Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set (57 page)

Ned showed them the chapel, with its fine altar cloth of gold paned with crimson velvet, and the armory, and pointed out the stables, the stilling-house, the bakehouse, and the laundry. After a quick tour of the kitchen and other domestic offices, including the countinghouse, he delivered his charges to a small chamber furnished with a field bed, a Flanders chair, a cupboard, and a closestool. The boxes and trunks Botolph and Philpott had brought with them from England were stacked in a corner.

“I vow, Corbett, I am parched,” Botolph said. “Where might a man find a drink in this place?”

“Parched,” Philpott echoed.

“I could do with a cup of beer myself,” Ned allowed.

The route to the grooms’ chamber, where Lord Lisle’s men took their ease when not on duty, led past Lady Lisle’s parlor. The soft murmur of feminine voices drifted out. Just as they were about to descend the stairs, a shriek of outrage suddenly rent the air.

“Ungrateful child!” Lady Lisle screeched. “How dare she belittle my gift?”

“It would be unwise to linger,” Ned warned, all too familiar with Honor Lisle’s temper. “Anyone in the wrong place at the wrong time is likely to find my lady’s venom aimed at him.”

Botolph did not argue, and Philpott followed his lead like an obedient puppy. A few minutes later they were safe in the grooms’ chamber. They had the room to themselves. Ned filled three cups with beer and they settled in on stools around a sturdy table.

“What do you think of Lady Lisle?” Ned asked.

“A virtuous woman,” Botolph said. “Sound in her beliefs.”

Meaning she clung to the old ways in religion. Ned himself was content to go along with whatever observances his betters required of him.

“I see now where her daughter got her temper,” Botolph remarked after a few swigs of beer.

Ned lifted a questioning eyebrow. “Which daughter?”

“The one who lives with the Countess of Sussex. Anne, is it?”

“Nan,” Ned murmured.

“A pretty girl, but of somewhat sour disposition.”

“I shall be much distressed if her sister has the same temperament,” Philpott said. “Philippa, that is.”

Poor Mistress Philippa, Ned thought. About to be courted by a man who did not look as if he’d ever had an original thought in his head. The fellow could not have met Sir Gregory Botolph more than a few days earlier and already he deferred to the priest in everything. “Philippa is the quiet one,” he said aloud.

“Cowed into silence by her mother, no doubt,” said Botolph.

“Quiet would suit me.” Philpott’s head bobbed up and down to emphasize the claim. “Biddable.”

Ned smiled to himself. Biddable was something Nan would never be, although seducing her had not been difficult. He was certain he could tempt her into his bed again if he tried. Mayhap get her with child and force the issue of marriage. But what if they did wed? She’d never forgive him for the loss of her dream. She wanted a husband with wealth and a title. He’d never be a nobleman, and to be rich he’d have to marry money. What Nan did not understand was that, to him,
she
was well to do.

Philpott was still rambling on about courting Philippa. Ned was content to let him have her. There were two more Bassett girls. He pictured Mary, beautiful but sickly. She had suffered several relapses since her return to Calais from France. Such a wife might soon make him a widower, free to marry again and obtain yet another dowry. But Lady Lisle guarded her youngest chick like a mother hen. He’d have better luck turning himself into a fox and raiding the coop. Amused by his own wit, Ned refilled his cup.

So, Cat Bassett it must be, and her courtship would have to wait until the next time Ned crossed the Narrow Seas.

It was a pity about Nan, though. He
liked
Nan. They had much in
common, both being determined to better themselves. He supposed that was why they’d never make a match of it.

And yet he was unable to stop himself from asking about her. “What makes you say Mistress Nan Bassett has a sour disposition? Did something untoward occur in the Sussex household?”

Botolph obliged him with a tale Ned found hard to believe. “And so,” he concluded, “Husee retreated in haste while Mistress Nan railed at him like the proverbial fishwife.”

“All that fuss over pearls?”

“Indeed.” Philpott’s head bobbed up and down to confirm it. “It was just as Sir Gregory says. She is a termagant, that one. A virago.”

