By Royal Command (6 page)
‘I don’t think you’ll be called upon to appear,’ I said, hurrying through to the back door to find twigs to start the fire. ‘Lady Emmeline said it’s a private visit.’
‘Thank the Lord for that. Most likely they’ll only be here for a moment or two, then,’ Mistress Midge said. ‘She’s come to consult Dr Dee on the best day for receiving one or other of her suitors, no doubt. Or maybe she’s had a proposal of marriage and wants to know the most auspicious day for a wedding!’
‘Surely not!’ I gasped.
‘Though if she takes my advice she’ll stay single, or else find herself ruled by a man. What use is marriage to a woman as powerful as she?’
‘She says she’s married to England,’ Beth said. ‘Though I don’t know how anyone could be married to a country.’
I found the stuffs I needed and when I hurried back into the dining room, Dr Dee and Lady Emmeline had already gone to the front door to await the arrival of the queen.
‘Quickly, girl, quickly!’ Mr Kelly said. ‘Or she’ll be here and gone before you’ve hardly singed the wood.’
I bent over the fire, struggling with the tinderbox. I very much wished to see Her Grace, but was embarrassed about what she might say to me, for I hadn’t set eyes on her since I’d snatched a flask of poison from her hand. It had been after that that she’d said she’d make provision for me to attend the Court and serve her further.
I was still crouched over the grate, swearing under my breath at the damp and stubborn wood, when I heard the swish of silken skirts behind me and Mr Kelly say in a voice quivering with emotion, ‘Your Grace!’
I stayed on my knees, crouching low. All I could see were the soft leather riding boots of the queen: a bright daffydill yellow, with pointed toes and jewelled buckles.
‘This is my esteemed and trusted scryer, Mr Kelly,’ said Dr Dee.
‘We trust your experiments are going well, gentlemen?’ said the queen.
‘Your Majesty . . . we are in the middle of an important one at the moment,’ said my employer.
‘For that certain stone?’ the queen asked, and both gentlemen murmured yes, Dr Dee adding devoutly that he hoped the Good Lord would help them in their endeavours.
I continued struggling to cause a spark that might ignite the fire. ‘I’ll come straight to the point,’ I heard the queen say. ‘Emmeline, will you give the doctor the object?’
‘Gladly!’ said Lady Emmeline, a shudder of distaste in her voice, and she let loose a roll of cloth she had under her arm and allowed a small object to fall to the floor. It was within my line of vision, so I saw a crude doll, about six inches tall, dressed in a rich scrap of fabric and undoubtedly supposed to represent the queen, for it had red wool hair over its inked-on features and, most telling of all, a simple paper crown, painted gold, on its head. Disturbingly, however, this poppet queen was a horrid sight, for it had pigs’ bristles stuck into its eyes.
Gazing at it, Mr Kelly tutted in dismay and Dr Dee gave a growl of distaste.
By now, I’d caused a spark from the box to light a scrap of paper and when I was certain it wouldn’t go out, I rose to my feet and, my eyes still lowered, began to back out of the room to fetch some hot coals.
‘One of our maids found this outside the window of our chamber,’ the queen was saying as I left the room. ‘’Twas placed by a follower of the Scots queen, we wager.’
‘Perhaps so, Madam,’ said Dr Dee, still staring at the object on the floor.
I was at the doorway by this time but had to leave the door open, of course, so that I could come back quickly with the hot coals.
‘We made light of the tawdry thing, but would ask you if such an object has any power,’ I heard the queen ask.
‘None whatsoever, Your Grace,’ Dr Dee replied. ‘It is merely a toy made by some vulgar and ignorant quack. The only power it has is the capacity to cause disquiet in the mind of whoever receives it.’
‘Then we are hearty glad to hear it,’ the queen replied stoutly, ‘and it will not now cause us any unease.’
I heard this, then ran down the corridor towards the library, where I took up a shovel full of hot coals from the grate and carefully carried these into the dining room. As I entered, the queen was turned away from me and speaking to Mr Kelly, therefore enabling me to gaze at her and take in every aspect of her appearance. I saw that her outermost garment was a short black velvet cape, lined in fur, this being thrown back over one shoulder to reveal a wool riding suit in bright turquoise. On her head she wore a canary-yellow felt hat which bore several jaunty ostrich feathers, and all most wonderful and elegant.
‘Will you be seated, Your Grace?’ Dr Dee asked, gesturing towards one of the new, carved settles.
‘We will not stay longer, thank you kindly,’ said the queen. She took a step to the door. ‘Oh, but, good Dr Dee, one more thing – we know that you are oft consulted on the meaning of dreams . . .’
I saw Dr Dee bow in acknowledgement of this.
‘And though we are of the opinion that dreams are, in fact, like thoughts and are entirely of a random nature, there is one which we have had several times lately and which we would like you to interpret.’
‘At your service, Your Grace . . .’
‘It involves fish.’
Still bent over the fire rearranging coals, I wanted to giggle, but of course did not.
‘To dream of a shoal of fish is a sure sign of wealth to come,’ said Dr Dee with great assurance.
‘Especially if they are silver or gold,’ put in Mr Kelly quickly.
The queen laughed. ‘Then that’s good! The next time we dream of them we will try to ascertain the colour.’ I was aware of her skirts swishing around on the polished wood floor, then knew that she was looking at me.
‘Girl, what say you to dreams?’ she suddenly asked, a merry inflection to her voice.
