The Other Countess (20 page)

‘Oh!’ Ellie said, suddenly remembering. ‘I mustn’t get grass stains on Dame Holton’s clothes!’

The countess and Jane arrived at a run, their faces flushed.

‘My!’ said Lady Dorset, hand to her racing heart. ‘I haven’t run like that for years!’

‘What’s this, Mother, dashing about the garden?’ Will stepped into the grassy clearing round the sundial to find the four women collapsed in degrees of rumpledness on the ground. Sun making his hair shine, he had a tennis racket slung
over one shoulder and was dressed only in a shirt and hose, no peascod velvet doublet to disguise the breadth of his shoulders and flat stomach. Ellie felt her mouth go dry, told herself it was the exercise and looked away.

‘Yes, dear,’ said the countess. ‘I may be old at thirty-eight but even I am not past exerting myself from time to time.’

‘Old, madam, never let that be said!’ declared Sir Henry, following Will, his racket tucked under his arm.

James arrived on their heels. ‘What’s all this?’ he asked as he sketched a bow to the ladies.

‘Mother. Running,’ Will said deadpan. His eyes moved to Ellie. ‘With our guests.’

James held out a hand to help the countess to her feet. He continued the motion to scoop her up and swing her in a circle. ‘Splendid! I don’t think I’ve seen such a smile on your face, Mother, since Father died.’

The countess stroked his cheek affectionately.

‘Me! Me!’ demanded Sarah, wanting her turn to be spun.

‘All right, pest.’

Sarah got a violent whirl, which left her in a breathless heap.

‘Any more takers?’ James asked the ladies, his eyes on Jane.

Jane looked away, embarrassed. Eager to ease an awkward moment for her friend, Ellie quickly stepped forward.

Before James could oblige, Sir Henry advanced.

‘Unfair, Master Lacey, why must you get all the lovely ladies? I pray you take my sister, and I’ll handle this fair burden.’

Before Ellie had time to think up an excuse, he took her firmly by the waist and twirled her round. It wasn’t fun like the dance at the maypole – it was horribly like being trapped
on a whirligig at the fair. She stumbled into him, the garden a blur of colour.

‘Hmm, lovely,’ Henry said in a low voice, letting his hands rove.

Ellie pushed herself away, in time to catch Will’s gaze on the pair of them. He looked worried and angry, a fair summary of her own feelings being back in close proximity to Sir Henry. Fortunately, the countess was quick to restore sanity to their May-madness.

‘My dears, enough of this before we scandalize the gardeners! Shall we proceed inside? We dine at noon and some of us need to dress.’ She smiled pointedly at her sons. ‘Sir Henry, will you escort me?’

Reminded of his duty to his hostess, Henry turned from Ellie and offered his arm. Ellie breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Lady Jane, Lady Eleanor?’ Will held out a hand to them both. ‘May I?’

‘Not fair, Will,’ grumbled James. ‘Leave one for me, won’t you?’

‘You can bring Sarah.’ Will winked at his younger sister still flopped in her heap of skirts. ‘Remind her to assume the role of lady before we reach the table, please.’

Sarah grimaced at her brother and struggled to her feet. ‘Stupid skirts. Wish I could wear hose.’

‘No!’ said Will and James in unison.

‘Wasn’t my idea to race – that was Ellie.’

Ellie raised an eyebrow.

‘All right, it was my idea – but she agreed.’

James brushed the grass off her skirt, patting her rather harder than necessary on the behind. ‘Minx.’

‘Oaf,’ she retorted, dancing out of reach.

Will groaned. ‘Ladies, I hope you are not getting the wrong impression of my family. We can be very well behaved when we try.
Can’t we, Sarah?
’

Ellie laughed. ‘I think Jane and I, the very pattern of decorum at all times, have exactly the right impression, my lord.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Jane, catching Ellie’s eye across Will’s chest. ‘They are hopeless, the whole pack of them.’

‘Tennis-playing terrors.’

‘Mad, mincing mooncalves!’

‘Mincing? I take exception to that. I do not mince!’ Will protested good-humouredly as they entered the house. He had led them into the family parlour, a fine panelled room with a view across the gardens. The sun bathed the chamber with rich warm light, making the oak glow. ‘Jamie might though.’

‘Do not,’ growled James.

‘But pardon me, ladies: we must dress ourselves for dinner.’ Will relinquished their arms and bowed. ‘If you would care to rest here awhile, the musicians will entertain you.’ He nodded to a lutenist and viol player hired for the occasion.

