The Queen's Lady (23 page)

Ralegh dropped the point of his sword. ‘Good. I am glad you have seen the error of your ways.’

Paton summoned his brothers with a jerk of his head. ‘You may rule here for now, Ralegh, but how long will that last?’ He stamped out, pushing a path through the crowd when people did not move out of his way quick enough for his taste.

Ralegh shook his head. ‘Well, that told me, did it not, gentlemen?’

The audience laughed, as he had intended, and dispersed to spread the gossip about the marquess’s humiliation in the corridors and anterooms of the palace.

‘Is it enough for you?’ Ralegh asked James shrewdly.

James sheathed his sword. ‘Not nearly. But it will have to do. I’d hurt her more if I took this any further.’

Ralegh tossed him his doublet. ‘Come, I understand I need to offer sanctuary at Durham House to a marchioness.’

Jane woke to find James sitting by her bedside, feet propped on the covers, chin dropped to his chest as he slept. She smiled to herself. He really was here. The distance that had opened between them before he left for America had been closed by last night’s disaster and he was hers once more.

But for how long? As soon as she got out of this bed, she would have to deal with the awful mess she had got herself into with Montfleury. If there were a prize for the worst person at handling their love affairs since old King Henry, then she would be the winner. She clenched her fists, pressing down on the onset of panic. No, she would not give in to hysteria; there had to be a way. At least now she had friends about her. And James.

Just then his foot slipped from the cover, jolting him awake. He opened his eyes to find Jane gazing at him, amused at the momentary confusion in his sleep-befuddled face. He lifted his chin and she saw he had a shallow scratch along his jaw, a bloody line almost hidden by his beard.

‘Did you cut yourself trimming your beard?’

James rubbed his hand over his short whiskers. ‘Aye, beard trimming – but it was a marquess I was shaving.’ He twisted something off his little finger and flourished it.

‘My ring!’ Jane reached out for it.

Smiling, he took her hand and slid it on her finger. ‘There, love, back where it should be. But not for too long, I hope. I pray you will agree to wear my ring very soon.’

Jane tried to pull her hand away but his hold was firm. ‘Jamie, what about my family and Montfleury? I’m in such a muddle.’

‘And I am an excellent solver-of-muddles – let that be my wedding present to you as I have precious little else to offer.’

‘But, Jamie …’

He shook his head. ‘Hush, love. Just trust me. I got you back your ring, didn’t I?’

Jane had been slow to work out how that might have come to pass, but now she realized Richard would not willingly have surrendered it. ‘Did you … did you kill him?’

James caressed her chilled fingers. ‘I was tempted, but no. I fought him for the ring and sent him packing. Ralegh stood up for me – that helped.’

‘Ralegh?’ Jane choked in surprise. That gentleman was not one to whom she would look for favours.

‘Strangely, he has taken a liking to me and you have his respect – his term by the way.’

‘Well.’ Jane was lost for words.

‘He’s doing more. He has gained permission from his mistress for you to remove to Durham House for your convalescence. We need to have you somewhere your father will find it hard to gain entry. The palace is too open to him and I fear he will make some surprise move if we do not keep you safe.’

Humiliation rippled through Jane at the thought of being under Ralegh’s roof. ‘But I can’t go to Durham House!’

‘I know your brother is his friend, but on this matter Ralegh is siding with you. He has promised to keep Henry away.’

He wouldn’t understand what he was suggesting unless she explained. Jane closed her eyes, not wanting to look at James’s face as she confessed. ‘No, James, it is not that. It is just that Ralegh and I, well, we have a history.’ She swallowed, her heart racing again as if she’d drunk more poison.

James was ominously silent.

‘It … it was two years ago.’ Jane could feel tears pricking her eyelids. Was this when she would lose him? Was her stupid mistake going to blight the rest of her life? ‘I thought I loved him and that he loved me. Foolish, idiot girl!’

James cleared his throat. ‘I see. I see.’

