The Lady Elizabeth (28 page)

“I am glad to see you well, and I bid you good day, ladies,” he said, bowing, and departed.

“Well!” Kat breathed. “That was most irregular!”

“I think he came for a jest,” Elizabeth said, her heart racing.

“He had better not come again,” Kat retorted, agitated, although it did her heart good to see her charge looking so radiantly happy.

“I’m sure he will not,” Elizabeth replied, but it was hard not to hope that he would.

Two days later, the Admiral returned, bursting into the bedchamber just as Elizabeth was putting on her French hood. He had timed his entrance well, for Kat had just gone in search of a laundress.

“Good morrow, my lady,” he beamed, slapping Elizabeth lightly on the bottom. “How does my stepdaughter today?”

At the touch of his palm, felt through the thickness of her heavy damask skirt, Elizabeth had begun to tingle, and she was struggling to control the sensation. The tingling had started in the pit of her stomach, then spread downward, where it had metamorphosed into the now familiar aching feeling between her legs. Had that been his intention, to arouse her?

“I am well, sir,” she said, her voice barely steady. “Forgive me, I must go to the schoolroom. Master Grindal is waiting.”

“Good, good,” beamed the Admiral. “I am pleased to see you so eager to be at your studies.”

“I love learning, as you know,” Elizabeth told him. “Now, if you will excuse me.” And she more or less fled out the door.

Elizabeth stretched out between the sheets. Through a chink in the bed curtains she could see that it was still dull in the room. Dawn had not yet broken fully, so she could indulge in a few extra minutes in bed. Sleepily, she turned over.

Suddenly, the curtains were pulled apart and there was the Admiral, devastatingly handsome, smiling down at her.

“Still abed?” he cried. “Good morrow, my lady—time to arise!”

“Sir, you should not be here!” she reproved him, alarmed. “Mrs. Astley is not yet up.”

“Then she is neglectful of her duty!” he retorted, grinning. “Come, get up!”

And he yanked the bedclothes off her, leaving her slim body exposed in its thin lawn chemise. Elizabeth gasped.

“Shall I tickle you?” he cried, wiggling his fingers and making as if he would come at her.

“You must leave, sir!” she told him, shrinking back farther in the bed.

“I will leave when I see you get up,” he replied. “Come on! Do not dally!”

Reluctantly, Elizabeth gathered the skirts of her chemise about her legs, for modesty, and slid off the bed on the opposite side. Then she peered out from behind the bed curtains, aware that his behavior was most improper, and conscious that she must put a stop to it.

“I am up, my lord. Please leave.”

Kat, entering at that moment, a vision of sleepiness in her voluminous nightgown and beribboned bonnet, took in the scene with a horrified glance.

“My lord! You should not be here!” she exclaimed.

“On the contrary, the Queen asked me to say good morrow to the Lady Elizabeth before I leave for court,” the Admiral said smoothly.

“But she is not dressed; it is not seemly!” Kat protested.

“Of course it is seemly. She is just a child, Mrs. Astley; I am her stepfather, and I was but jesting with her.” His level gaze dared her to disagree.

“Very well, sir,” Kat said doubtfully. “But in future, I should be grateful if you would wait until my Lady Elizabeth is dressed.”

The Admiral ignored her.

“Good day, Elizabeth,” he said, bowing. “I will look forward to seeing you this evening. Now I must go. My barge awaits, but the tide will not.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks were bright pink.

As soon as he had gone, she ran to her mirror and scrutinized her reflection in its polished silver surface. Fortunately the light in the bedchamber was dim, yet she could still make out the dark peak of a nipple under the filmy fabric of her chemise, and was that a hint of pubic hair? How much of her body had he espied? She was trembling, torn between embarrassment and excitement. He had called her a child, but he would probably have seen all too clearly that she was a child no longer.

As she was pulling on her tawny velvet nightgown, Kat came in.

“If he comes again, you must call me at once!” she ordered. “What would people say if it became known that the Admiral visits you in your bedchamber, and you in a state of undress?”

“He thinks me a child. It is just his idea of a romp,” Elizabeth said, only half believing it, and yet perversely hoping that he did not think of her as a child.

“A romp indeed!” Kat frowned. “There’s more than one kind of romp! You just call me if he comes again.”

That evening, Elizabeth saw to it that her nightgown was laid on a chair within reach of the bed, just in case the Admiral burst in on her the next morning. And Kat, torn between suspicion and anticipation, had promised to get up earlier and be in her chamber before dawn. Just in case.

But he did not come the next morning, or the one after that. Elizabeth began to relax, yet she was also inexplicably disappointed. The thought of the Admiral in her bedchamber, and she half clothed, was an arousing one, and she could not help feeling the stirring of desire. But this was wrong; she knew it was wrong. He was the Queen’s husband, and she must never forget that.

