The Greatest Lover in All England (29 page)

Rosie laughed, a chuckle that cracked in the middle. “Trust you, Uncle, to always think of the play.”

He swallowed as if tears clogged his throat. “You made me proud.” He led her to the bier in the corner and helped her lie down. “You made Sir Danny proud.”

“I wish he knew.” Her tears flowed again as she arranged her gown and hands. “I wish somehow he could have seen this.”

Onstage the action went on. Gertrude announced that Ophelia had drowned. Hamlet came to a fresh-dug grave and spoke with the gravedigger. Then Claudius, Gertrude, Laertes, Cedric as the priest, and every spare actor gathered around Rosie as part of Ophelia's funeral procession.

“We're going out now, Rosie,” Cedric whispered. They lifted the bier, and her prostrate form swayed with their stately steps as they entered the stage.

As the corpse of Ophelia, Rosie had only to lie perfectly still with her eyes closed while Laertes and Hamlet fought over the right to be chief mourner at her funeral. She listened as the priest spoke, then Laertes. Off to the side, Hamlet spoke not at all, although he was supposed to come closer and speak.

But no one said a word. The silence loomed loud, then Rosie felt it—a ripple of interest flowing through the audience like a draft of fresh air. Footsteps echoed across the boards, coming closer. Rosie couldn't understand the anticipation that flowed from the cast, nor the feeling of suspense which prickled along her skin.

Someone stood over her. She tried to peek through the tiniest slit in her eyelids, but shadow concealed his face. Then he spoke Hamlet's line in familiar, beloved tones. “‘What, the fair Ophelia!'”

Emotions—amazement, jubilation, exultation—burst forth inside her. She sat up on the bier and reached out. “Dada!”

Sir Danny fell to his knees and clutched her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. They hugged and kissed, father and daughter united again, laughing and crying, rocking together.

Onstage, Uncle Will blew his nose on a big kerchief. Alleyn knocked his wig and crown off wiping the tears off his face. The others nudged each other and sniffled, and Dickie…Rosie didn't care about Dickie.

Grabbing Sir Danny by the hair, she looked for bruises on his face, then picked up his hands and examined them. He looked thin, but healthy, and she demanded, “How?”

“Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth.” He nodded toward the canopied throne. “She arranged it.”

“You're here? You're free?”

“With her good grace.”

Rosie looked toward the row of chairs and half rose in thankfulness, then realized—the play! But no one seemed to care. The audience was crying, laughing, and clapping, involved in the story unfolding before their eyes and forgetting the fiction that had earlier absorbed them. All sense of tragedy had vanished, and nothing would restore it now.

With a smile, Rosie chided Sir Danny. “You disrupted my performance, Dada.”

“And a stellar job you were doing, too.” He beamed proudly, then added softly, “I always knew you had grand emotions welling inside you, begging for release. You've proved yourself the equal of every actor here.”

“And proved you were right.”

“There is that.”

He tossed his hair back, and Rosie thanked God that prison hadn't killed the vanity in him.

Footmen flung open the doors and lit candles on the wall, and the glow extended throughout the room. Sir Danny assisted Rosie off the stage and toward the canopied chair where Her Majesty sat, a smile curving her thin lips. Jean, Ann, and Lady Honora surrounded her. With gestures and smiles, Jean and Ann tried to
indicate what Rosie should do, but Rosie didn't need to be instructed. She fell to her knees before the queen and bowed her head in total reverence. “Your Majesty, my deepest thanks for releasing Sir Danny from that prison.”

“Thank Sir Danny.” Queen Elizabeth's voice surprised Rosie. Rosie had expected depth and majesty, and instead she heard a thin, old woman quaver. “He bought his life with his honesty, and his liberty with his medical skill.”

Rosie slanted a look at Sir Danny, beside her on his knees. Adoration, confusion, and conceit warred on his countenance. Whatever Sir Danny had done, he'd done well, and Rosie's heart swelled with pride for him. He'd always believed in his own magnificent destiny, and he'd proved himself at last.