‘I think my brother knows. Milly too. And my maid at the time.’ This was torture. ‘I told Jonas, of course, before we married, but he forgave me. He was like that – never saw another’s sins but his own. No one else is aware of what passed between Ralegh and me, though the rumours have followed me, as you know. I … I pray your pardon for not being what you thought I was.’ Silence.

Oh God. ‘Do you … do you want to leave?’

She felt her fingers taken once more in his warm palm. ‘Jane love, look at me.’

‘I can’t. I’m too scared.’

‘Look at me.’

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. He had leant forward so his face was only a few inches from hers.

‘Do I look like virgin territory myself?’

She shook her head, smiling despite herself at the thought.

‘Do you want me to apologize for the beds I have been in before yours?’

‘You haven’t been in my bed,’ she whispered. It was going to be all right, completely all right.

‘And that is a great shame and an oversight I intend to correct with the first priest I can persuade to marry us.’

She caressed his jaw with the tip of her finger. ‘Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve been dreading this.’

‘Nay, do not thank me. Like you, I have my regrets but I don’t want to bring them into our marriage. It is enough to know that from here on there is just you for me and, I hope, me for you.’

‘Oh, yes. No one else.’

He gave a sudden grin. ‘Which is why you are not marrying that cockless Frenchman and are wedding me instead. We will then go on to make a new start, forging good, lusty memories to drive out all others.’

Jane allowed herself an anticipatory smile. ‘I told Ralegh he was a disappointment as a lover.’

‘You did what?’ James roared with laughter. ‘The poor man. He’s a saint for offering you sanctuary when you gave him that particular kick in the crown jewels.’

‘I thought it only fair.’

James abandoned the chair to recline beside her, head propped on one hand. ‘Quite so. He was a blackguard for seducing you – but I can understand the temptation.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘I haven’t made a habit of bedding virgins in my past but I cannot swear that I’ve not hurt a few hearts in my passing. We’ll pay Ralegh back by being outrageously happy and smirking when he sees us in an amorous embrace – and I’m planning plenty of those just to make him choke with jealousy.’

‘A sweet revenge.’ She returned the kiss.

‘Aye, that it is.’

She let the silence stretch for a moment, wondering if she could trust this new country of love that he had led her into. It was hard to believe in this landscape of green hills of contentment and a sunny prospects stretching to the horizon when she was far more used to dark confinements and storms coming out of nowhere. ‘Are you sure, Jamie, that you want me? Really sure?’

He caressed her hair, fingertips playing with the delicate skin behind her ear. ‘Very sure.’

‘But you didn’t want me earlier in the year.’

He sighed. ‘I wanted you, but I didn’t want you to have me as I was then. I felt empty – worthless. I soon realized how I felt about you when I sailed. There’s something about being at sea that sets all in perspective – I was able to slough off the skin of the old guilt and become something shiny and new again. America does that to a man.’

Was he just telling her what he thought she needed to hear for her recovery? ‘You needn’t pretend with me, Jamie. I won’t be offended if you admit you … that you …’ She couldn’t bring herself to say it – that he despised her as she despised herself for her weakness, her faults.

James hugged her closer. ‘I can see you do not yet trust me, madam, and require proof. Fortunately, I have it.’

‘Proof?’

‘Of my feelings for you. This lovesick swain penned you many letters while on his voyage of discovery.’ He tugged a pouch from his belt and placed it in her hands. ‘Here’s proof that the clouds of despondency cleared my mind very soon after leaving these shores – and you were the sun that rose to smile down on me.’

Jane hid her face against his chest, almost afraid to test if this were true. ‘I will look forward to reading them, sir. I would not take you for a lovesick swain – seasick perhaps.’

‘Ah, but that role was already taken. Rest now, my love, or Ellie will beat me around the ears for over-tiring you. Read the letters when I’m gone or I’ll blush to see your eyes on my pitiful outpourings.’

‘You, blush? Never!’

‘It has been known.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘You have more power over me than you can guess, my lady.’

22

Before secretly moving Jane to Durham House, James acted on Milly’s advice and dismissed Jane’s maid; the woman had betrayed too many of her mistress’s secrets to Henry and could not be trusted. All went smoothly: Jane transferred quietly by river with no Perceval interference and was soon lodged in a chamber with Milly to keep her company.