James towed Sarah with him, telling her that her skirt was beyond saving and she too would have to change. Jane watched the exchange wistfully.

‘You like James Lacey, don’t you?’ Ellie said softly. She sat down on the cushions lining the window seat.

‘Yes,’ Jane admitted candidly. ‘He’s a wonderful brother.’

Ellie glanced at Sir Henry who was just taking his leave of the countess at the other end of the room. ‘They’re a wonderful family. I envy them having each other.’

Jane’s face darkened. ‘Not all brothers are a blessing.’

‘I suppose not. But I’ve never had one so I have never had the opportunity to be disillusioned.’ She reminded herself that Jane was destined to join the family and she owed it to her friend to ease the way. ‘The earl is very kind too.’

‘He’s very polite. Very proper.’

Not to her, he wasn’t, thought Ellie, remembering the stolen kiss. ‘He’ll make a considerate husband.’

‘Perhaps.’ Jane rearranged her skirts, picking a piece of grass out of a seam. ‘I suspect his affections lie elsewhere. If I marry him, I’ll only get half the man.’

In her situation, Ellie knew she’d happily settle for half. ‘I doubt he would do anything to disgrace you.’

‘No, but he’ll never truly love me, will he?’

‘I … I don’t know.’ Ellie twisted her hands in her lap.

‘If he looked at me with a scant part of the desire he looks at you, then I would have some hope for us.’ Jane’s tone was matter-of-fact, no blame attached to Ellie.

‘But I’m … we’re not …’

‘No, of course not, Ellie.’ Jane covered Ellie’s hands with her own. ‘You can’t help the fact he’s attracted to you, but you must know he won’t marry you. He’s after a rich bride and I seem to fit the order. Shame for us both, don’t you think?’

Ellie swallowed. ‘Yes.’

‘I’d prefer to marry an old man who’d croak before a month was out, leaving me free. If I do have to marry the earl, please tell me I won’t lose your friendship? I have so few of them.’

Ellie smiled bravely. Visiting Jane when she was the Countess of Dorset would be like voluntarily sticking needles in her flesh. ‘Of course, I’ll remain your friend – that’s if you still want to see me.’

‘I will.’ Jane pulled her hand away, resuming her pose of demure lady.

‘You are very kind – very understanding.’

Jane shook her head. ‘No, you’ve got me all wrong, Ellie. I can be a bit of an old witch.’ The words were shocking coming from the lips of such a perfect-looking lady. ‘Just ask my maid – or my brother for that matter.’

‘Then they are wrong.’ Ellie frowned. ‘Or only partly right.’

Jane choked in surprise.

‘I just meant that I think we all have the capacity to be … um … witches when pressed.’

Jane smiled at the embarrassed tone Ellie used to repeat her insult. ‘No, Ellie, there’s a reason you were chosen as May Queen. You’re nothing like me.’

Ellie leant forward. ‘I kneed your brother in the … well, you know.’

Startled, it took Jane a moment before she let loose her laughter. ‘And I wager he deserved it.’

Ellie bit her lip and nodded. ‘I kicked the earl in the shin too.’

‘Good for you! But that still doesn’t make you nasty like me. I’m quite cold-hearted, you know. Vengeful too.’

Ellie gave her a sceptical look. ‘If you want vengeance, I wager
they
deserve it,’ she said repeating Jane’s words.

Jane nodded. ‘Oh yes, definitely.’

15

Dinner was a revelation to Will. His future wife was more animated than he’d ever seen her before, quite on fire with wit in the company of Ellie and James. Their end of the table was by far the liveliest; he felt quite jealous. Why did Jane not smile and laugh like that for him? And why did Ellie have to be so … so irresistible in her borrowed finery and tumbled hair? She looked like she had just been rumpled by a lover, her stomacher coming unpinned and petticoats hooked up at the back. He didn’t think she’d noticed but Sir Henry had. He was regarding her with the hankering look of a dog eying a bone, just waiting for the cook to turn his back so he could sneak it away. Foolishly, in the garden at Windsor, Will had made it sound as if he approved of Henry’s designs on her. Now he would have to make sure his attention didn’t lapse; he had to keep her safe.

‘My lord?’ Ellie was addressing him and by the tone of her voice, not for the first time. So much for keeping his attention fixed – he’d clearly been daydreaming for some time.

‘Lady Eleanor?’