“Awake, my lady! Up! Up!”

“Sir, I beg of you!” Kat’s voice, pleading.

“Stop griping, woman. I am but come to see that my stepdaughter gets up in time for her lessons. The Queen knows I am here.”

“My lady is never late, sir, there is no need. I really must insist—”

The curtains were flung back. The handsome face loomed down at Elizabeth, who instinctively huddled beneath the covers. Dare she make a grab for the nightgown? The chair seemed a long way away.

“And how does my lady today?” Thomas inquired. “Don’t you think it’s time you made ready? It’s nigh on five o’clock.”

Elizabeth was just about to answer when he suddenly hauled the bedclothes off her, leaned forward, and slapped her on the buttocks. Her body responded treacherously, and neither her tormentor nor her nurse missed the shudder that coursed through her, or the fleeting gasp of ecstasy.

Kat moved quickly.

“Your robe, my lady,” she said, snatching up the nightgown and handing it to Elizabeth. “Now, my lord, if you would kindly leave us, so that my Lady Elizabeth can have some privacy.”

The Admiral looked as if he was about to protest, but evidently thought better of it. Without a word, he bowed and left the room.

“Tonight, we are locking the door!” Kat declared firmly. This was getting beyond a joke.

A key rattled in the lock.

“Whatever…,” Kat began, bewildered.

The door swung open and there was the Admiral, once again. This time, Elizabeth was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling up her cloth stockings, and her slender thighs were exposed to his gaze. Quickly, she pulled down her chemise.

“My lord!” Kat cried, determined to put a stop to these morning visits. “The door was locked!”

“Indeed it was,” he responded cheerfully. “But you see, Mrs. Astley, I have had keys made for all the rooms in the house, for my own use, and as I am master here, don’t you agree that none should gainsay me entry?”

“We are not gainsaying you, sir, just asking, yet again, that you delay your arrival until my Lady Elizabeth is dressed. Surely that is not too much to ask.”

“Calm yourself, Mrs. Astley. I have just come, as usual, to bid my stepdaughter good morrow. I mean no harm. Elizabeth knows that, don’t you, my lady?”

Elizabeth was praying he could not see through the thicker linen chemise that she had deemed it safer to wear in bed.

“Yes, my lord,” she said distractedly. “But I should prefer it if you came later.”

“Indeed?” he asked quizzically, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Naturally, I shall do what I know Your Grace to prefer.”

Elizabeth felt the heat rising to her face. This was no innocent game. He knew, she realized; he knew how she felt about him, and he was taking full advantage of it. But why? she asked herself. He loved the Queen, didn’t he?

Or had he loved her, Elizabeth, all along? Her heart leapt at the thought.

Later that day, Elizabeth received a note from the Admiral. It was brief but it made her tremble.

If you are still abed when I come to you in the mornings, I will bend you over a chair and give you the beating you deserve!
he had written. Then underneath, he had added,
Of course, I but jest, but a father ought from time to time to remind his daughter of her duty.

Kat had received a note too.

“Ooh, the very brazenness of the man!” she cried.

“What does it say?” Elizabeth asked, her heart still racing.

“He asks—oh, for shame, the naughty man—if my great buttocks, as he puts it, have grown any less or no!”

“That is so rude!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “What a strange thing to write.”

“I know why he wrote it,” Kat said. “The other day I was saying to the Queen that I should restrict my diet, as I have put on weight around my hips, and he overheard me and made some remark about liking women with big buttocks. Her Grace just laughed, but I told him off, saying he should not speak thus before ladies. This”—she waved the note—“is his revenge. Oh, the wicked knave!”

Elizabeth had crumpled her own note, which was now concealed in her sweating hand.

“Did you get a letter too?” Kat asked.

“No,” she lied. She could not face Kat’s reaction, or risk her showing such a note to the Queen.

It was at Seymour Place, the Admiral’s fine London town house, whither they had removed so that Chelsea Palace could be cleansed, that Kat began to be really alarmed by his behavior.

The morning visits had seemingly ceased, much to her relief.

“Thank goodness the Admiral has put a stop to that nonsense,” she said to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth said nothing.

Then suddenly, one morning, Thomas burst into her bedchamber, wearing just his nightgown, beneath which he was bare-legged in his slippers. Elizabeth, already up and dressed, raised startled eyes from her book, astonished to see him there. Immediately, her face reddened, for the nightgown was only loosely tied, and it was gaping slightly open. Hastily, she lowered her eyes.

Kat, seeing what Elizabeth had seen, swooped down on the Admiral like an avenging angel.

“For shame, sir! It is unseemly to come to a maiden’s chamber so improperly dressed!”

The Admiral wrapped his nightgown more tightly about himself. His face registered anger at Kat’s outburst.

“I must insist you leave at once, sir!” she went on, undeterred. “I have my Lady Elizabeth’s reputation to consider.”