Alone for the first time since talking with Jane, James chose to walk back to Whitehall. He wanted time and space to make private peace with Jane’s confession of her brief affair with Ralegh. He had known as soon as she started on her story that this was one of the moments in his life that he would regret eternally if he got it wrong. He was quite sincere in not blaming her for a lapse when his own balance sheet looked far worse. Still, he did not like the idea that Ralegh had known her first. She was his – his territory. The thought that another colonizer had got there before him turned his stomach.

And, of course, he admitted, that was entirely unreasonable of him. It had all happened before she even knew him and she had led a blameless life since. As Diego had pointed out about America, territory could not be claimed so easily. Being first was something of a fiction. What mattered was who lived there now. He should start making new memories with Jane to further his claim, not fret about the old.

As he turned towards the palace gate, a rough-looking middle-aged gentleman stepped into his path, his doublet showing the scuffs and stains of a traveller. Fearing the Patons had come back for revenge, James put his hand to his sword, then realized he did not recognize the person as belonging to the Rievaulx entourage.

‘May I help you, sir?’ he asked, deciding to try politeness first.

‘Master Lacey?’

‘Aye.’

‘My name is Silas Porter, Milly’s father.’

James let his hand drop from his sword hilt and gave the stocky soldier a military-style nod of the head. ‘Sir. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.’

Silas returned the gesture. ‘May I walk with you? I am afraid I cannot enter the palace – I lost my welcome there some years back.’

It was not hard to guess what Silas wanted to talk about; James anticipated that they would need privacy for the discussion. ‘Let us walk on the riverside.’

He led the way beyond the sprawling royal complex to the road leading to the village of Chelsea. Here the country reasserted itself – more trees than houses, a fine view of the bend in the river taking the Thames into the heart of England, a white-washed mill, waterwheel turning slowly in a mill race fed by the Thames. Three boats rowed downstream, brightly dressed courtiers their cargo, bees returning to the court hive and its queen.

‘Your man wants to marry my girl,’ Silas said with no more ado.

James sighed. Was this going to be another approach like that of Christopher Turner? ‘So I understand.’

‘What think you of the match? I know my lass has her heart set on it but I fear for them both.’

Silas’s point was fair. Their union would attract much harmful attention. ‘Diego is a fine man and a good friend. They both deserve their happiness.’

Frustrated by the position in which he found himself, Silas ground his fist into his open hand. ‘But how can we make sure they are safe? I have done a poor job thus far, but I must make a stand if I think she is condemning herself to a lifetime of misery.’

‘In this case, misery, if it comes, will come from the outside for they are well suited and, I sincerely believe, can make each other more than content. That is more than can be hoped from many marriages.’

Thinking about that for a moment, Silas kicked a twig from his path. ‘I know that, but men can be cruel. Sometimes two people are not enough.’

James wondered what arguments he could employ to sway the father. Then he saw the answer. ‘But, Master Porter, you are mistaken: they are not only two.’

‘What! She’s with child!’ spluttered Silas, leaping to quite the wrong conclusion. ‘I’ll geld your man if that is so!’

James gulped back a laugh. ‘Goddamn my foolish tongue, no! I am not gifted at this kind of talk, sir, pray pardon me. I’m a soldier not a poet, but even a rough man such as I can tell you your daughter is virtuous.’

‘Humph, just as well. Forgive me: I am apt to rush my fences.’ Silas smiled with rueful self-knowledge. ‘I’ll hold my peace. Let’s see what two fumbling warriors can make of this.’

Without needing to speak, they paused by mutual consent at a little landing place and sat down on an upturned boat. Strange, despite the difference in age, James felt in harmony with the other man, sensing they shared many characteristics in common – a rash temper being one of them.

‘Pray pardon me for causing you a moment’s alarm. What I mean, sir, is that your daughter has friends to protect her – as does my man. I’ve already told Diego that if London proves too hot to hold them, then they will always have a home at Lacey Hall. And, if I do not anticipate too much, they would also be very welcome in my household when I marry my lady.’

