The Painter's Apprentice (10 page)

They all moved on into the ballroom to chat with old friends and acquaintances.

‘I hope I won’t make too many mistakes with the dancing,’ whispered Cecily. ‘John and I read Playford’s
Plain and Easy Rules for the Dancing of Country Dances
from cover to cover and practised all the steps but we only had Emmanuel to play the tunes on his whistle and I’m not at
all confident that I shall remember them.’

‘It’s simple when you hear the music,’ said Anne.

‘Have you been to a great number of balls?’ asked Beth.

Anne smiled. ‘Never any as fine as this.’

Cecily gripped Beth’s arm. ‘There’s Harry! And he’s coming to see us!’

Harry de Montford, extremely modish in a light-blue coat embellished with a great deal of silver lace and fancy buttons, bowed
low to the ladies making Cecily giggle. He kissed her hand and she fluttered her eyelashes shamelessly at him until Susannah
gently pulled her away.

Then the dance music began and before long the young people’s feet had started to tap. It didn’t take much persuasion from
the caller to encourage them on to the floor and after walking them through the steps, the music speeded up and the dancing
began in earnest.

Kit bowed to Anne and offered her his arm. ‘Mistress Morley, may I hope that you will be my partner in this dance?’

‘I should be delighted,’ she said.

Harry came to ask Beth to partner him. His eyes glittered like jet and his direct gaze discomfited her. ‘Tonight you shine
brighter than the stars,’ he said, his gaze lazily roaming over her décolletage.

She took a step back. ‘Why, Mr de Montford, you surprise me. I didn’t imagine you had anything of the poet in you.’

‘You need to know me better, then. And that would be my very great pleasure, believe me,’ he added in a whisper. He laughed
and took her hand. ‘What fine company I’m keeping these days! A dinner fit for the King in the great hall at Merryfields a
few days ago and now an elegant ball in an imposing country seat. But I suppose that to you this is nothing out of the ordinary?’

‘The balls at Fanshawe Manor are renowned in the vicinity.’

‘Then, may I have the honour?’

She nodded and allowed herself to be led on to the dance floor.

An hour and a half later, the fiddlers finished ‘Cuckolds All in a Row’ with a flourish. The flautist wiped his forehead with
his handkerchief. The drummer picked up his drum, improvised from a Roundhead’s old helmet, which had occasioned great amusement
from the guests, and the musicians retired to enjoy a jug of ale.

Beth, out of breath from the last dance, surreptitiously eased the point of her busk, which was digging into her. She wondered
if there would be a bruise. But that was for tomorrow and tonight she was having a mighty fine time.

‘What fun!’ said Noah, who had been her final partner in the last dance. ‘And Mistress Morley appears to be enjoying herself,
doesn’t she?’

Beth glanced across the hall to see Anne, flushed and laughing with Harry de Montford. ‘I’m glad to see she has put aside
her sadness for tonight,’ she said. ‘I saw Kit whirling her around so fast in the last dance that she became giddy.’ They
watched Anne for a moment as she fluttered her fan teasingly at Harry. ‘Noah, I’ve been meaning to ask you what it was that
you started to say about Anne not wanting me to know who she is?’

‘Did I?’ Noah’s eyes were guileless. The music started again.

‘Please tell me about Anne Morley,’ she urged, as he took her hand and bowed.

‘Don’t talk to me now!’ said Noah, looking at his feet with an expression of comical dismay. ‘I’m having the devil’s own job
keeping time. I’m always half a beat behind everyone else.’

‘Bend your knees and try to glide. And don’t look so anxious. Now jump up on your toes and smile.’

‘Both at the same time?’

But before she could laugh at his worried expression she was on her way again and taking Kit’s hand.

It was well after midnight when Beth and Cecily followed Anne and Susannah into the coach.

‘Wasn’t it wonderful!’ breathed Cecily.

‘A delightful evening,’ smiled Anne. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself as much. I believe I danced with every man
in the county between the ages of sixteen and sixty!’

‘I can hardly bear for it to end,’ sighed Cecily. ‘Did you see me dancing with Harry de Montford? Didn’t we make a fine couple?
Mama, can
we
have a ball?’

Susannah laughed. ‘I’d like to see King Henry partnering Poor Joan in a gavotte.’

Cecily pouted. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. No one would want to come to a ball held in a lunatic asyl—’

Susannah held up her hand. ‘Shush, Cecily! You know we never say that.’

‘There’s no doubt that tomorrow will seem a great deal less exciting than today,’ said Beth. ‘I shall have to hand back my
borrowed finery and put on my paint-stained work clothes again. But tonight I felt like a princess, thanks to you.’ She reached
out for Anne’s hand.

‘You must keep the gown,’ said Anne. ‘It suits you far better than me and I have others.’

‘Oh, but I couldn’t …’

‘Of course you can! It’s little enough recompense for your kindness.’

Beth hesitated. ‘Then, thank you. I shall treasure it. I’m not sure when I will find another opportunity to wear such a fine
gown again but when I do, I will think of you.’

