Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set (52 page)

The sound of bells ringing penetrated Cat’s reverie.

“London,” Ned said.

“But the city is still miles away,” she protested.

“That is the sound of every church bell in a hundred parishes, tolling in memory of Queen Jane.”

The din was deafening when they disembarked for the ride through London on horseback to the Earl of Rutland’s house in Shoreditch, a northern suburb of the city. But just as they reached their destination, an eerie quiet descended.

The mansion itself was not only silent, but nearly deserted, and permeated by an icy chill. Ned set the cook to preparing a light supper and started a fire in Lady Rutland’s parlor with his own hands. He was adept at the task, clearly accustomed to looking out for himself.

“You do not seem much disturbed by being sent away from court,” he observed as he balanced a small piece of wood on the stack of burning kindling.

“It matters little to me where I am,” Cat said, “although I do enjoy Lady Rutland’s company.”

“After the queen is buried, her household will be dispersed. I suppose your sister will go to the Countess of Sussex?”

“So we expect. Temporarily, at least.” Cat supposed she should not be surprised that Ned asked about her beautiful younger sister, but she did not want to talk about Nan. To change the subject, she asked him when he was due to depart for Calais.

“Not for some time.” His blue eyes twinkled in the firelight. “While John Husee meets with Lord Lisle in Calais, I remain here in his place.”

“How pleasant for you.”

“For you, too, I hope. You know how I enjoy spending time with you.”

Absurdly pleased by his comment, Cat felt herself flush. “You are welcome to visit me here as often as you like during your sojourn on this side of the Narrow Seas.”

“I look forward to seeing a great deal more of you.”

A shy smile curved her lips when he winked at her. His added responsibilities meant her stepfather trusted Ned and meant to advance him. Did she dare hope Lord Lisle might consider Ned worthy to court one of his stepdaughters? It would be very easy, Cat thought, for her to fall in love with Ned Corbett.

P
LAIN FACED AS
Cat Bassett was, Ned Corbett thought, it was inevitable that she would fall for his flattery. A few days after he’d brought her to the Earl of Rutland’s house in Shoreditch, they walked together in the gallery, just as they had each day she’d been in residence. When they came to the far end, Ned tugged Cat into his arms and took advantage of the shadows to give her a lingering kiss on the lips.

The clatter of hooves and wheels on the cobblestone courtyard of Rutland House interrupted him before he could do more. He cursed under his breath. The commotion could mean only one thing—Lady Rutland had arrived home.

A short time later, Ned and Cat took their turn greeting the countess. She gave him a narrow-eyed look, but addressed her words to Cat. “Lady Sussex traveled with me from Windsor. Even now she is at her husband’s house in London. Your sister is with her.”

Ned hid his elation. Here was a piece of luck. He had expected the Countess of Sussex to go to the earl’s manor in Chelsea. The place was easily accessible by boat, but would have been expensive for him to visit on a regular basis. The cost of hiring wherries mounted quickly and Ned had to hoard his pennies. Having Nan Bassett in London meant she’d be only a short walk from John Husee’s house, where Ned lodged. He could continue to court Cat Bassett and at the same time pay frequent visits to her sister without incurring any appreciable expense.

The next day Ned made his first call on Lady Sussex. She received him in a bright, sunny room luxuriously furnished with not one, but two chairs. There were Turkey carpets atop the tables and richly woven tapestries
on the walls. And it was overflowing with females in all shapes and sizes.

Ned’s gaze went first to Nan. She had abandoned her gable headdress for a French hood and was all in mourning black. The dark garments flattered her pink-and-white complexion.

Seated next to Nan on a low, padded bench was the countess’s half sister, Jane Arundell, another displaced maid of honor. On a cushion on the floor sat the countess’s orphaned niece, Kate Stradling. Kate had the dark hair and eyes of the Arundells and a heart-shaped face that would have been appealing had it not been spoiled by a rather sallow complexion. On the window seat Ned identified one of the countess’s cousins, Isabel Staynings, who had lost her husband to the most recent outbreak of the plague and was great with child besides. He recalled that Nan was kin to both Kate and Isabel through her mother.

Ned bowed to Lady Sussex and explained that he had been appointed to fill in for Master Husee during Husee’s sojourn in Calais. “I bring letters from Lady Lisle,” he added.