“There will be more trouble here over the matter, too, for I’ve no doubt that was the cause of Lady Lisle’s distress.” Botolph’s mouth quirked. “Husee wrote to her ladyship of the incident, couching the story in careful words so as not to offend. But Master Warley also sent an account, and he is a fellow who does not know how to be subtle. His letter quoted the exact words Mistress Nan used to disparage the pearls her mother sent.”

Ned set his cup on the table with exaggerated care. “You read the letters?”

Botolph’s expression blossomed into a conspiratorial grin. “How else are humble servants such as ourselves to make our way in the world? Never tell me you do not do the same yourself.”

Ned did not deny it, but neither did he admit to the practice. “You are right about one thing,” he conceded. “The furor over those pearls is not likely to die down for weeks.” Ned had never met a woman more concerned with her own reputation than Honor Lisle. She would not tolerate criticism, especially from members of her own family.

Nan was just as stubborn.

In the course of the next hour, Ned consumed a considerable amount of beer and learned a great deal about the secret lives of priests. Sir Gregory Botolph liked to listen at keyholes and had no qualms about repeating scandal. He’d regaled his companions with a half dozen bawdy
tales before Ned realized that all the priests he ridiculed were staunch supporters of religious reform.

A
NEW MOTHER’S
churching was the celebration of the end of the month of rest she was entitled to after giving birth. It was also a signal that she could once more participate in the sacraments and could resume her conjugal duties.

Nan’s cousin Mary wore a white veil and carried a lighted candle. She approached the church door accompanied by two other married women. There she knelt, waiting for the priest to sprinkle her with holy water. Thus purified, she was permitted to enter the church for the service in her honor.

Throughout the psalms and the sermon of thanksgiving for the Countess of Sussex’s safe delivery, Nan watched Mother Gristwood, the midwife who had delivered young Henry. Both she and the month-old baby were honored guests. The Earl of Sussex was also present, but on this occasion he effaced himself. His countess was the center of attention.

After the service, everyone returned to Sussex House for a feast. The company, Mary’s friends and relations, consisted almost entirely of women. There was eating and drinking and entertainment by minstrels and jugglers. Several hours passed before anyone thought of leaving.

Mother Gristwood was a strapping woman in the prime of life who enjoyed the celebrations as much as anyone else. At last, however, she departed. Accompanied by Cousin Kate, Nan hurried out by way of the lych-gate. They caught the midwife before she’d gone more than a few yards beyond the gatehouse.

Nan, walking a little behind Kate, was careful to keep her cloak wrapped around her to hide her fine clothing. She let her cousin do the talking. They had worked everything out in advance. Nan was certain she could carry off the deception, but she was so nervous she was shaking. Everything depended upon how convincing Kate could be.

Kate had promised to help, so long as she continued to share in the
gifts Lady Lisle sent from Calais. Nan did not fully trust her cousin, but Kate was all she had.

“My serving woman is with child by a scoundrel who abandoned her,” Kate told the midwife, gesturing toward Nan. “I will not have her suffer for it.”

“I’ll not kill the child for you,” Mother Gristwood said.

“Will you deliver the babe in secret and find a family to adopt it?”

Mother Gristwood peered at Nan through the gathering darkness, a calculating look on her face. Giving a curt nod, she named a price for her services. It was high, but less than Nan had feared. If she pawned one of her court gowns, she could raise the money.

“Agreed,” Kate said. “Constance will come to you on the morrow to be examined, accompanied by another maidservant.” The real Constance. Nan’s maid was willing to help her mistress in any way she could, even loaning Nan her name.

“And the delivery?” Mother Gristwood asked. “Am I to be summoned to Sussex House for that?”

“You will be summoned, but I do not yet know to what place.” Kate’s haughty tone of voice discouraged further questions.

The truth was that they had not yet contrived a way to hide the birthing. Bringing a child into the world was a long, painful, noisy process. Even if Nan bit down on a strip of leather to stifle her screams, her secret might well be discovered just when she was at her most vulnerable.

But that was a worry for another time. They had months yet to find a solution to the problem. For now all that mattered was that the midwife had agreed to keep the pregnancy secret.

O
N THE FOURTH
day of May, Nan was in the parlor with the other gentlewomen when Ned Corbett arrived at Sussex House. She had not seen him since mid-March. His very presence in the same room stirred her blood, but she was careful not to let anyone, least of all Ned, guess at her reaction.