Cecily, her head nodding in time with the coach’s motion, gave a small snore.

Cecily was still fast asleep when Beth awoke the following morning. The first thing she saw was her beautiful dress carefully
draped over the clothes press, waiting to be stored away. She lay quietly for a while, reliving the previous night. The memory
of Harry de Montford’s breath on her cheek and the way his eyes had followed the curves of her body agitated her again. Squirming
under the sheet at the uncomfortable recollection, she heartily wished she’d been able to think of a witty set down to put
him in his place. Then she smiled as she recalled Noah’s comically anxious expression as he attempted to follow the dance
steps.

The house was quiet. Perhaps Anne would be sleeping late and it would be possible to steal a little time in the studio. Beth
slipped out of bed and dressed. Shoes in her hand, she padded along the gallery until she reached Anne’s bedchamber. Forsyth,
dozing on a pallet outside the door, hastily sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

‘Is Mistress Morley awake?’ whispered Beth.

‘Not for a good while, yet, I imagine. She said she would breakfast in bed this morning.’

Beth spent a satisfactory hour in the studio. She found notes and coloured sketches of some woodbine that she had worked on
earlier in the year and decided to develop them into a painting. There was a lack of variety in the garden during the winter
months and she hummed to herself as the sketches brought back memories of the abundance and glorious perfumes of the garden
in summer.

At last, the growling of her stomach forced her to leave the studio to seek out breakfast.

Noah was already sitting at the kitchen table. ‘Are we the only ones out of our beds?’ asked Beth.

‘Kit is snoring so loudly that I quite gave up on any idea of rising late,’ said Noah.

‘Noah, I’ve been trying to ask you about Anne but every time I raise the subject you slide off somewhere. Why is her identity
such a secret?’

He tore his chunk of bread into small pieces and began to arrange them in a pyramid. He sighed. ‘I should never have said
anything.’

‘But you did, so tell me!’ She reached out to imprison his hand.

He looked up at her and their eyes met.

Beth held his gaze; for a moment, time stood still. The everyday kitchen sounds of clattering pans and the chopping of vegetables
faded away and all she was aware of was the warmth of his hand and of his amber eyes fixed upon her.

He glanced over his shoulder at Sara busy riddling the fire, then said in hushed tones, ‘I suppose a
king
might have the right to select his daughter’s servants?’

‘A king?’ She froze.

‘Yes. King James.’

‘But if King James is her father …’ The enormity of what he was saying made her trail off in confusion.

‘Exactly!’ said Noah with a smile of insufferable smugness, ‘Anne
Morley is Her Royal Highness, Princess Anne of Denmark, second in line to the throne.’

Beth glared at her mother. ‘Well?’

‘Of course we knew,’ said Susannah, ‘but we were asked not to make it known, at the Princess’s request.’

‘But you could have told
me!
’ stormed Beth.

‘We could hardly go against a royal command, could we?’

‘How in the name of heaven am I going to face her now?’

Susannah raised Beth’s hand to her lips. ‘In exactly the same way as you did before. Anne is an ordinary woman born into an
extraordinary family and leading an extraordinary life. She feels pain and distress just as you or I do and on occasion the
pressures of life at Court are very great. Now, I saw Sara collect her breakfast tray a while ago and I expect she is waiting
for you.’

Beth pictured the sadness in Anne’s round face and blushed as she remembered how she had held her in her arms while she sobbed.
She wouldn’t have dreamed of taking such a liberty with a royal personage if she’d known her identity. But it was true what
Mama said: Anne, in many ways, was an ordinary woman just like herself.

Forsyth stood outside the little parlour.

‘Is Mistress Morley ready to receive me,’ Beth asked. Her heart thudded like a drum under her bodice.

‘Indeed she is, madam.’ Forsyth opened the door with a flourish and Beth took a deep breath and went in.

Anne, sitting by the window working on her embroidery, looked up with a smile. ‘How are you this morning?’

Beth opened her mouth to speak, found her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and sank to the floor in an unsteady curtsy,
completely at a loss for words in the presence of royalty.

Anne’s smile faded and she let the embroidery fall to her lap. ‘You know, don’t you? Who told you? Your mother?’

Beth shook her head.

‘Then I suppose it must have been Noah Leyton?’

Beth nodded, her gaze fixed on Anne’s blue embroidered slippers.

‘Please rise. We are not at Court and I don’t wish you to behave as if we were.’

‘He didn’t want to tell me, Your Highness,’ stammered Beth, ‘but I made him.’

‘This is exactly why I didn’t want you to know who I am. Look at you, shaking with fright! Am I a different person from yesterday?’
Anne’s eyes glistened with sudden tears. ‘I have been so free from restraint here at Merryfields, playing games and dancing
like a carefree young girl again. It has been very comfortable knowing that you were my friend and that you liked me for myself
and not because of my station in life.
Please
, don’t let matters change.’

Hesitating a little, Beth said, ‘I cannot pretend that who you are makes no difference.’

