. “Your blood beats too hard,” Grace used to say. “That’s why it never reaches your brain.” I swallowed. Why were her words haunting me so now? “Think, child. Think before you use your tongue. It’s the wise woman who does.”

We were led down a long hallway and into a great
room. I clutched the mask to my face, fearful of the wolves of the court whom Grace had long warned me of. But as I looked around, all that I saw was beautiful. Oh, the most sumptuous fabrics, lace ruffs, rich velvets, gold trims, feathers, and plumes! I could barely focus on one lovely gown before another caught my eye. One, pale blue velvet like the morning sky, with tufts of gilt taffeta pulled through the slashed sleeves—a partlet of white passamaine lace edged in gold. And another, a pearled and spangled French gown of tawny orange satin with raised embroidered unicorns and feathers. And the jewels, so fine and noble—simmering strands of pearls, and large sparkling stones, as large as sparrows’ eggs. And I’d never seen men so finely dressed—the workmanship and embroidery were as rich as the women’s. In the country a man might not change his dusty clothes for a fortnight! A new gown caught my eye—a maiden’s blush-colored satin patterned with moons and suns, stitched with spangled rays on the silk sleeves. I glanced up to find the woman, no maiden she was, making eyes at Rafael, who refused to wear his mask. He winked back at her.