Witchrise (25 page)

‘I do not know what it means, my lady, but we may not ask the same question twice, it is not permitted by the spirits.’ I was almost hissing at her, I realized too late, desperate for it to be over. My forehead was burning where it had touched the mandrake root, and I could feel a strange dark presence in the room with us. I sensed that the mandragora root was growing restless, unwilling to be questioned any further.

‘But you must ask again,’ she insisted.

‘His answer was,
no man
. That is all I can tell you, my lady.’

The candle suddenly flickered and went out. We knelt in silence, both frozen and listening. First a hiss came from the mandragora root, then a low rumble rolled threateningly about in the darkness like thunder.

Elizabeth gave a sharp cry and stumbled to her feet. ‘I will not be frightened by that . . .
thing
.’

‘No, my lady,’ I warned her, but it was too late. She had run to the window in her panic and throw open the shutters on glorious sunshine, instantly breaking the spell.

Dazzled by the flood of light, I fumbled for the black silk and threw it over the exposed mandragora man. Thanking him in a hurried whisper, I wrapped him up again, protecting his withered root against the sunlight.

Elizabeth was trembling, standing against the window, her face white as she looked back at me. ‘What did it mean, Meg?’

‘I am not sure.’

‘Never to be married!’ She bit her lip so hard I saw blood beading there, then she gasped, ‘Because the man I love is already married? Or because no man . . .
no man will have me?
’ Her eyes grew horribly wide. ‘Will I become sick? Disfigured, perhaps?’

She put her hands to her cheeks, staring at me in sudden bewildered consternation, and I did not know how to answer her.

Then she shook her head, struggling to slow her breathing. ‘No, no, that is a foolish thought. Once I am Queen of England, dozens of princes will come to offer me marriage, even if I am hunchbacked and at death’s door. The question remains, is it marriage that I want, or only the thing that prompts it?’

She let her arms fall back to her sides, her emotions under control again. ‘Tell me, Meg,’ she asked softly, ‘what would you choose in my place? Freedom or marriage? To rule or be ruled?’

‘What would a man’s answer be, my lady?’

‘Ah, very good.’

I wanted to comfort her. ‘Perhaps the divination was incorrect.’

‘Or you misheard the spirit.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Or perhaps heard nothing at all, and told a lie to cover your own failure.’

My temper flared at that unjust accusation, but I gritted my teeth. Would she have spoken like this to John Dee if the famous astrologer had drawn up a chart and told her she would never marry? I doubted it, I thought savagely. But then I was a woman and this was women’s magick. Not the scientific findings of an educated man.

‘My lady, I promise you that is not true. I repeated the whisperings of the mandragora root exactly as I heard them. I have no wish to distress you.’

‘Well, all this is superstitious nonsense. I may marry one day, I may not. To own the truth, I am in no hurry to choose a husband – there is still plenty of time.’ Crossing to the table, she took up the miniature portrait of Robert Dudley and stared at it broodingly. ‘Go, leave me alone,’ she insisted, her face in shadow. ‘And burn that dreadful thing. It is an abomination.’

I hurried away, my senses still raw and prickling from the brutal way the spell had ended, and found Richard skulking in the corridor, a knowing smile on his face.

‘So the princess did not warm to the answers you gave her? No surprise there. It can be a double-edged sword, divination.’ Richard caught my arm as I tried to pass him without replying. ‘Don’t burn it, Meg.’

‘I am not a fool,’ I replied, and shook my arm loose. ‘Besides, her temper will soon cool. She is only angry because she hoped to hear the name Robert Dudley.’

The weather the next day was fine again, a rising mist just after dawn, then a delicious balmy heat that made it hard to force myself into my heavy-skirted gown and woollen stockings. Since we had agreed to make no push to rescue Cecilie until the next full moon, after the ritual of prayers followed by breakfast we wandered out into the gardens instead, Alejandro playing the lute for us while I read my mother’s grimoire out of sight of the hall windows and William played chess with Alice. Richard hovered about on the edge of this hive of activity, ostensibly looking for insects to use as fish bait down in the pond, though several times I caught him looking at me with some dark intent in his eyes.