“But I let him watch the play and sent him onstage to surprise you.” Queen Elizabeth sounded smug. “For that you may thank me.”

She extended one long, slender hand, and Rosie pressed a fervent kiss on the knuckles. “My gratitude shall never fail, and I will serve you to the end of my days.”

Queen Elizabeth tilted Rosie's face up. The famous, heavy-lidded eyes examined Rosie thoroughly. “You
are
Lady Rosalyn Bellot.”

Taken aback, Rosie didn't know what to say. Perhaps rumor had told Queen Elizabeth of the return of the Bellot heir, but who had pointed the finger at Rosie? Was it Sir Danny? But nay, he stared in astonishment at the queen, then glanced at Lady Honora.

A faint, fond smile curved Lady Honora's lips, and she nodded at Sir Danny.

The queen's narrow lips pinched together, creasing her upper lip into a multitude of wrinkles. “You look a
great deal like your mother, and I see nothing of your father in you.”

Her Majesty's tone conveyed disapproval and rancor, and something in Rosie rose to the challenge. Staring directly at the queen, she said, “I have much of my father in me. I would never have proved my right to Odyssey Manor without the memories my father left me.”

“Proved?” Queen Elizabeth lifted one narrow brow haughtily. “No one has proved your right to Odyssey Manor to
me
.”

Sir Danny seemed to have trouble shifting his attention from Lady Honora to the conversation at hand, but at last he stammered, “Lord Sadler's letter is not here, but I beg Your Majesty to believe in its reality.”

“I don't need the letter.” Rosie lifted the chain from her neck and held it out to the queen. “I have my father's ring.”

Queen Elizabeth snatched it out of her hand.

Sir Danny exclaimed, “Where did you get that?”

Gathering in a wide circle around the throne, the nobles craned their necks to see and hushed each other to hear.

And off to the side, Rosie heard a sound of shock or awe or dismay. Something made her take her attention from the queen, and look—and she saw Tony.

Tony! He knelt not ten feet from her, and he stared at her as if her very presence fed him joy.

As much joy as his presence gave her. She hadn't realized, until she saw him, how much she'd needed him, but now she worshiped him with all of her pent-up yearning. He stood, and she watched each magnificent ripple of muscle. He walked toward her, and she tensed, prepared to run to his arms. He knelt beside her, and she lifted her lips for his kiss.

And he faced Queen Elizabeth and said, “Your Majesty, I have saved your kingdom from disaster this day, and in return I would have a boon. I want you to reaffirm my ownership of Odyssey Manor for me and my heirs forever.”

Rosie's jaw dropped
, but Tony couldn't allow himself to feel compassion. He wanted Odyssey Manor, and he wanted Rosie, and what claim did he have on Rosie if Queen Elizabeth awarded her the estate?

“Essex is vanquished?” Queen Elizabeth was as calm as Cecil had claimed.

Tony nodded. “I chased him into Essex House myself.”

The nobles who stood about and the servants who mingled to serve them, applauded his feat, and he bowed his head in acknowledgment.

“I performed my duty to Her Glorious Majesty, good people, nothing more.” Tony bent and kissed the hem of Queen's Elizabeth's skirt.

She accepted his tribute with a gracious smile.

He continued, “Nottingham will have him in custody before the night is over.”

The queen grasped Tony's shoulder as if to congratulate him, then pulled her hand back and dusted the soil from her fingers.

“Forgive the dirt and the blood, Your Majesty, but I came to you today without having my wound stitched or my clothes and body cleaned.” He exaggerated about the wound, of course. It did need to be stitched again, and it ached, but it was yesterday's injury. Still, he wanted to work on the queen's sympathies and remind her of his loyalty. “I wanted to report as soon as possible.”

Queen Elizabeth slanted a look at Rosie. “But you've been watching the play for some moments.”