Silas perked up with interest. ‘Oh? What lady is this that would welcome a marriage like my daughter’s?’

‘Lady Jane, the Dowager Marchioness of Rievaulx.’

Silas guffawed and slapped his knee. ‘Excellent, i’faith! So you have stepped forward to claim the lady – cut her free from the toils in which she was caught. I wish you joy – that lass is another pearl.’

James warmed to his heartfelt praise. ‘And I’m the lucky swine who intends to have her.’

The breeze picked up, whipping the water against the posts of the landing stage, reminding James that he still had much to do that day, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to hurry Milly’s father.

Silas scratched his chin for a moment, thinking through the options. ‘Where will you settle?’

James shook his head. ‘That is as yet unclear. My lady serves the Queen and may wish to continue to do so. I have to make my way and court does offer the most chances for a man in my position.’

Silas grunted. ‘Aye, second son – I know what that feels like. But a court life is good. My Milly is a damn fine woman of business. I don’t like to think that her dream be dismantled just because Londoners are too prejudiced to use her services. If she has your protection, and that of the lady, I think the commoners will not snub her.’

James hadn’t given the matter the thought it deserved, but he realized Silas was right. There was little point Milly and Diego retiring to Lacey Hall when their skills were ones that were valued by the nobility and gentry. If he were going to raise his manservant’s fortunes, court would be the place to do it.

‘So you do not object to the match on principle?’

‘What father likes to see his little girl go off to another man?’ Silas shook his head at his own selfishness. ‘But, no, I’ve always liked Diego, even if I never thought him to be a prospective son-in-law. I’m a travelled man and not narrow in my views. My last remaining reservation is that he is not quite orthodox in his beliefs. A few years back that could’ve ended at the stake.’

James privately thought Diego was completely over the line as far as doctrine was concerned, but seeing he had his own doubts that did not shock him unduly. He rather hoped that they both would benefit from the influence of their more orthodox wives. ‘Fortunately, under this queen, we live in happier times. Diego’s beliefs are those of his homeland, overlaid with what he has learnt among us – nothing as incendiary as being a Catholic.’

James had meant that as a jest but Silas winced. His own treason had been rooted in his adherence to the faith of his upbringing; he’d since learnt, as many others had, to keep quiet and seek the common peace. ‘If you give him your support in this as well as in the rest, then I am content.’

Pleased that he had been of use to his faithful companion in so vital a matter, James held out his hand and shook on the agreement. ‘Very good. You have my word. Now, will you come back with me after I’ve run my errand and break the news to the bride and groom? They are both at Durham House with Lady Jane.’

‘Aye, gladly. But what errand is that?’

‘I have to persuade a Frenchman that he has no desire to wed my lady.’

‘’Swounds, I’d like to see this. Need a second?’

‘Verily. I could do with a reasoning voice if I lose my temper.’

Silas chuckled. ‘You’ve got the wrong man then, son, but I promise to hold your cloak if you want to thump him.’

Enquiring about Whitehall, James quickly discovered that Montfleury lodged at Master Mann’s in Red Cross Street, one of the many owners of fine houses who supplied the needs of the overflow from the court. With Silas still in tow, he arrived outside the substantial three storey building in the heart of the city at the supper hour, hoping this would mean the Frenchman was at home. The landlord confirmed that Montfleury was within, but appeared reluctant to admit them.

‘He’s with guests, your worships,’ Mann prevaricated. ‘Don’t like to be disturbed when he has company.’

James fished out a coin from his purse. ‘I assure you, sir, he’ll be delighted to see us.’

The money disappeared with admirable swiftness into Mann’s apron pocket. ‘In that case, sirs, you follow me. Shall I announce you?’

Silas grabbed the back of the landlord’s jerkin. ‘Nay, in these cases, ’tis best we surprise them.’

The host quickly surveyed the two men, both capable and with the unmistakable air of soldiers. ‘You’re not going to shed blood under my roof, are you? I’ve no love for the frog, but I keep a decent house, I do.’