We were all as bad as each other, I thought achingly: Alejandro unable to let go of his love for me, me unable to make a clean break with
him
, and Richard following us silently about, burning inside for what he could never have.

Though in truth, I had found myself growing closer to the conjuror’s apprentice this summer. Richard, at least, had no problem with who I was. And blunt straightforwardness was fast becoming a quality I prized.

Suddenly Richard gave a warning shout, pointing away to the road south. We all turned to look, and my heart stuttered at the sight of a dust cloud just visible above the treeline. As the dust cloud grew closer the sound of horses could be heard too, undoubtedly heading our way.

Alice stared, shielding her eyes. ‘What is it?’

‘Horsemen, and a fair number of them by the sound of it,’ I said, suddenly afraid that news of my battle against Marcus had somehow reached the court.

Yet how could it have done?

I stood up, telling myself not to be so stupid. Simply because there were so many horsemen, it need not be a message from the Queen. ‘Whoever it is, we had best go inside. Her ladyship will wish to prepare herself for their arrival.’

But as we watched, the first outrider cleared the trees and turned down the track towards the house. The rider was in dark livery, carrying a white and gold pennant, and behind him rode half a dozen men, dressed with equal sobriety, with one man at the centre of the pack, richly cloaked and capped like a noble courtier.

‘Goodness,’ Alice said blankly.

It was a deputation from the court, without any doubt.

I lifted my skirts and ran back to the house without waiting to see if the others were following, and met the Lady Elizabeth hurrying downstairs, her ladies tripping behind her, all three women breathless and unsure of themselves.

The princess stopped on the stairs, looking down at me, a flush in her cheeks. ‘Meg, who is it? Could you see?’

‘Half a dozen horsemen, my lady. From their livery and the gold pennant they carry, I would say they come from the Queen.’

Elizabeth made a tiny strangled noise under her breath. Kat hurried to her side at once, murmuring in her ear, her voice low and soothing.

‘Yes, yes, you are right,’ Elizabeth whispered to Kat, then raised her chin with an effort.

Coming into the hall, she swept to the high-backed chair beside the hearth and seated herself there, arranging her full skirts to best advantage, careful to hide her scuffed slippers from sight, for she had no money for new shoes.

The others had trailed in behind me, and now stood about the hall, staring at each other nervously.

‘Blanche, pass me the prayer book. I shall read aloud from the psalms.’ She glanced at the rest of us, then spoke briskly. ‘Meg, sit with Alice and attend to your embroidery. Blanche, take up the lute and play a few chords. Kat, you will remain with me.’

‘Of course, my lady,’ Kat agreed, and clicked her fingers at the rest of us so that we scurried into position.

Richard, having been given no task to perform, stood at the foot of the stairs with his arms folded, his gaze on the door. I was not fooled by his apparent nonchalance. His eyes glittered and his body was tense. Then I remembered that he had seen John Dee arrested once, for illegally drawing up the Queen’s horoscope; no doubt he feared these men had come to take the princess to the Tower.

I was a little afraid of that myself.

Alejandro had disappeared upstairs, perhaps to change into his doublet and fetch his sword, for he had been wearing a simple white robe in the garden. If fighting were required, I knew he would prefer not to be wearing priestly garb.

Although unschooled in the instrument, Blanche took up the abandoned lute with trembling fingers and managed to strum a few awkward chords before there was a hammering at the door. She faltered and stared at the Lady Elizabeth, then at the door.

‘
Veni!
’ the princess called clearly in Latin, inviting the visitors to come in.

The door was thrown open and sunlight poured into the hall. A man stood on the threshold, booted and cloaked, his gaze flashing about the room at each one of us before he ducked his head to enter the house. He was tall, dark eyes gleaming in an olive-skinned face, and his bow to the princess was exaggerated to the point of insolence.

Miguel de Pero.

My hands had clenched into fists as he came forward into the Great Hall, my nails digging into my palms at the very sight of him. I was trembling and felt as though my blood had turned to ice-water in my veins.

‘My lady,’ the Chief Inquisitor addressed the princess smoothly, then straightened without waiting for her permission, replacing his black velvet skullcap.

There was an ironic smile on his face, for he was no doubt aware how much he was hated by our small company at Hatfield – and how little we could do to prevent his intrusion here.