She'd seen him. Damn. He'd hoped that she hadn't, for he feared she had seen what he could not hide—his adoration of Rosie. Worse still, he feared she had seen what he had seen—Rosie's adoration of him. Rosie expressed such pleasure in his appearance, such longing for his arms, he had scarcely been able to restrain himself. She did love him, he knew it, and he knew nothing was guaranteed to infuriate the queen more. He tried to excuse himself. “Your Majesty, I saw your enjoyment of the performance, and I dared not interrupt you, but now I beg—”

“Aye, aye.” Irritation etched a frown on Queen Elizabeth's face. “I gave you Odyssey Manor before, and I see no reason to change my mind.”

“Your Majesty!” Rosie sounded shocked, and Tony elbowed her hard.

“You do not interrupt your monarch,” Queen Elizabeth said severely.

“But the ring—” Rosie tried again, and Sir Danny elbowed her from the other side.

“This ring”—Queen Elizabeth stroked her thumb across the ruby—“combined with Lady Rosalyn's appearance, proves her heritage, but I cannot deprive Sir Anthony of the gift I presented him so many years ago.” She stroked the ring one last time, then opened Rosie's hand and pressed it into the palm. “Therefore—”

A howl of bloodcurdling rage arrested her. A gray-haired man broke through the surrounding nobles near Sir Danny and hurled himself at the queen.

She raised her hands to protect her face. Tony grabbed for him, but a huge man leaped from behind the throne, knocking the intruder back into the crowd. Pandemonium erupted as aristocrats tumbled like ninepins. The two men hit the floor fighting. The gray-haired man shrieked and pummeled the larger man, pushing him over and over. Drawing his dagger, Tony vaulted toward them, but someone knocked him from behind. He smashed, face first, into a floor.

“'Tis Ludovic,” Sir Danny yelled. “Leave him be.”

Sir Danny had gone mad. The whole world had gone mad, filled with women's screams and men's shouts and a struggle before him that he could not reach.

But Rosie could. With one swing of her weighted purse, she bashed the gray head that loomed above Ludovic. The intruder went limp and silence fell so suddenly Tony's ears ached.

“Your Majesty?” He heard Jean's shaking voice.

“I'm untouched.” The queen sounded calm, calmer than Tony felt. Coming to the scene, she looked down at the two men. “Does anyone know these people?”

Shaking off Sir Danny, Tony crawled to his feet and limped to the two combatants. Ludovic pushed the intruder off and sat up, rubbing his head, while Tony stared at the unconscious form. “Hal?”

“What's he doing here?” Sir Danny asked.

Jean pushed her way to the front. “He came from Odyssey Manor with us.”

“But why?” Tony touched Hal with his toe.

“Because he's the man who robbed my father and left me to die.” Rosie hooked her purse back on her belt.

Everyone gaped at her, and Queen Elizabeth imperiously demanded, “Explain yourself, Lady Rosalyn.”

“He was my father's ostler. He went with us to London to care for the horses, and fled with us when the plague broke out. When the coachman and my nursemaid died, he stripped the coach and left us.” Rosie looked down at Hal and saw that his eyes were open and anguished. “When I met him at Odyssey Manor, he frightened me. When I found the ring, I remembered why. When I found the ring, I remembered everything.”

“But why attack Her Majesty?” Tony asked.

Rosie shook her head. “Why, Hal?”

“Ye got t' have yer lands back.” Hal tried to sit up, but fell back as if he'd been struck again. “Ye got t' have everything due ye, an' I have t' get it fer ye. I owe ye.”

Kneeling beside him, Rosie rubbed his shoulder with her hand. “You can't bring him back. You can't change the past. Make peace with yourself and try to forget.”

“I can't forget. I left ye in that coach wi' yer father, an' he cursed me. He said he'd haunt me 'til my dying day an' after, too. He promised I'd go t' hell, an' he's made sure I did. I went t' Londontown an' sold yer belongings an' lived high, an' all th' time I could see yer big eyes accusing me.” Gingerly, he touched her hand with one finger and pleaded with his rheumy eyes. “When ye came back, I tried t' make it right. I tried t' get those that stood in yer way fer th' estate, but I guess I can't win salvation no matter how hard I try.”