The countess took the one inscribed “To the right honorable and my very good Lady of Sussex.” The other was for Nan.

Offered refreshments, Ned munched on marchpane made with blanched almonds and sugar and sipped barley water while the two women read. Nan’s eyes lifted briefly from the paper to meet his. He winked to let her know that he was aware of the letter’s contents.

“Honor invites you to join her in Calais, Isabel,” Lady Sussex announced. “She writes: ‘If my niece Stayning will take the pain to come over hither, she shall be as welcome as heart can think, and her woman with her.’ That is a generous offer.”

“Lady Lisle always seems to be in need of waiting gentlewomen. None stay long if they have the means to escape her service,” said Jane Arundell. Her acid-tongued remark created an expression of sheer panic on Isabel’s face.

“You are welcome to remain at Sussex House as long as you wish,” Lady Sussex assured her. “I enjoy your company.”

Isabel’s relief was painfully obvious, but so was her embarrassment. “Your mother has always been kind to me,” she said to Nan in a soft, almost inaudible voice, “but I fear she would be a … difficult mistress.”

Nan started to deny it, then shrugged. “Her reputation precedes her. I just hope she does not decide to send for me next. I do not have the liberty of refusing.”

“She will not take you away, not when she knows that we are bound to have a new queen soon,” the countess said. “The king must marry again. He cannot place all his hopes on young Prince Edward. He must beget more sons to secure the succession.”

“He has daughters,” Nan pointed out. “Queen Catherine gave him Mary, and Anne Boleyn’s daughter, Elizabeth, is the very image of her father.”

The countess looked at her askance. “They are both barred from inheriting on the grounds they are illegitimate.”

“It will be months yet before the king is out of mourning,” Ned remarked. He watched Nan closely, trying to gauge her state of mind. He admired Cat Bassett’s serenity, but she was a dull stick compared to her sister. Even when Nan was out of sorts, she had a vibrant quality Cat lacked. And it went without saying that Nan was by far the prettier of the two sisters.

“It may take years to negotiate with some foreign power for a new queen,” Jane said. “She will have to be a princess this time. The king’s marriage is too valuable a tool of diplomacy to waste on another English girl.”

Nan did not look pleased by the prospect of a long delay. Ned took another swallow of barley water to hide his smile. Nan’s discontent suited him, for it provided him with an excellent opportunity.

The next time he visited Sussex House, Ned asked the countess’s permission to stroll with Nan in the walled garden at the back. It contained several small trees, and an expanse of turf had a fountain at its center. Now that it was November, the fountain was dry and empty. No flowers bloomed. The grass was brown. The only color came from plants that stayed green all year round—rosemary, lavender, myrtle, and germander.
Near the far wall, a gardener worked with his spade. Whether he was digging something up or planting it, Ned could not tell.

“Earlier in the week,” Nan said, “I saw a woman weeding a flower bed. These days watching servants work passes for entertainment.”

“Things cannot be so bad as all that.” He was careful to keep the satisfaction out of his voice. She’d been in London less than a week and already she was chafing at the bit.

“Cousin Mary is expecting a child and is loath to do anything to endanger the babe,” Nan said. “For that reason, she has declared that November is a bleak month best spent indoors. When I said I did not wish to pass the time embroidering, she suggested that I play the lute instead.” Nan grimaced and related her last experience with that instrument. Time and distance allowed her to laugh at herself, but her voice also held a deep sadness as she recalled Queen Jane’s reaction to her performance.

“So she threw a pillow at you,” Ned repeated, shaking his head. “Did you play so very poorly?”

“I am an excellent musician. She’d have admitted that, had she lived.”

Having reached a bower, Ned stopped and drew Nan down beside him on a stone bench. “It is a great pity the queen died,” he said, “but at least you had the opportunity to live at court for a little while.”

“All I have to show for my short tenure as a maid of honor are clothes I cannot abide and the services of a tiring maid.”

“No spaniel?” He tried to tease her bitterness away.

“I did not choose to acquire one.”

“Tell me about your maidservant, then.”

“Why?” She held herself stiffly, her eyes suddenly wary.

“So that I may assure myself that she serves you well. While Husee is in Calais, it is my responsibility to see to your every need.”

