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Authors: Lady Grace Cavendish

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Olwen put her arm around Lady Sarah and clucked over her. “Ah, now then, my lady, he didn’t do it, so now.”

Lady Sarah took a deep breath and shook her head. “And then there was a shout that they’d seen the Spanish ship sent out by the Duke of Alva—who
is apparently a terrible pirate, and attacks any English and Dutch ships he can find. And then the Spanish ship started chasing us, which was even more frightening, so Captain Derby went out on deck. And while he was gone, I noticed that our guard had had quite a lot to drink, so I played cards with him and got him more drunk, and then Olwen crept up behind him and hit him on the head with a tray. Then we locked the door and barred the windows, so when Captain Derby came back with his chaplain, ready to marry me, he couldn’t get in.” Lady Sarah shook her head. “He was furious—and he called me so many evil names, I was quite sure I didn’t want to marry such a raving bully.

“Olwen and I stayed up all night, to make sure he didn’t break in—when he wasn’t busy trying to sail away from the Spaniard, that is. And in the morning, there was cannon fire—which was terribly frightening—so we hid under the table. There was such a creaking and banging, and then a big roaring, clattering fight that went on and on! And finally, I heard
your
voice, Captain Drake!” she finished, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I am
so
grateful to you!”

I had to choke back a laugh at that—typical Lady Sarah, I thought. There she was, just rescued from
a fate worse than death—and still, she couldn’t help flirting!

“I’ll not take all the credit, my lady,” said Drake with a tilt of his head. “Hugh Derby was one of my best friends. I would have trusted him with my life—my ship, even. The first I knew of what had happened to you was when your pageboy showed me the letter that was supposed to have come from you to the Queen, saying you were eloping with me. He’s a good lad, my lady—I’d keep him by you if I was you. He slipped away from Court and crept onto the
Judith
because he thought I had you locked up here somewhere. And then, when he found out the truth, he came to me with the letter and told all he knew.”

“But
you
did all the fighting to save me, didn’t you, Captain?” Sarah gave Drake a dazzling smile. She didn’t look grateful for all
my
hard work at all. And there was only one more marmelada sweetmeat left in the box, which I just knew she was going to take. And there it went. Typical!

“I’m always happy to fight—me and my crew with me.” Drake grinned that ferocious piratical grin of his, and laughed. “It’s a good Sunday’s sport for us. And your young Gregory, and Masou, they fought from the top, shooting arrows and throwing fire
pots. They’ll be fine men one day. If you have thanks to give for your rescue, you should reward them, too.”

I felt myself blushing because I was so pleased to have Drake’s respect. He is one of those people who makes you feel like a king—or a queen—if he praises you. I would far rather have his respect than any amount of cooing from Lady Sarah.

Sarah nodded to Masou and me—but then she looked down and sighed. “Though all is lost, anyway—for my reputation is now ruined,” she said quietly. “I will have to marry a merchant—or even a lawyer.”

I had to say something, so I bent on one knee, as a pageboy should, and said, “No, you won’t, my lady. For nobody knows you’ve been gone.”

Sarah blinked at me dimly. “Why not?” she asked.

“Because I’ve had Mary Shelton give out that you and—you have a quinsy and have been in bed,” I explained.

“You have? Really?” Sarah said incredulously, her face brightening.

“Yes, my lady. All we have to do is smuggle you back into the palace without anyone noticing, and
then to our—your chamber, and nobody will ever know what happened.”

Lady Sarah clapped her hands and laughed in delight. “Are you sure?”

“So long as you and Olwen don’t tell anybody,” I added, knowing Lady Sarah.

“Why, that’s a wonderful idea.” Then her face fell. “Except it means that Derby won’t go to the Tower for abducting me.”

Drake poured Lady Sarah some more wine. “I’ll free him when we get to Tilbury,” he told her. “It’s not justice, right enough, but I doubt he’ll set sail in his own ship again, for he was in debt to fit out the
Arrow,
and she’ll need a new mast and yards as well. He’ll have to sell her, and then the only way he can set to sea is sailing as someone else’s mate or purser.”