‘Pray forgive my unexpected arrival. I would have sent ahead to allow you to prepare for my visit, but alas, the urgency of my mission would not allow for any warning.’

The Lady Elizabeth did not move, but closed the prayer book she had been pretending to read. ‘Sir?’

Alice nudged me to keep sewing, and I realized that I had been staring at the Spaniard like a madwoman. I ground my teeth and slowly set three crooked scarlet stitches into a country scene composed only of soft greens and browns. It was hard to sit there and pretend disinterest while he explained his errand.

Then I remembered who was
not
here. Alejandro.

Staring at the stairs in sudden apprehension, I gripped the edge of the embroidery frame, wondering whether Alejandro knew who had arrived. Richard caught my eye, and with some difficulty I forced myself to relax. It would not do to give away my vulnerability to this man.

De Pero’s smile showed his appreciation of the princess’s icy dislike. ‘I bring you most cordial greetings from Her Royal Majesty, Queen Mary of England, and humbly beg a private audience with your ladyship at your earliest convenience.’

Elizabeth glanced at Kat Ashley, but said nothing.

Alice tugged at my sleeve, her whisper terrified. ‘Wh . . . what does that mean?’

‘It means he wants to speak to her alone,’ I replied shortly, and bit my embroidery thread in two, setting aside the needle as the Lady Elizabeth waved us all to leave her.

Alice and I rose from our bench, ready to follow the other women from the hall.

‘And if Señor de Castillo could also join us?’ he added sharply.

My hand flailed in shock at this unexpected request, and I knocked into the embroidery frame. It clattered noisily to the floor, and De Pero’s head swung round at the sound, dark eyes narrowing as he recognized me, his lips thinning, his aquiline nose flaring.

He knew.

He knew about me and Alejandro. About my magick. About our secret betrothal. I doubted though that he knew it was over between us. For not even the others here at Hatfield knew that for sure.

Under the Spaniard’s cold stare, I experienced a terror such as I had never known before.

No threat to my own life had ever felt so acute as the fear that burned through me as I saw into the Inquisitor’s heart and knew that he had come here for Alejandro.

I paced my chamber, pausing before the window to stare down at the men waiting beside their horses outside. Then I returned aimlessly to the book beside my bed.

My mother’s grimoire.

I turned a few pages restlessly, not reading the words but viewing them in a daze. I was alone with Richard, and glad of his company. Kat and Blanche had scurried anxiously away to talk when we were all sent upstairs, and Alice had sidled into William’s room, leaving me and Richard alone.

From the Great Hall we could hear the rumble of male voices, and occasionally her ladyship interrupting. Richard had been lying on the bed, watching me with expressionless eyes as I paced back and forth.

But when I abruptly turned and made for the door, he leaped up to stop me.

‘No,’ Richard insisted, pinning my arms effortlessly to my sides when I struggled. ‘Don’t be a fool, Meg. You are not wanted down there. Let this play out.’

‘They won’t see me. I can make myself invisible.’

Richard cocked his head to one side, regarding me steadily. ‘Eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves. Besides, I know you. You won’t be able to enter a room unseen and not make your presence felt. A whisper in de Pero’s ear, a soft breath across Alejandro’s cheek, perhaps rustling a few pages of a book . . .’

I pushed him away. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘I’m perfectly serious. You have to let this happen, Meg. It’s for the best, you will see that in time.’

‘How is it for the best?’

‘This man, this Spanish Inquisitor . . . he’s come to take Alejandro away, hasn’t he?’

Nausea gripped me as he voiced the very fear I had been trying to avoid looking at, though it had been mocking me all the time from the corner. This damn heat. I could not think, could not concentrate. Distractedly I dragged off my white cap and shoved a hand through my straggly fair hair. It needed taming, but I could not be bothered to find my comb. ‘We don’t know that for sure.’

‘Yes, we do.’ Richard’s face was hard, unyielding. His voice was like a knife, stabbing at my heart. ‘Alejandro has been playing a dangerous game with you, but it ends today. I saw de Pero’s face, the way he looked at you. He has come to finish it. Alejandro does not belong here.’