‘The villagers say you expect more visitors. Is that true?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, indeed. I believe you’ll know at least one
of the party. Master Cecil is touring the area with Sir Francis Walsingham.’

Her face brightened. ‘Cecil? Coming here? Oh, that is good news. Now I have someone else with whom I can discuss Virgil.’

This remark was followed by silence due to amusement on the gentlemen’s parts and shock on behalf of the ladies.

‘You read Virgil, my dear?’ asked the countess, rather in the tone one used for confirming a terminal diagnosis.

‘Um, yes?’ Ellie replied uncertainly. ‘I’ve borrowed a copy from my hostess’s new guest. The
Eclogues
are very …’ She tailed off, realizing that she was only making it worse trying to explain.

‘A veritable Sappho!’ James declared, breaking the awkward silence and toasting her with his wine goblet.

‘I hope without the preference for her own sex,’ muttered Henry.

‘And who is this scholar, Lady Eleanor?’ Will said quickly, changing the subject.

‘A Master March, a friend of Dame Holton’s. A gentleman who has been travelling on the continent until recently.’

‘He must make good company for your father,’ the countess said kindly.

Ellie nodded. ‘Yes, they debate long into the night. I think he knows many of the same men of learning that my father once knew when we lived in Spain.’

‘Not another alchemist?’ asked Will, wary that Stoke-by-Lacey was becoming a haven for that detestable breed.

‘No, no, I think he’s quite sceptical of the art. He says that trying to make gold transgresses God’s laws of creation.’

‘Sensible man. Perhaps we should invite him to dine when Walsingham and Cecil are here?’

‘I doubt he would come. His circumstances are much reduced and he says he wishes to remain in obscurity. It is a shame for his Greek is much better than mine. Master Cecil would enjoy meeting him.’

Will began to feel faintly jealous of this man who had Ellie’s admiration.

‘What manner of man is he?’ he asked, rather more abruptly than he intended. ‘Young, well looking?’

James shot him a look, dipping his head towards Jane who was absorbing every word that was said – and unsaid – in this exchange.

‘Fairly old, I would guess. A little stooped and his health is not good. About my father’s height. Why, do you know him?’

Will shook his head. Nothing to fear from her cool description. ‘No, Lady Ellie, but tell him that he is welcome to dine with us if he wishes to break his vow of anonymity.’

‘Thank you. I will.’

The family party lost much of its sparkle once Ellie returned home. Will played chess with Henry and then read aloud to the ladies, but time crawled by. Lady Jane retreated back into her shell of perfect lady, making polite conversation and venturing only the most conventional opinions on the subjects under discussion. James had abandoned them, saying he needed a vigorous ride to clear his head. Will couldn’t blame him; he only wished his duties as host had not prevented him from accompanying his brother.

During the tedious afternoon, as moment by moment limped by like a beggar pacing St Paul’s Walk, he could feel his mother giving him concerned looks. He feared his partiality for their dinner guest had been too apparent. Had he also hurt Jane’s feelings? He studied her calm profile over the top of his book: her blue eyes were dipped to the piece of needlepoint she was working in a frame, her milky skin untroubled by a blush or freckles, anything to suggest that she was a fallible human like the rest of them. She really was too perfect for his ramshackle family.

He turned to his mother’s favourite poem.

‘My true love hath my heart, and I have his,

By just exchange, one for the other given
,’ he read aloud.

But he didn’t have Jane’s. The poetic words were a lie. For all Jane’s glowing beauty, she left his heart cold. Could he survive a marriage built on such an icy foundation? Could the lady? He wanted warmth, love and laughter. He wanted Ellie.

He faltered in his reading. Saints in heaven – he’d gone and fallen in love with a penniless girl with a father he abhorred. Anyone more unsuitable he could not imagine. But his true love was someone quite different from the woman he was supposed to marry.

‘Will?’ the countess queried. ‘Something wrong with the sonnet?’

‘No, no, Sidney’s words are very fine.’ He cleared his throat and continued.

‘
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss
:

There never was a better bargain driven
.’

Marriage was nothing but a bargain that both parties entered into with open eyes. Jane did not expect his heart,
only his title and his respect. The problem was what to do about Ellie?

‘
My true love hath my heart and I have his.
’ He forced himself to read the last line as if his own heart were not crumbling in his chest at the thought of giving her up forever. He snapped the book shut. ‘If you will excuse me, ladies, I must exercise Barbary. I have quite neglected him all day.’