John Husee was with him. As usual, he brought news of her family.
“Mistress Catherine is about to leave for Belvoir with my lord and lady of Rutland,” he announced.

Only because she was watching Ned so closely did Nan see the flash of disappointment that crossed his face. She frowned. She’d always suspected that he’d courted Cat as well as herself.

“Has a match been made with Sir Edward Baynton’s son?” Lady Sussex asked.

Husee shook his head. “The Bayntons say Mistress Catherine’s dowry is not large enough.”

Again Ned’s reaction was easy to read—relief. Nan felt her temper rise. Had he taken Cat into his bed, as he had her? Had he gotten
her
with child? Did he plan to ask Cat to enter into a clandestine marriage? Perhaps they already had.

At her first opportunity, Nan dragged Ned into the relative privacy of a window alcove. “Leave my sister alone,” she hissed at him. “She is too innocent for the likes of you.”

In a most annoying fashion, he lifted one eyebrow. “Jealous, Nan?”

She answered with a derisive snort.

“Then why should I heed your desires?”

For one mad moment, she considered telling him about the baby. She even toyed with the idea of agreeing to marry him. But before she could make such a fatal mistake, he leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

“Let us not quarrel, Nan. I have come round to your way of thinking. We were most unwise to give in to passion.”

She frowned, but did not interrupt him.

“You are a beautiful woman, Nan, and I cannot help but desire your body. But neither of us would be happy if we were bound together forever. You belong at court, and I have my own advancement to consider. We are both best served if we refrain from repeating our mistakes.”

“So, what we shared was a … mistake?” She was proud that she kept her voice level. She did not rail at him. She did not strike him. She did not allow a single tear to fall.

“It was. As you yourself concluded.”

For a moment, she almost hated him. Then she glimpsed the deep sadness in his eyes. When Ned immediately made an excuse to leave, Nan was certain it was because he was distraught over losing her. It was strangely pleasant to know she’d had such an effect on him.

Lost in sweet memories of their time together, Nan barely listened to the exchange of news going on all around her. John Husee had to repeat her name several times before she realized that he was addressing her.

“Your pardon, Master Husee. I was woolgathering.”

“Will you walk with me to the gate? I would have a word with you in private.” Husee waited until they were out of earshot before he spoke. “Your mother was most upset to learn that you had given away the pearls she sent you.” His voice was sharper than usual.

“I am sorry to have displeased her.” Nan attempted to sound penitent, even affecting a catch in her voice.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Husee demanded.

“The giving of gifts is part of courtiership.”

“Only when such gifts advance your own interests. I cannot see how Kate Stradling can be of any help to you. She is nothing but a poor relation.”

Nan thought quickly. She could hardly tell Husee the truth. “I am certain Kate will return the pearls if I ask her to. She has them partly as a loan and partly as a gift. I wished to reward her. She has been a most loving friend, always happy to do me a kindness, always ready to help and assist me in any way she can.”
For a price.

“You must be more sensible in future when you bestow your favors.” Husee spoke sternly, obviously more afraid of Lady Lisle than he was of her daughter. “After all your mother has done for you, you must not disappoint her.”

The reminder of just how reckless she had been to bestow her favors on Ned shook Nan’s self-control. She was going to have his child. The burden of keeping that secret became heavier with each passing day. The constant threat of discovery, of ruin, kept her emotions in turmoil. Without warning, tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

Appalled, Husee stared at her. “Mistress Nan! You must not carry on this way. All will be well. I will intercede with your mother on your behalf.”

Nan fought to stem the flood, grateful that Husee misunderstood the reason she was crying. He would not be so sympathetic if he knew what had happened with Ned … or its consequences. She took the handkerchief he proffered, mopped her face, and blew her nose.

“I must win back Mother’s favor, Master Husee,” she said, sniffling. “I will do anything she asks. I cannot bear to have her think ill of me.”

“There, there, child.” Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder. “I will ask Lady Lisle to write you a comforting letter. I am certain that if you amend your ways she will forgive you. But no more overgenerous gifts, eh? And you must show proper gratitude for anything else your lady mother chooses to send you.”