I struggled to get off my knees quickly, then immediately bent down into a low curtsey. ‘What . . . what say I?’ I stuttered, for it had been a dream which had led me to the queen before – a dream that she was about to take poison. ‘I believe dreams
can
foretell the future, Your Grace,’ I said, ‘but if I dreamed of fish ‘twould merely mean that the day is Friday and I am going to eat boiled mackerel.’ Both she and Lady Emmeline smiled at this. I rose from the curtsey but remained with my head lowered, wondering if Her Grace remembered me from my previous visit to the palace. Was that why she’d addressed me? Or would the sheer number of people she met each and every day, the vast number of faces she saw, mean that she merely thought she was speaking to Dr Dee’s nursemaid, a simple girl she’d never met in her life before.
‘I often dream that I’m swimming in the Thames,’ said Lady Emmeline. ‘Though I would never dream of doing such a thing in my life.’ She realised what she’d said and gave a trill of laughter.
‘To dream of being immersed in water is an auspicious dream,’ said Dr Dee ponderously, ‘as long as the water is calm and still. If it is turbulent, then the dream is not so favourable.’
‘I can scarce remember how the water was,’ said Lady Emmeline, ‘but what say you?’ she asked, gesturing for me to speak.
‘The only time I have had a dream of swimming,’ I said, ‘I woke and found that my sister’s little child had wet the bed where I was lying.’
As I spoke I realised – just a little too late – that it was not the thing to be speaking to a queen about, but she and her lady laughed and the gentlemen had no alternative but to give tight smiles. Bolder now, I added, ‘But I’ve always been a great dreamer, so much so that my mother used to make me a cordial of dried cowslip flowers to take away my night-frights.’
The queen smiled at me, her face pale with ceruse, her lips rouged red. She smoothed her gloves, which were of the finest kid leather, and I saw that she had very beautiful hands, long, slim and elegant. ‘You speak quaintly, little girl, and would be welcome at Court to amuse us sometime.’
I felt myself blush with pleasure, but did not dare to look at the faces of Dr Dee and Mr Kelly.
Her Grace turned. ‘You and Mr Kelly will come to Court over the Twelve Days to join an evening of entertainment, will you not?’ she asked Dr Dee.
‘Indeed, Madam,’ he replied unctuously, bending so far into a bow that his hair brushed the floor.
‘Then perhaps you will bring this little missy with you.’
Dr Dee looked from me to the queen with some shock, while Mr Kelly’s expression was one of pure incredulity. ‘Of course,’ Dr Dee replied – for what else could he say to the Queen of England?
I curtseyed again. Tomas had said that Her Grace would make provision for me to attend Court occasionally and carry out certain tasks, and it seemed that I would start the first of these soon. This, happily, meant that I’d soon see Tomas again . . .
I
went to my bedchamber early, just as soon as Beth and Merryl were asleep, but of course I could not close my eyes. I knew I must stay awake in order to go in search of Miss Charity, and besides, was so excited at the thought of being invited to Court by the queen that sleep was the last thing on my mind, and my thoughts were dancing all over the place.
I mused on the girl I had to find, and pondered on the reasons she’d been taken: because of the fee to be earned by restoring her to her family, of course, but also, perhaps, for the increase in prestige Dr Dee would gain by discovering, by supposed occult means, someone who was missing.
I’d known of my employer’s name and standing before I’d come to work at his house, but had since realised that his appointment as court magician had been based upon past achievements, when he was young and the queen new on the throne. He was old now, and over the years he’d increased his vast knowledge (or so I deduced from the books in strange languages he pored over and the vast charts of oceans he calculated). However, he had not succeeded in discovering that which would set him on the pinnacle of his profession: the philosopher’s stone which would change base metals into gold, and provide the secret of eternal youth. Beth had told me that Mr Kelly spoke to angels who’d pledged they’d reveal these secrets, but she’d also told me that so far all the revelations had been given in a strange language, using a code which Dr Dee and Mr Kelly had not managed to decipher.
Eventually, Mr Kelly went home, Dr Dee retired for the night and the house, apart from the various creakings and groanings of its timbers, became hushed. Still I waited, making myself go through the letters of the alphabet and shaping each in my mind until, at last, I deemed it safe to rise.
During the day I’d hidden away two sturdy candle-ends, and I stuck both of these on to a tin plate and found that they threw quite a reasonable light. It was blessed cold, though, so I dressed warmly, putting my day clothes over my shift, wearing gloves and a pair of thick woollen stockings, and having two shawls about my head. I then stood in my bedchamber with my ear pressed to the door, listening to the sounds of the house to make quite sure that no one was about, for I knew that Dr Dee would occasionally, on an auspicious date, rise in the middle of the night to commune with spirits. I wondered at this stage of the whereabouts of the children’s monkey, and hoped that – as was usual at this hour – he was fast asleep somewhere close to the kitchen fire and would not set up a chattering when he heard me stepping out.
I only had my own senses, I realised, for believing that Miss Charity was being held somewhere in the house against her will, for it could be that the letter I’d conveyed to her father was perfectly genuine in its offer to scry for her; it could be that the sighs and moans I’d heard had been nothing but the wind. But my inner voice spoke to the contrary, and since I’d been living in this house I’d learned to listen to what it told me, however unlikely the message seemed.
Gently, I lifted the latch and pulled open the door, then began to make my way along the passageway to the library. It was in here, I was sure, that I’d find Miss Charity, for one afternoon when I’d been playing hide-and-seek with my little charges I’d discovered a small, secret chamber behind the library fireplace – a chamber that no one else in the family seemed to know was there. Later, Mistress Midge had told me that when our queen first came to the throne, those Catholics who wanted to continue to celebrate Mass in their homes oft provided a place for a priest to take cover if the Protestant church authorities called, and this was one such hidey-hole.