‘But here in this room it need not! Can you imagine how often I have to contend with fawning courtiers who try to befriend
me for their own ends? All I want is to be liked for myself. Is that too much to ask?’

‘No, of course not.’ Beth breathed out slowly. Anne
was
just the same as before; it was only her own new-found knowledge that was different. ‘You must know that I
do
like you for yourself. And besides,’ said Beth, ‘I am not, nor ever likely to be, a courtier and there is nothing I want
from you. Everything I desire in life is here for me at Merryfields.’

Anne gave her a wry smile. ‘If you have rarely left Merryfields you cannot know what else in life you may desire.’

‘I’ve been to Richmond village many times and recently I went to London.’

‘I see.’ Anne’s mouth twitched. ‘Then you are more worldly wise
than I realised. Well, let us be friends and while I am here we will forget everything outside these walls.’ She held out
her hand.

Slowly, Beth came forward and took it. ‘There is one thing,’ she said. ‘I made you peel all those potatoes.’

‘Ah, yes. The potatoes!’

‘Noah said that might be a beheading offence.’

The Princess gave a shout of laughter. ‘I shall have to speak to Mr Leyton about that.’

Bishop Compton arrived by boat that afternoon. He came straight away to the little parlour, striding in and bringing with
him the breezy scent of the outdoors clinging to his travelling cloak.

He greeted Anne with affection. ‘You have the suspicion of a bloom in your cheeks again,’ he said. ‘I do believe the country
air has refreshed you, just as I hoped it would.’

‘That and the kindness of the new friends I have made here.’ Anne smiled at Beth. ‘Though Beth has wormed my secret out of
Mr Leyton.’

Beth flushed as the Bishop raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Of course, I will be discreet.’

‘I would have expected nothing else.’ Bishop Compton turned back to Anne. ‘Since Miss Ambrose is privy to your secret, I can
tell you that the King is asking for you. He sent to Fulham Palace for me and I said you were staying with friends in the
country. He expects you to return to Whitehall.’

Anne turned to look out of the window. ‘I am surprised he troubles himself at all about me. I suspect he wishes to keep me
close at hand only so that he can continue in his attempts to persuade me into popish practices.’ She glanced at Beth. ‘I
do not wish to leave and will stay another day.’

‘The King fears your closeness to your sister and her husband. The Prince of Orange poses a very real threat to the King’s
ambitions. He
is not only the King’s nephew but is married to the King’s heir and is staunchly Protestant. Your father will not rest until
the country is become Roman Catholic again.’

‘But the people do not want it!’ Anne appealed to Beth. ‘Would your friends and neighbours be content if we had papists in
all the most important positions in the government? How would they feel if they were forced to follow Rome and were not free
to worship in our Church of England?’

Beth glanced at Bishop Compton and he nodded encouragingly. ‘I may live cloistered here at Merryfields,’ she ventured, ‘but
I do know that there is a great deal of distrust of the papists. Father says that it isn’t so much the fear that people wouldn’t
be allowed to worship in their own way but more that the King might follow the ways of his cousin in France,’ said Beth. ‘King
Louis ignores his government and the army is large and powerful.’

‘My father, God forgive him, has turned to Rome,’ said Anne. ‘His wife is Catholic and if the child she carries is a son,
he will become the heir and England will become Roman Catholic again.’ She stood up clutching at the front of her bodice,
her voice high and quick. ‘We
must
act to prevent such a tragedy!’

‘Anne!’ Bishop Compton spoke sharply. ‘Compose yourself.’ I have brought a letter for you from your husband.’ He reached inside
his coat and withdrew a folded paper sealed with red wax.

‘With your permission, I shall leave you for a while,’ said Beth. ‘Perhaps you will send Forsyth should you wish me to attend
you?’

Anne simply nodded as she eagerly scanned her husband’s letter.

Bishop Compton turned his warm smile upon Beth. ‘I wish to speak to your father. Will you accompany me, Miss Ambrose?’

William glanced up when Beth knocked on the door. ‘Good morning, Your Grace. How do you find Mistress Morley?’

‘Much improved. She has found a sympathetic friend in your daughter, I believe. I have been hearing about the ball you attended
and I do believe the Princess has had as much enjoyment from that
simple country affair as any glittering occasion at Court has ever brought her.’

‘Oh, I assure you,’ said William with a gleam of amusement in his eye, ‘the ball at Fanshawe Manor was no simple affair. Dear
me, no! It was the very height of sophistication in these parts and will be talked about for years.’

The Bishop laughed and clapped William on the shoulder. ‘The King is asking for his daughter. She is reluctant to leave your
care and I wondered if I might stay here tonight before we return to Whitehall tomorrow?

‘Of course,’ said William.

‘I shall be sorry to see her leave,’ said Beth.

‘Miss Ambrose, there is something I wanted to ask you,’ the Bishop went on. ‘I have seen your botanical paintings and it is
plain that you have a passion for flowers. In the spring, I wondered if you would like to visit my gardens at Fulham Palace?
I have a great quantity of unusual specimens, which I believe may interest you.’