“You tried to kill…?” Tony grabbed Hal by the throat. “It was you?”

“Aye, 'twas him.” Ludovic's accent deepened, and he spread his hands wide as he explained. “I watched the manor all the time after I left the troupe. Waited for my chance with Rosencrantz. Didn't take me long to realize something evil touched your steward.”

“Why didn't you come and tell me?” Tony demanded.

Ludovic laughed bitterly. “You'd have believed me? Believed a foreign mercenary that your steward plotted to kill you and your family?”

Tony's gaze fell away. “I would have put you in the stocks.”

“Never doubted it,” Ludovic said. “But I have always followed after Rosencrantz to take care of her. Even when I realized that she…preferred you, I could not leave her with this crazy one roaming your estate.”

“I would never have hurt Lady Rosalyn.” Again Hal tried to sit up, but Tony pushed him down.

“I didn't know that,” Ludovic said. “Didn't know who you hated.”

“I didn't hate any o' them,” Hal said. “I just had t' help Lady Rosalyn.”

“Enough.” Ludovic lumbered to his feet, bodily picked up Hal, and flung him over his shoulder. Hal squawked and kicked, but with one squeeze Ludovic dissuaded him.

“Where are you taking him?” Queen Elizabeth demanded.

Ludovic blinked at her, then bowed, flopping Hal from side to side. “Bethlehem Hospital.”

“Quite right,” the queen decided.

She stepped aside, but Rosie laid a hand on Ludovic's arm. Ludovic jumped as if he'd been burned and lowered his head. “Ludovic, won't you look at me?”

He glanced up, then down again.

“I thank you for your kindness to me. You have ever been my friend, and Sir Anthony has a position to offer you.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at Rosie, and she glared at him meaningfully.

He glared back. He didn't want Ludovic at Odyssey Manor. He didn't want Ludovic around Rosie ever again, but Ludovic did deserve a reward for his vigilance, instincts, and fighting skill. Tony
did
have a position to offer Ludovic. “This day has proved I need men who have an eye for mischief and the skill to deal with it. When you've dropped off your burden, find Wart-Nose Harry of the Queen's Guard and tell him I sent you. He'll know what to do.”

“What about me?” Sir Danny pushed his luxurious hair out of his face. “Ludovic works for me.”

A strange sound emitted from deep down in Ludovic's chest.

“What's wrong with him?” Queen Elizabeth looked alarmed.

“I think”—Rosie grinned at Sir Danny—“he's laughing.”

“Ah.”

“Never had anybody want me before.” Ludovic snorted. “Now I've got two.”

He stumped out of the room, and Queen Elizabeth said, “Quite an interesting man. He'll be part of my guard, of course.”

“Certes,” Tony said.

“Well.” Queen Elizabeth straightened her puffed sleeves. “I would enjoy a little clear soup before I retire. Ladies?”

Rosie watched with amazement and dismay as the queen walked to the door. Jean and Ann, then her
young ladies-in-waiting fell in behind. The queen was going to leave the matter of Odyssey Manor and her heritage like this? She started after Her Majesty, but Lady Honora caught her arm and hissed a warning.

While Rosie struggled, Tony slipped through the crowd and reached Queen Elizabeth's side. “Your Majesty, what shall we do with Lady Rosalyn?”

“Do?” The queen kept walking down the hall toward her bedchamber. “Why should you
do
anything? Lady Rosalyn is my concern now.”

Rosie jerked away from Lady Honora and ran after them. “What about my estate?”

“I thought I'd made that clear.” Queen Elizabeth glided along, graceful and unperturbed. “'Tis Tony's estate now. Your title is restored, of course, and I'll find you a rich husband to wed, and with that you'll be satisfied.”