“You sound sorry for him, Captain Drake,” said Lady Sarah, a little petulantly.

“I
am
sorry for him, even though he betrayed our friendship and tried to have me blamed for his crime,” Drake replied. “By his own fault and sinfulness he has lost the finest thing a man can have.”

“A wife,” said Olwen knowingly to Lady Sarah.

Drake looked puzzled. “No, a ship,” he corrected.

Lady Sarah and Olwen both looked a little put out at that. They were used to courtly gentlemen, after all.

Drake waved a hand, completely unaware of this. “When you’re master of your own ship, you’re as free as the wind. You can set sail upon a day, and go all round the world, visiting strange and wonderful lands—and all the time you are in your own house, with your household around you.”

“Will you ever marry, Captain Drake?” Lady Sarah asked, a little flirtatiously.

“Aye.” He smiled at her. “I’m minded to ask Mr. Newman for his daughter’s hand, for she’s a pretty little thing, and used to sailors—and I’ve the money to keep a wife like her, now.”

Sarah now looked
very
put out. “Oh,” she said pointedly. “You are not ambitious in your choice of wife, then?”

I saw Drake’s blue eyes turn sharp, and thought, You have lost him now, Lady Sarah—if ever you truly had him.

Drake laughed. “Ambitious? Not for a wife wealthier and of higher blood than me, no. But ambitious to sail about the world and take satisfaction in blood from the treacherous Spaniards? Yes. That I am.” He put his silver goblet down with a
sharp tap and stood up. “Now, ladies, I know you must be weary from watching all night, and in need of rest. I’ll bunk down in the Mate’s cabin, and I desire you to make yourself free with anything you need in here.”

Sarah nodded her thanks. “Oh, and Captain,” she trilled, “may we have Masou and Gr—egory, to guard us in the night?”

Drake frowned. “You are in no danger on this ship, my lady,” he said.

Sarah’s eyes opened wide. “From the mice, Captain. There were dreadfully big ones on Derby’s ship, you know.”

Drake shook his head and chuckled. “Of course,” he said. “Gregory and Masou, you stay here—and behave yourselves, or I’ll give you what for in the morning.”

“Aye, Captain,” said Masou and I together, nearly dying of trying not to laugh.

“Goodnight, ladies,” said Drake as he went to the door. “By the early hours of the morning, with this wind and God willing, we’ll be in Tilbury.” And he bowed courteously.

Lady Sarah and Olwen curtsied back. I caught myself just in time, and bowed like Masou.

As soon as the Captain had shut the door behind
him, Masou and I fell on the remains of the dinner. I don’t think I’d like to be a pageboy. It’s agony watching people gobble up all the sweetmeats when you’re really hungry for one.

“Grace?” asked Lady Sarah, not sounding quite sure. “Is it really Grace?”

“Mmph,” I said, nodding. My mouth was full of game pie.

Olwen stared at me, gave a little shriek, and sat down suddenly. “What …?” she gasped. “What have you done with your hair?”

Honestly! What a daft question. “I cut it off, of course,” I said impatiently.

“Is it true, what Captain Drake said you did, Grace?” Lady Sarah asked incredulously. “You came to find me, and you were in the battle?”

I nodded. “Well, high up above it,” I dismissed, not wanting Lady Sarah to make her usual fuss. “And Masou was there, too, of course.”

“Oh,” said Lady Sarah, shaking her head. “How extraordinary. … Was it very hard work?”

I thought about this. “Yes,” I said, “it was. So—are there any more marmelada sweetmeats?”

As we were arranging the little cabin for the night, there came a knock on the door. The Boatswain entered, carrying a basket. He was smiling fondly.
“Now then, m’dears, these here ladies’ll take care of you …,” he said—which puzzled me until I realized he was talking to something in the basket.

He put it on the table and Sarah and Olwen peered in, then started to coo and exclaim. I peeked, too, and saw the mother cat and her kittens, now looking much happier. The kittens were asleep, with their paws curled on their fat little tummies, and the mother cat was purring.

