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Authors: Eve Edwards

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Nell snorted as the crook-backed gentleman pressed a small leather purse into the lady’s hand. It was highly unlikely to have come from the monarch. She’d heard from one of the Queen’s chambermaids that the sovereign was often pestered with such gifts from her subjects and rarely had time to more than glance at any of them unless the person was someone of note. The girl’s work was probably destined to start fires, not grace a study.

Cecil dropped his voice, speaking to the lady now in urgent tones. ‘Lady Eleanor, there’s twenty pounds in the purse, enough to hire a horse for yourself and for the baggage. You should get as far as Maidenhead tonight with no trouble. There’s a decent inn there called the Black Boy. Mention my name and the landlord will look after you.’

The lady nodded, her fingers curling around the purse.

Thank him, you want-wit
, thought Nell in exasperation. The man clearly liked the lady but she was doing nothing to capitalize on his interest.

‘You’ll be all right?’ he asked, studying her face.

The lady gave him a frail smile. ‘Thank you, sir, yes. Strange, only last night I begged my father to take me away from court; now my prayers are answered, but not in a way I expected. We will manage somehow – we always do.’

Nell had seen enough to earn her sixpence. She hurried up the stairs to her mistress’s chamber, knowing Lady Jane would still be in bed.

‘My lady, you’ll never guess what’s going on in the courtyard,’ Nell began at a gallop, throwing back the drapes.

Lady Jane yawned and rubbed her eyes lazily. ‘It better be worth waking me to hear.’

Nell turned her back to lay out the clean linen, rolling her eyes so her mistress could not see. ‘I think you will judge it so.’ She quickly recounted what passed below.

Lady Jane surprised her by throwing back the covers and leaping out of the bed. ‘Quick, my gown.’

Nell ran forward with the garment and held it out for her mistress. ‘But, my lady, there’s really not much to see; just some old fool getting his comeuppance.’

Lady Jane held still as Nell deftly fastened the bodice. ‘I’ve no time for sleeves. Bring me my long cloak. That will have to do.’

Not even bothering with stockings, her mistress stuffed her feet into her leather shoes and ran out, leaving Nell gaping at her uncharacteristic behaviour. She went to the window to see what caused her mistress to be so disturbed. Lady Jane rushed into the yard, oblivious to the fact she was half dressed, hair tumbling down her back, with an audience of stable boys and the two noblemen. She put her arm around the girl and began talking earnestly to her. The girl nodded wearily then, giving into weakness, rested her head briefly on Lady Jane’s shoulder. Odd. Nell had never considered anyone would see her mistress as a tower of strength in their troubles.

‘What ho, Nell!’ declared Sir Henry, slapping her bottom in a friendly fashion. ‘What’ve you done with my sister?’

Nell bobbed a curtsy then grinned up at him. ‘You must see this, sir.’ She gestured to the scene below. ‘My lady has rushed to the side of the mad alchemist’s daughter.’

Rather than be amused at his sister’s impetuosity, Henry frowned. ‘What’s this? Why are they out there?’

‘The Queen’s dismissed the scholar, sir,’ Nell said soberly, understanding that she stood to gain more from feigning concern. ‘The poor girl has to leave with him, of course.’

Three more ladies joined the little party in the yard: a plain ginger-headed one and two others of Mountjoy’s household. They joined in with tears and lamentations like a chorus. It really was almost as good as going to the play.

‘No, they can’t do this!’ Henry strode out of the room.

Nell settled down on the window seat to watch; she found Henry in one of his rages very appealing, not least because he often came to find her afterwards to work off his temper. Dabbing her neck with some of her mistress’s rose water, she followed the progress of her big bear as he stormed out into the yard. He was arguing with Blount now, near to blows as Sir Charles flaunted the Queen’s decree in his face. But what most intrigued Nell was the girl’s reaction; she shrank away from Henry, even picked up her bundle, eager to hasten their departure.

Interesting, my lady. You are no willing conquest then
, thought Nell.

Three horses were led into the yard. On Blount’s order, the serving men loaded them with the baggage. Master Cecil had drawn Henry to one side, playing the peacemaker. Henry would have to be witless to stand against an order from the Queen – and he was no fool, even if he raged that his latest titbit was to be taken from him. He instead made himself
known to the alchemist, commiserating with the man.

