The Lady Elizabeth (33 page)

“Then you have done nothing worthy of reproach,” Kat said, relieved.

Oh, but I have, Elizabeth thought. I have wanted him. I have sinned with him in my thoughts…and might do so in very deed, given the chance. She knew in her heart that her much-vaunted resolve to remain a virgin might easily crumble in the face of his seductive charm.

“Well, you do amaze me!” commented Master Parry. “I would never have believed it of the Admiral.”

“He has been after my Lady Elizabeth for a long time,” Kat revealed. “He even asked for her hand after King Henry died. The council put a stop to that, so he married the Queen instead.”

“And you think the Queen knows of his interest in you, my lady?” Parry asked Elizabeth.

“I fear so,” she said, shaking her head. “I would it were otherwise. But what can I do?”

“Nothing, except be watchful of your conduct, and give the Admiral no encouragement whatsoever,” Kat warned her, worried in case the situation was escalating beyond her control; the Admiral might be an attractive man—there was no denying that—but her responsibility was to protect the Lady Elizabeth from harm, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that she herself was in part to blame for what was happening because of her earlier laxness.

“I would do nothing to hurt the Queen, or injure myself,” Elizabeth assured her.

The Admiral had arisen at first light and gone to attend to a bitch of his that had whelped the previous day. He had promised Elizabeth one of the puppies, and by God, he would see she got the best one. Of course, Katherine could have one too—they promised to be a fine litter.

There was a chill in the air, so presently he returned to the privy chamber to don a warmer doublet. He thought he would look in on his wife—she had not been well of late. Some vague malady, of the kind to which women seemed all too susceptible—he hadn’t troubled to inquire too closely. Whatever it was, rest and hearty fare would cure it, of that he was sure.

But as he entered their bedchamber, he heard the sound of choking. Alarmed, he found Katherine, still in her night robe, retching into a basin.

“My love!” he cried. “I had no idea…” He held her heaving shoulders and stroked back the damp tendrils of hair from her forehead.

When the spasms had passed, Katherine wiped her mouth on a towel and sank down on the bed. Tom sat beside her, his face a picture of concern.

“It is nothing,” she said, smiling weakly. “I am all right.”

“We must summon a physician,” he insisted.

“No, Tom, I do not need a physician. You see, I have been sick every morning for a week now, and my courses have stopped. You
must
know what that betokens. I am going to have a child.”

“Oh, my love!” Tom exclaimed, and hugged her. “That is the most marvelous news. A child—a son and heir, hopefully! I cannot believe it!”

“I assure you I can!” Katherine grimaced. “But I am overjoyed. I never thought, at my age, to be so blessed. I have long prayed to be a mother, and now the good Lord has seen fit to answer my prayers.”

“And mine too,” Tom added. “I have prayed for a son.”

“It might be a girl,” Katherine reminded him.

“Whatever it is, I shall be the proudest father alive! So long as you are safely delivered, Kate, and the babe is healthy. We must take good care of you. You must rest and eat well, and not worry about anything.”

“I see I shall not need a midwife, with you to look after me, my lord!” she laughed. Then her smile faded. “If I were honest, I am a little fearful. I am thirty-six, and that is old to be having my first baby.”

“Never fear, my darling, we will engage the best midwives and doctors to be found,” Tom promised. “I will make the announcement immediately, and send letters to all our friends.”

“Whatever you wish.” Katherine smiled, quelling her fears. “But there is one thing else—something that troubles me.”

“What is it, my love?” Tom was eager to reassure her.

She swallowed.

“All
is
well between us, isn’t it, Tom? I have feared of late that we might be growing apart.”

“Nonsense!” he declared. “I sense no distancing. It is but the fancy of a breeding woman, I’ll warrant.”

“Of course,” she agreed, relieved beyond measure. She had imagined it. There was nothing wrong. Her fears were groundless. No philandering husband could react as lovingly as Tom just had to the news that they were to become parents.

“You rest here,” he told her. “I will go and make the announcement.” Then he added gaily, “What will we call him?”

“Thomas, of course!” Katherine smiled mischievously. “Or Katherine!”