“But I thought she'd have to wed me!” Tony objected.

“Not at all. You'll wed Lady Honora.”

Grabbing Sir Danny's wrist, Lady Honora dragged him along as she galloped past Rosie and elbowed Tony out of the way. “I can't marry Sir Anthony.”

“That was your desire, last time I spoke with you.” Queen Elizabeth kept walking. “I wish only to give you your desire.”

“It's not possible for me to marry Sir Anthony. I”—Lady Honora took a deep breath—“I love another.”

That stopped Queen Elizabeth in her tracks. Facing Lady Honora, distaste oozing from every pore, she questioned, “Love? You would wed for love?”

Rosie hadn't believed it possible, but Lady Honora squirmed beneath Queen Elizabeth's austere gaze. “I know it's contrary to everything I've ever believed, but haven't I done my duty for my entire life? Haven't I always married the proper men? And what's the use of
being dowager duchess of Burnham and baroness of Rowse in my own right, of being one of the wealthiest women in England, if I can't wed the man who will make me happy?” Rushing along like a brook in spring flood, she declared, “I'm going to wed Sir Danny Plympton, Esquire.”

The queen stumbled backward. Jean gasped and Ann whimpered. The young ladies-in-waiting broke into unrestrained giggles. And one of Sir Danny's knees collapsed as if it had been struck from behind.

Tony said something—it sounded like, “Praise God”—while Rosie reached for Sir Danny's arm.

Lady Honora brushed her aside, helped him to stand, and faced the queen defiantly. The silence in the hall thickened until Ann piped, “Actually, Sir Danny is a…long-lost cousin on my mother's side.” Everyone stared at her. “From Cornwall,” she added helpfully. “Jean knows more about the details than I do.”

All eyes turned to Jean, who smiled tightly. “'Tis a long tale. A most intricate, lengthy tale, too long to tell in the hallway when Her Majesty is hungry.”

Reminded of her quest, Queen Elizabeth moved along and everyone followed her as closely as they could. She said, “Amazing. Sir Danny is related to the nobility, and Lady Rosalyn was raised by Lady Honora's aunt in perfect respectability. Who knows what further miracles my reign hath wrought?” She inspected Sir Danny and his imminent state of disintegration. “You're undoubtedly the family's fallen angel. What think you of this proposed marriage with Lady Honora?”

Sir Danny ran his fingers inside his ruff and swallowed. “It is more than I ever dreamed.”

The queen stopped at a door, and one of the ladies-in-waiting hastened to open it. A sumptuous bedcham
ber lay within, but clearly the conversation fascinated Queen Elizabeth. How could she abandon it to sit alone, brooding on Essex and his heedless betrayal? Indecisive, she stood there until Sir Danny smiled at her, a smile so sickly her wicked spirit was captivated.

She led the way to the royal study where a brisk fire burned, books lined one wall, a magnificent desk sat close against the window, and a comfortable, well-proportioned chair awaited her. While she seated herself, the people in her train squeezed through the door, elbowing each other, ignoring the rules of priority which Ann had expounded, ignoring everything but their avid curiosity.

“So have I your permission to wed Sir Danny?” Lady Honora asked anxiously.

“I have often forbidden marriages between my young ladies-in-waiting and a reprobate—even if he is the long-lost cousin of a noble family conveniently living in far-off Cornwall—and I've often forbidden marriages among unsuitable members of the nobility, but when the ladies are no longer in the first blush of youth and the nobility lives far from my jurisdiction, weddings happen with or without my blessing.” She looked down her nose at Lady Honora. “If you understand me.”

Lady Honora did, and squeezed Sir Danny's hand with enthusiasm. “Aye, madam.”

Queen Elizabeth watched with heavy-lidded amusement, then said to Sir Danny, “You'll be the husband of a wealthy wife.”

Offended at the charge of fortune hunting, Sir Danny said, “I've had that chance before, Your Majesty, and never taken advantage of it.”