James pushed past Mann before he changed his mind and barricaded the stairs to them. ‘Have no fear: we come in peace.’

‘Just don’t leave him in pieces!’ quipped the landlord, before making himself scarce.

James paused outside Montfleury’s room. Within he could hear several masculine voices, all talking in quick-fire French, punctuated by frequent bursts of laughter.

Silas nudged him. ‘What are you waiting for?’

True, this scene was not going to get any easier, with or without witnesses. James put his hand to the latch and entered.

As anticipated they had interrupted supper, but the scandalous company they had not foreseen. Montfleury lay like some debauched god on a pile of red and purple cushions, dressed only in a shirt and hose; his male companion was similarly attired; the third man at the low table had the added garnish of a lightly clad girl on his lap. They looked up in surprise to find intruders at their feast.

James focused his scorn on Montfleury. ‘So this is how the bridegroom prepares for his wedding while his betrothed lies in her sickbed. I am touched to see how deep runs your concern for her wellbeing.’

Recovering from his momentary surprise, the Frenchman shrugged and raised his glass to the newcomers. ‘I can be of no use to the lady so I enjoy myself. It is not a sin.’ He smirked at his handsome companion.

James wasn’t so sure about that. ‘
No use
is correct. As a husband, you would be nothing but a burden to the lady – and she to you – so I have come to rid you of that particular bridle on your freedom. I’m here to tell you that I’ll be marrying Lady Jane. Your choice is to withdraw your suit quietly or fight me for her.’

Montfleury snorted with disdain. ‘Gods, you Englishmen are so amusing, coming like a little bulldog to bark at my gate. I do not need to fight you – I have the family’s permission, the Queen’s approval, what more do I require?’

James smiled with studied nonchalance and helped himself to a fistful of grapes from a basket on the sideboard. ‘The lady. You forget the essential ingredient. That is the entire problem with this match – you have no use for a woman and she has no use for you. It makes no sense for you to persist when you will only end up standing at an altar, a notorious geck and gull. No honour for your house in that.’

Silas slapped Montfleury’s companion out the way as he took over the young man’s cushion. ‘Do up your laces, lad,’ he said briskly. ‘So much lilywhite flesh at the supper table turns my stomach.’

Confused by the rough manners of the old soldier, the boy scuttled back to the bed like a crab hiding under a stone. The drab giggled and offered Silas a plate of pastries.

Montfleury sat up straight, shying away from Silas who made a point of crowding him as he filled his plate from the delicacies displayed on the low table. ‘You are naive, sir. This wedding is not about the lady.’

‘A marriage? And not about the lady? That’s a fine pickle,’ commented Silas, winking at the girl.

‘
Pas du tout
, marriage for the nobility is commerce. It is business.’ Montfleury scowled at Silas.

James insinuated himself into the gap on Montfleury’s other side. ‘So if the terms of that business could be changed so that you benefit as much, if not more, from giving up the match, then you would be persuadable?’

‘
Bien sûr
, but how can that be? These things are always done with a marriage alliance; how else will we trust the word of an Englishman?’

James grinned, seeing his way at long last. ‘First, you must understand that icicles will form in Hell before I allow Jane to go to you. She’s mine.’ Montfleury looked as if he would argue that point but James forged on. ‘If you regard my marriage to Jane favourably, then I will do all in my power to further your business interests in England. In addition to my wife’s estates, my brother, the Earl of Dorset, has wool to trade and would be a key partner for you in the import of French wines to southern England, close to court, rather more lucrative than the northern realm your Wetherby controls. My brother is a particular friend of Lord Burghley and his son, so through him you have a connection to the Queen.

James was encouraged to see that Montfleury was giving his words serious thought, his man-of-pleasure air being replaced by that of a businessman.

‘Not to boast too much of my own influence,’ continued James, driving a further wedge into the gap his arguments had created, ‘I am on good terms with Ralegh and have just returned from a trip to America where some exciting opportunities for investors are about to open up. With Lady Jane and I as your friends, you would have a much better reach to the most powerful people in the land than if you settled for the partnership only with the Earl of Wetherby.’