There was barely room for a rider in the saddle once all was stowed, but the old man appeared content to relinquish his seat if it meant he did not have to leave any of his books behind. Nell watched the girl mount, wave farewell to her friends, and follow her father as he led two of the horses in a string through the gate. Nell almost applauded the end of the scene – drama and passion, very finely acted.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she quickly made herself busy.

‘Bound for Maidenhead, you say, Janie?’ asked Henry, following his sister into the room. ‘That’s strange – the father rambled on about Oxford, saying he’d go where his genius would be appreciated.’

‘I wouldn’t pay heed to him, Henry. Lady Eleanor is of a more practical bent. She confided that they had been given some funds and she hoped to find a cheap lodging not too far away. It’s nearly forty miles to Oxford; the hire of the horses alone would put a dent in their purse.’

He kissed his sister’s hand. ‘The Lord bless the sensible Ellie.’

Jane tugged her fingers free. ‘For God’s sake, Henry, leave the girl alone.’

He grinned. ‘Not likely, lass; she’ll need a friend now.’ He turned to Nell. ‘Are those my shirts, wench?’

‘Aye, my lord.’

‘Bring them to my chamber. I have some others for you to mend.’

Jane turned to the window. ‘Since when did my maid do your mending, Henry?’

‘Since I asked her to, sister. Do you have a problem with that?’

With a sigh, Jane shook her head. Alert to any shift of power in her favour, Nell sensed her mistress had ceded ground to her brother.

‘Come away, Nell,’ beckoned Henry, already unbuttoning his doublet.

Bobbing a pert curtsy to her mistress, Nell picked up the shirts and followed him.

9

‘So, Father, what are we going to do now?’ Ellie had saved her question until they were clear of the winding streets of Windsor. They were following the road along the river, heading upstream. The way was quite beautiful if she had heart to appreciate it: elegant willows dipping fresh green branches in the stream, leaves not yet fully emerged; daffodils and primroses gilded the hedgerows; bluebells brought a touch of sky to shady woodlands. Swans glided undisturbed, beaks dipping into the water with elegant poise. It was a scene she’d like to remember on cold winter days, but today it failed to thaw the ice that had formed in her chest at the thought of yet another uprooting.

‘Hmm, what’s that?’ her father replied.

‘Where are we going to go? We can lodge tonight at Maidenhead, but I was wondering, sir, if you’d thought beyond that?’

She
had. Her aim was to get her father to suggest they rent a small cottage for the next few weeks until she could think of a better plan. The Queen’s purse should see to the basics as long as her father did not take it for his expenses. But she knew better than to propose the idea – she had to lead him to believe it was his own choice.

‘I’m thinking Oxford, Ellie. I’m tired of these noblemen
who do not understand the benefit I’m trying to bring mankind.’

‘I see, sir.’ She let that remain in the air while they passed a wagon on its way to the market in Windsor, the farmer’s wife smiling in anticipation of a good price for her goods now that the court had arrived.

‘You’ll like Oxford, Ellie. The scholars are pleasant fellows; they’ll appreciate your learning.’

‘I’m sure I would like it, sir.’ She took a breath. Time to make her pitch. ‘But I was thinking that maybe you would be better received if you wrote up your latest experiments and prepared a treatise for circulation. I’ve heard that one fault of scholars is to be jealous of their knowledge. What would stop them claiming your advances as theirs unless you have proof in writing that you thought of them first?’

Sir Arthur frowned and hitched his robe up out of the dust where it had been dragging for the last mile. ‘You may be right, Ellie. I hadn’t considered that.’

‘I was thinking that we might pause a while in Maidenhead and find ourselves lodgings, the better to prepare for our arrival in Oxford when you are ready to show the scholars the fruits of your researches.’

Ellie hated manipulating her father, but it was the only power she had left. They were on a downward path and this was the only way she could think of halting the slide for a time. A reprieve was better than nothing.

‘I’m not sure, Ellie.’

‘I could find a cottage for us – you wouldn’t have to interrupt your work to deal with the arrangements. Master Cecil did say that your profession was suited to a more retired situation.’