The sickness continued unabated for the next month, and so the Queen lay abed late every morning, recovering from its onslaughts.

Thus the Admiral was free to wreak mischief. Careless of the consequences, for he was consumed with lust and longing, and confident of his charm and his powers of persuasion, he waxed now so hot in the pursuit of his nubile stepdaughter that, always a man to court risks, he believed he would have what he wanted and get away with it.

And so it was that, one early-spring day, just after dawn, Elizabeth was sliding out of bed when she heard his key in her lock. Kat had not yet appeared, and Thomas’s face when he saw that she was alone was jubilant.

“My lord,” she began to protest, pulling on her velvet nightgown.

“Shhh!” he hushed, putting a finger to his lips. “I would speak with you privately.”

Elizabeth was both appalled and excited.

“What could you have to say to me that cannot wait?” she challenged, fearing that it was something he had no right to say…

In a moment, he had crossed the floor and come to stand in front of her, too close for comfort.

“Elizabeth,” he murmured, “I have been longing to speak to you. I meant what I said all those weeks ago. I love you.” He put his arms around her, enclosing her tightly, and began to whisper into her hair. “I want you…wanting you is torturing me.”

“Sir!” she protested weakly, knowing that she should push him away but finding that his nearness was too wonderful to resist. “I beg of you…”

She could feel her body, her treacherous body, responding. A tremor ran through her. Feeling it, Thomas bent her head back and kissed her gently on her mouth. The touch of his lips was sensual, irresistible…

“Ah, so you want it too,” he chuckled. Then he kissed her harder, pushing his tongue against her teeth and forcing them apart. Elizabeth felt a deep warmth flooding through her, a beautiful lassitude that left her incapable of resistance. The Admiral’s hands were trembling down her back, playing at her waist, and moving daringly over her hips. His touch through the velvet robe and the thin lawn of her chemise was both shocking and glorious. The small voice of wisdom cried out that she should put a stop to this now, but it was drowned out by the swell of great waves of feelings. She responded to the kiss, and let the Admiral’s tongue move insistently in her mouth.

“Are you up, my lady?” It was Kat’s voice from the inner chamber, calling Elizabeth to her senses. Abruptly, the Admiral let her go and stood panting softly, regarding her admiringly.

“I must leave,” he mouthed, “but I will be back, never fear.”

No sooner had he silently closed the door than Kat came bustling into the chamber with Elizabeth’s clothes. Elizabeth hoped her governess had not noticed her flushed face and dazed expression, and quickly turned her back on Kat, busying herself at the washbasin, slapping a cold damp cloth on her hot cheeks.

It was all beginning again, she thought. She had had such good intentions, but she had not bargained for the effect the Admiral was having on her senses and her emotions. She honestly did not know how she would summon the strength to resist him.

“Good morrow, my Lady Elizabeth, Mrs. Astley!”

Kat stared in horror as the Admiral burst into Elizabeth’s bedchamber the next morning, just as she had finished dressing.

“Whatever is the matter, Mrs. Astley? You look as if a ghost had just walked over your grave,” Thomas teased her.

“My lord, this is most improper!” the governess insisted. “My lady could still have been abed.”

“Mrs. Astley, we have thrashed out these arguments before,” the Admiral said patiently, noticing that Elizabeth was looking at him with undisguised appreciation.

“Yes, sir, and then you ceased to come here and outrage my lady’s modesty with these visits. I cannot understand why you are back here again. It’s indecent!”

“Pray tell me what is wrong with a stepfather come to bid his stepdaughter good morrow?” the Admiral asked loftily.

“With respect, sir, does the Queen know you are here?” Kat asked boldly.

“Of course she does,” he said, but the furtive look in his eyes gave the lie to it.

“Well, I will speak to her,” Kat replied. The Admiral groaned inwardly.

“Nay, do not trouble her, for she is unwell,” he urged.

“I will see her this afternoon. She is always better in the afternoons,” Kat said defiantly. “If she is content that you come here in the mornings, then I am too. But I must insist that I be present.”

The Admiral gave her a filthy look and turned on his heel, leaving Elizabeth aching with loss.