“Find me a queen to serve, then!”

“Tell me about your maid,” he insisted, certain that any knowledge of the person closest to Nan on a daily basis would prove useful to him.

“Oh, very well! Her name is Constance Ware. She is a girl from
the countryside near one of the earl’s estates. Cousin Mary selected her. Constance is a year younger than I am and still as gangly as a colt. Cousin Mary’s tiring maid has taken her in hand to teach her all she needs to know to dress me and look after my belongings.”

“Are you satisfied with her?”

“She’ll do well enough.” Nan toyed with the embroidered band trimming her sleeves. “Will my sister stay with Lady Rutland, do you think? At one time there was talk that whichever of us failed to become a maid of honor would go to the Duchess of Suffolk, but Mother thought she was too young. The duchess, not Cat. Lady Suffolk is only two years older than I am.”

“Who can say? Cat seems happy where she is.”

“I could go to the duchess in her stead.”

“If not a queen, then a duchess will do? Well, why not? A duchess takes precedence over every countess in the land. But I thought you wanted to be at court. The Duchess of Suffolk remains in the country for some time yet, since she is also expecting a child.”

Nan grimaced. “More babies! It is an epidemic.”

“There has been talk of placing your sister in the household of the Lady Mary.”

Nan’s look of dismay amused Ned, although he was careful not to let his reaction show. A princess, even one who had been eliminated from the succession, still took precedence over a duchess. “Never tell me you want that post for yourself?”

Nan mulled it over. “I suppose not, since the prince appears to thrive. And the Lady Mary is hardly ever at court. They say the king has never forgiven her for siding with her mother over the divorce.”

Ned gave a bark of laughter. “Always thinking. Always planning. Always looking for the best way to get what you want. You are the most determined woman I’ve ever met, Nan Bassett.”

“There is nothing wrong with ambition!” A tinge of pink colored her cheeks as her temper flared.

“Indeed, there is not.” He slid one arm around her waist.

“You grow bold, sir.” But she did not pull away from him.

He tugged her close against his side. “I must make certain you are warm enough. It grows colder by the minute on this gray November day.”

“A paltry excuse for such familiarity,” she chided him, “but it will serve, I think. You do realize that at least one of my kinswomen is certain to be spying on us from that convenient window in the ground-floor parlor?”

He had not. A glance showed him that it overlooked the garden. Ned wished they could adjourn to somewhere more private, but that was like asking for the moon. He would have to content himself with conversation … for now.

“Why are you so unhappy?” he asked.

“What have I to be cheerful about? All my hopes have been dashed. Soon Cousin Mary will go into seclusion, just as Queen Jane did. Once again, I will be cut off from all light, all air, all amusement.”

“Surely that will not happen for some time yet.” He’d not have guessed the countess was expecting a child if Nan had not told him.

“Mary expects to give birth sometime in March.”

“Months away! Perhaps by then the Earl of Sussex may have found you a husband.”

Nan sent an annoyed glare his way. “The earl may have been thrice married himself, but he is no one’s choice as a matchmaker. His idea of a suitable spouse would likely be some minor lord’s youngest son!”

“Ah, my poor Nan!” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Great heavens! If that is the case, you might as well marry me.”

Irritated, she pulled free of his embrace. “I would rather die a maid than wed a man with no money.”

Ned winced. “What a waste that would be! No one with any sense, my sweet, would voluntarily choose chastity if they had any other alternative. Do you seriously think you can live all your life without ever sampling the joys of love? Dearest Nan, I can imagine no worse fate.”

She punched him lightly on the arm. “Far worse to live a life of abject poverty. Or one of servitude. Or of utter boredom.”

When Nan stood, Ned followed suit. They began to stroll again, weaving in and out among the raised flower beds. “I am sorry you are so unhappy with your lot.”

“I thought my life would be full of excitement once I escaped Calais. Even if I cannot be at court just now, there should be other pleasures. London is right out there.” She gestured toward the garden wall. Very faintly, they could hear the noises of the city beyond. “It is so near, and yet I cannot venture into its streets. I vow I am wasting away for want of freedom. When I lived in France as a child, we often left the château. I rode out into the countryside, just for the exercise. And once Madame de Riou took me to the French court and I saw King Francis himself.”