Without a word, the Admiral left the room, slamming the door behind him. He did not appear in his nightgown again.

Yet he would not desist. Back at Chelsea, he came again and again, every morning.

“How much earlier will he come?” cried Elizabeth, who had taken to getting up well before dawn so as to be dressed and ready when he arrived. “I may as well stay up all night at this rate!”

By now, though, the maidens had talked and the other household servants were beginning to notice what was going on; Kat had already heard some bawdy gossip in the kitchens, and a couple of the Queen’s ladies had made very pointed remarks about Kat’s failure to put a stop to the Admiral’s antics. That hurt, because she had tried, many times, to do just that, even though it had been in vain. He was the master of the house and he just would not listen. Nothing deterred him.

Then came the morning when Elizabeth awoke to see him bending over her, grinning purposefully.

“A kiss, my fair maiden!” he demanded, puckering his lips in anticipation.

“No!” cried Kat, emerging from the inner door and advancing on the bed. “I beg you, sir, go away, for shame!”

“Go away?” he growled in mock rage. “Nay! I will claim a kiss from my stepdaughter, my good woman, and
then
I will go away.”

Kat stood her ground.

“Forgive me, sir, but I have my lady’s reputation to protect,” she insisted. “You should know that because of these morning visits, the servants are saying evil things about her—and about you too, my lord!”

The Admiral frowned.

“Are they? By God’s precious soul, I will teach them not to gossip. They shall hear from me! I mean no evil, so I will not leave off. On the contrary, I will report to my brother the Protector how I am slandered. And then there will be some merry repercussions, I’ll warrant.”

After he was gone, slamming the door in his anger, Kat stood there shaking. It had all gone too far, and she knew herself to have been in some way to blame. Yet she
had
tried to put a stop to the morning romps,
had
tried to rein in the Admiral’s boisterousness. Deep within herself, though, she was aware she had not tried hard enough; that she had obtained a vicarious pleasure from the interplay between him and Elizabeth. She had been thrilled to see the pleasure on Elizabeth’s face, to observe her flushed responses to my lord’s horseplay, and to feast her eyes on the handsome rogue as he plied his charms. And so she, Kat, had tacitly encouraged the Admiral, pretending to herself that her inferior rank rendered her powerless to resist his intrusions.

Well, she must delude herself no longer. It had to stop, or Elizabeth’s reputation would be lost, her very life endangered even. Her dear little lady was being dreadfully compromised, and the spreading gossip was changing something that was essentially harmless into something awful. People might even think that Elizabeth was encouraging the Admiral…

Well, there
was
something Kat could do: She could tell the Queen.

CHAPTER
13

1547

W
hy, Mrs. Astley, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Queen Katherine looked up from the letter she had been writing and smiled. She was well aware of the governess’s jealousy, but knew it to be unfounded. In fact, she felt sorry for the poor woman.

“Your Grace, I would speak with you on a matter of some delicacy,” Kat said.

Katherine laid down her pen and rose.

“Do sit down, please,” she said, taking a seat on the settle and indicating that Kat should join her. Kat sat down stiffly.

“Now,” said Katherine, looking concerned. “What is the matter?”

“Your Grace, forgive me, it’s my Lord Admiral,” Kat began hesitantly. “It’s all innocent, of course, and he means no harm, I know that, but he
will
come of a morning to my Lady Elizabeth’s chamber to bid her good morrow, and sometimes he comes when she is still abed and tickles or smacks her in play, as one would a child. But, madam, she is no longer a child, and the servants are talking. I have tried to tell him that it is unseemly, disporting himself thus with a great girl of fourteen, but he will not listen. Instead, he gets angry and threatens to complain to the Lord Protector that he is being slandered.”

Katherine quickly collected her wits. Kat’s words had plunged her into turmoil. Was it all as innocent as Kat claimed? Of course it was, it was merely Tom being his larger-than-life self. She must believe that, and not doubt his motives. Truly, she had no other cause to doubt him: He was as attentive and loving as ever, if not more so. A faint flush warmed her cheeks as she remembered last night’s lovemaking.

“Fret not, Mrs. Astley,” she said calmly. “I make no matter of this, and neither should you. I know my lord means well, even if he goes about things a little clumsily, and that he would do nothing to compromise my Lady Elizabeth’s reputation.”

“I hear what you say, madam, but however innocent, these visits cannot be allowed to continue,” Kat protested. “People are talking.”

“Well, I think I know how to put a stop to that,” Katherine smiled. “I myself will accompany the Admiral whenever he visits the Lady Elizabeth’s chamber of a morning. Will that set your mind at rest?”

“I am most grateful, madam,” Kat told her, irate with herself for responding to Katherine’s charm. Nevertheless, she felt relieved. As long as the Queen was present, there could be no suspicion of anything improper. Her little lady was safe.