“Yes, I did know,” said Katherine sharply. She had been enjoying a peaceful nap in the parlor, and was not pleased to see Kat standing there before her, asking if she was aware that the Admiral had taken once more to visiting the Lady Elizabeth of a morning.

But she had
not
known anything about it, and the news both alarmed and grieved her, although she was not going to reveal that to the governess.

“Then am I to understand that these visits have Your Grace’s approval?” Kat persisted.

“They do, Mrs. Astley,” answered Katherine irritably. “Although I think it would be wise, for the sake of the proprieties, if you yourself were present. My lord himself would wish that.”

“Very well, madam,” Kat said. “I will make sure I am always there.”

Elizabeth had wandered down to the banks of the Thames, where the water lapped gently at the low stone wall by the landing stage. The Admiral’s barge was tied up at the jetty; he had not long returned from London. The days were really drawing out now, she noticed, watching the sun setting in a pink-and-gold sky. She must return to the palace for supper shortly, but not yet. She was savoring these stolen moments of solitude. The atmosphere in the house was tense. There was a coolness between the Admiral and the Queen, who was still suffering the discomforts of early pregnancy; Katherine was, if anything, chillier in her manner toward Elizabeth; Kat was being as vigilant as a mother hawk; and Elizabeth was all too aware of the Admiral’s smoldering eyes upon her, and of the excitement that welled up in her whenever he came to bid her good morning.

Kat would probably be looking for her now: She seemed afraid to let Elizabeth out of her sight these days. But Elizabeth did not think that Kat would walk as far as this; Kat had grown plumper of late, and often got out of puff. And besides, the shoreline was concealed by a high privet hedge; she could be private here for a short while.

And it was there on the riverbank that the Admiral found her, and again took her in his arms, she melting against him as if it were the most right and natural thing in the world. She could not help herself.

“Elizabeth!” he breathed, between kisses. “I am in torment!”

“This is wrong,” she murmured brokenly, but the response of her body belied her words.

“True love can never be wrong,” he said softly.

“But the Queen…,” she protested feebly.

“The Queen will never know,” he vowed. “I would not hurt her, especially at this time.”

His allusion to Katherine’s condition drove a spike of jealousy into Elizabeth’s breast. In her mind, she saw him making love to his wife, impregnating her…The image made her catch her breath. How she, Elizabeth, craved to share that forbidden joy with him. If only she had accepted his proposal of marriage in the first place, she would not be in this sorry situation today. It was not fair.

The Admiral was kissing her neck, his hands holding her waist in a vise.

“I must see you alone,” he muttered thickly.

“It cannot be,” Elizabeth heard herself answering. But it
must
be, her heart cried. She could bear her need for him no longer.

“Sunday,” he said low. “I rarely go to the chapel for morning service, so the Queen will not mark my absence. Plead illness—say your courses have come and your belly aches. Then none will suspect us. And get rid of that dragon that guards you. Then I will come to you, and we will not be disturbed.”

Elizabeth felt a fearful thrill at his words. Surely she was not going to agree to this? She knew it was wrong. But her body was afire with longing and she could not help herself.

“Say I may come!” he demanded, gripping her tighter, his dark eyes boring into her.

“You may come,” she whispered, and breaking away from him, she began running back toward the palace, her long hair flying behind her in a coppery stream.

She would not do it. She would, she could not deny herself. No, she could not. She was in turmoil, her tender conscience warring with her burning desire. Her inborn good sense seemed to have flown out of the window: She could no longer reason with herself. She knew in her heart that she would have the thing she wanted.

“I think I will lie here awhile today,” Elizabeth said from the depths of her bed. “I do not feel well.”

“What’s the matter?” Kat inquired, poking her head between the curtains.

“I have a vile headache,” Elizabeth said. She had thought better of pleading her courses: Kat would soon find her out, for there would be no bloody clouts to dispose of.

Kat felt her forehead.

“At least you have no fever.”

“No, it’s just a megrim.” Elizabeth grimaced, hoping she looked convincing.

“Do you want me to sit with you?” the governess asked.

“No, I just want to sleep. Don’t miss the service on my account,” Elizabeth told her.