“She’m the maddest cat I ever saw! Fancy her taking her kittens all the way up the mast! Tom fetched her down,” said the Boatswain, who now didn’t seem nearly so fierce. “Can you take care of her, ladies?” he asked. “She’s a fine ratter, and her kittens are shaping well, what’s more.”

It was a silly question, really. Nobody could resist them, and soon they were in the warmest, safest corner, with Olwen feeding the mother scraps of meat-pie filling and Sarah dangling a bit of thread to see if the kittens would play.

We did sleep a little, me and Sarah sharing the little cot, and Olwen on a pallet, with poor Masou by the door. But we had to wake up again at about two in the morning because we were nearly there.

As we sailed back into Tilbury, Drake had his gig ready to go up the Thames, and we came to
Greenwich watersteps before it was light. Obviously, the great watergate was closed and locked, but there was a boat unloading loaves of bread by the kitchen steps already.

Lady Sarah and Olwen were muffled up in cloaks, and I led them in—still disguised as a page—telling the Yeoman that they were friends visiting Lady Sarah. I could tell he didn’t believe me, though. He probably thought there was something scandalous going on with the courtiers.

We went through some of the rarely used back passages that Masou knew of, and slipped into our own bedchamber, while Masou kept watch. Then he went off to his own sleeping place to rest.

“I am utterly exhausted,” Sarah said loudly, as Olwen helped her off with her stays. “I am sure it will take me several days to recover from such a terrible ordeal.”

Mary Shelton woke up, and sighed in relief when she saw that we had all returned safely. She was looking quite ill herself, with red eyes and bags under them as well.

Ellie awoke, too, and sat up looking ever so much better—no fever, rosy cheeks. I’d say she was even a little less thin.

Mary climbed out of bed. “What happened to you, Grace?” she demanded, clasping her hands. “Where have you been? I was so desperately
worried
! I’ve been praying and praying for your safe return. I nearly went and told the Queen when you weren’t back by last night!”

“Good thing I had the sense to stop you, eh?” said Ellie. “I know Grace.” She gave me a big hug, and squawked with laughter at how I looked with my hair short, and in boys’ clothes. I took them off and bundled them up for her to take back to the tumblers’ tiring room. Then I changed my shift and got into bed, with every bone in my body aching with relief and tiredness.

Mary Shelton was so kind, she even said she’d wait to hear the whole story until I had slept. And then my eyes closed by themselves, as Lady Sarah got on with telling of her adventures.

Before I knew it, it was midday and Mary Shelton was shaking me awake for dinner. She had brought a tray of food, which we demolished. I was absolutely starving, and even Ellie was impressed at how much I ate.

I have spent the afternoon writing everything I
could remember of my adventures in my daybooke. After all, I was ill with a quinsy, wasn’t I? And so was Lady Sarah. It was essential that nobody find out where Sarah had really been, for even though she was kidnapped and taken against her will, her reputation would still be ruined if the truth came out. So we stayed in our chamber and let it be known that we couldn’t possibly attend the Queen when we were both still so ill.

When I’d written down my adventures (thank goodness I’d been able to make some notes or I’d never have remembered everything), I read selected bits out to Mary and Ellie, and Sarah and Olwen, and they laughed and gasped and oohed, just as if I were a proper storyteller.

By then, Ellie was so much better that, when the coast was clear, she crept out of the bedchamber and went back to the laundry.

Mary Shelton went to fetch my Uncle Cavendish this evening, so that he could examine Sarah and me, and pronounce us recovered from the quinsy. He came and looked at our throats, felt our pulses and foreheads—then solemnly pronounced our quinsies quite abated, thanks to his care.

Masou came creeping in to see us, too, and I had to read my account to them all again, with
Masou adding comments when he thought I had forgotten something important. Mary, Sarah, and Olwen all listened and gasped in disbelief and clapped. I’ve even started to wonder myself if I really did all that—did I really climb a mast, fight in a battle?

T
HE
E
LEVENTH
D
AY OF
M
AY
,
IN THE
Y
EAR OF
O
UR
L
ORD
1569

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