Sir Arthur looked up at his daughter on the back of her hired nag. It struck him that she should be seated on a white palfrey, dressed in the finest clothes; instead she was wearing a stained gown and her young face was pinched and tired.

‘What am I doing to you, Ellie, eh?’ he said, half to himself.

The moment of her father’s self-doubt knocked Ellie back as nothing else could. She bit her lip and turned her eyes away.

‘You’d like a cottage, would you?’

She nodded.

He placed a hand on her knee. ‘We can’t stay there forever, you understand? Just until I’ve written my treatise.’

‘I know, sir.’

He gave her his gentlest smile. ‘You’ll be rewarded for your faithfulness, my dear, when all this is over. We struggle through the valley of shadow now, but then we will be seated in places of honour.’

Ellie did not try to destroy the dream that sustained him. What would be the point? ‘Then I may look for lodgings for us?’

‘Yes, my dear. How much money was in the purse?’

Ellie swallowed. He was going to take it from her – spend their one resource on more books or alchemical equipment. ‘Twenty pounds, sir.’

‘Perhaps you should buy yourself material for a new gown with it. We can’t have the Oxford scholars looking down their noses at you, can we?’

Astonished, Ellie could only nod, a burst of love for her infuriating father taking her voice. She had to remind herself of these times when he was so kind to her, to counter the bitterness of his obsession when it was at its worst.

‘And I suppose we must think about finding you a husband,’
he continued. ‘A nice young man who will let you continue with your education. Oxford will be a good place for you as well as me, I’m convinced of that.’

‘I thought none of the scholars were allowed to marry,’ she said carefully.

‘I wasn’t thinking of them, but of the rich young men whom they teach. A young noble with an interest in alchemy would be perfect.’

For whom? Ellie realized that her father’s thoughts, though they had started with her, had ended as usual with the cursed gold. Of one thing she was absolutely convinced, she would rather die an old maid than marry any man who went near the alchemist’s laboratory.

‘Yes, yes, Oxford will do us both well,’ Sir Arthur continued to mutter, his thoughts now revolving round how he could turn his one remaining asset to his profit.

Will spent the joust in a foul mood. His hangover grew worse with every jolt, but he was too stubborn to retire. Perhaps this gave him an edge because he was doing uncommonly well for a novice, winning his bouts against much more experienced men, taking savage pleasure when one of Ralegh’s companions finished unhorsed, lying on his back like an upturned beetle.

He made sure he acknowledged the Lady Jane as he cantered past her seat in the stands, her sleeve attached prominently to his helmet as he tried to wipe away the memory of the alchemist’s colours he had borne the day before. He told himself that the lady was far lovelier than his first choice – her skin a fashionable white, her hair like ripe wheat, her gown magnificent and tasteful. No grass-stained hem and wilting ruff for her. Everything
was new and pressed to perfection. All he had to do now was like her enough to propose, but something about her subtly repelled him. He feared it was the fact that she did not think much of him. Though he didn’t ask for love in his marriage, he did want to be able to bear the company of his wife and for her to welcome his.

Despite himself, his eyes sought out Lady Eleanor, but he soon saw that she was not sitting among her friends. Neither was she with Sir Henry who had bowed out of the day’s sport due to his injury. He was propped sullenly against the wooden wall at the far end of the stands. Now Will had failed to find her easily, he decided her absence another thing against her as it meant he could not get rid of his duty to apologize quickly and with the least embarrassment to himself. He’d imagined doing it from the back of his horse, presenting her with her embroidery, which he had wrapped in silk as a way of showing he regretted the dishonour with which he had treated it the night before. He then could have ridden quickly away knowing he had discharged his duty.

Guiding Barbary back to his brothers, Will dismounted. Tobias and his new man, Diego, took the reins to walk the stallion until he cooled.

‘Well ridden, Will!’ exclaimed James, helping him off with his helmet and removing some of the armour so he could rest. ‘I can’t believe it, but you are in the final pair.’

‘Against whom?’ Will splashed water over his head, welcoming the cold trickle down his neck.

‘Ralegh or Blount. They’re about to run against each other now.’

Will found he couldn’t bring himself to care about the outcome. He lay flat on his back, staring up at the sky.

‘Not that the competition was that strong with Perceval out of the running,’ continued James.

BOOK: The Other Countess
11.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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