The Stolen One (15 page)

A
month has passed and Anna, my sweet Wren, has left me. I woke up a week ago and found that she had simply vanished, taking nothing with her but Grace’s lute. Nicholas Pigeon made a few inquiries, as he never seemed to leave my side now, and found that she was staying with Lady Ludmore.

Things had become intolerable for Anna, for you see, after the outdoor feast the queen let it be known that Anna was not welcome. Dorothy explained that it was simply Anna’s beauty, and her beauty alone, that damned her. The queen must always be the shining sun, and if anything were to threaten her, she would strike it down.

Anna never left our chamber, and even when we journeyed to Whitehall, the queen’s favorite palace, she
would not come. When we returned, her pallor grew more sickly, her spells more frequent, till she hardly left the bed. I felt helpless to make her better, I did, caught between the two, my sister and the queen, who sought my companionship more now than ever.

One night Anna woke me, in delirium she was, insisting there was a ghost in the hall waiting for her. “It’s Grace,” she cried. “She wants me to join her.” But when I looked, shining a candle in the hall, it was Dorothy sneaking out to the rose garden again. “No, Anna,” I said. “There’s no ghost. It’s only Dorothy.”

“Promise me, Kat,” she had whispered. “Promise me you’ll not let Mama take me.” And then she had laughed bitterly. “She wants me, for she knows I’m the easiest of us to pull beneath the ground.”

“No, no, shhh. You’re talking nonsense.”

But nothing I said or did seemed to help—none of the herbs or potions I mixed for her, nor my soothing words. She had become impenetrable, lost to even me. The queen, upon hearing of my concern, sent her doctors, but they could do nothing for Anna. And then she disappeared, leaving me afright with worry. When Nicholas found she was at the Ludmores’, I inquired of her, and Lady Ludmore promised to send word when Anna had recovered.

Rafael had not spoken a word to me since the day of the outdoor entertainment. He had carried me to my chamber, I was told by Dorothy, and there was much talk, so worried he seemed to be. He had paced up and down the hallway, but when told I had come to, he took his leave. I’d seen him at court, in the arms of a blonde, a woman who Dorothy tells me is a hussy and who has made the rounds of the randy men. He’s hardly even looked at me again, and the one moment I did catch his eyes upon me they were so dark and empty, I looked away.

And as to what ailed me that day, I was sure as the sun sets that Ipollyta had tried to poison me, but when I shared my suspicion with Dorothy, she bade me not to say a word of it ever again. “Never make a scene, nor accusation, nor unkindly remark,” she advised me. “Those that heed these words stay the longest at court, and those that stay the longest rise the highest.”

Strangely Ipollyta seemed to retreat, letting me take her place as the queen’s pet, although I did perchance to see a sour look upon her face like a rat who’s been denied the larder cheese. And one day a small packet of needles arrived, beautiful fine needles, expertly sharpened, but I tossed them away. I knew from whence they came, poison arrows, I was sure, and who knew
what would become of me if I pricked myself?

I’d lost my appetite. Dorothy insisted that her John said it couldn’t have happened in the kitchen, as there were yeomen who watched every bit of food that was destined for the queen’s table. He said that the sweetmeat had gone rancid in the sun. I’d lost quite a bit of weight, but Nicholas said it suited me, more of a woman I looked now than a chubby child.

It was the end of September, still hot. Since Anna left, I’d spent my free afternoons in my room, the window propped open, stitching on the great gown for the queen. And although she teased me relentlessly about seeing it, I told her she would not until I’d stitched the last stitch, and only then. I’d finished the great lion and sewn the rubies into its eyes. He stared at me, fiery and knowing as I stitched the birds and other beasts with rich threads. And all the while the wolf lurked, waiting for my needle, and whenever I gazed upon it, I thought of my poor Anna. Finally I took some soap and tried to wipe it clean, but it remained like a whisper in the dark. Yes, Anna haunted me, in my thoughts and in my dreams.

The queen was going to raise up Robert Dudley to the peerage and make him an earl. Some said it was in
preparation for her finally marrying him. Others said it was merely to keep him at her side, for his eyes had begun to wander. And later after the ceremony, Nicholas was finally going to allow me to accompany him to the Queen’s Wardrobe to return the investiture robe the queen would wear that morning.

As I sat stitching and waiting for Nicholas, there was a soft tap on my chamber door. Anna! I put my stitching down and quickly opened the door. But nay, it was not her. Just a shy maid who peered up to me from under a low-brimmed maid’s cap.

“Do you remember me, miss?”

I did not. She watched me carefully, her eyes hooded, as though she was memorizing my features.

“Are you Dorothy Broadbelt’s maid?” I asked. Since Anna had left, my hair had returned to its former unruliness. Even the queen had noted it, for although she didn’t want anyone to outshine her, she didn’t want us looking like we have slept in the barn, either. Dorothy had promised her maid would come that morning and work her magic on it.

“No, ma’am, it’s Iris.” She nodded. “From the Tower.” She blinked like a shy goat.

Aaah, yes. It had been dark and she had been sitting by
the fire. And she had known of Mrs. Eglionby. “I have a letter from my mother,” Iris continued. “Sorry, miss, but my mother doesn’t write, nor I. We both had to seek assistance.”

My heart began to beat. She held the letter out and it was a good long moment before I took it. But took it I did, grasping it in my hands. I fetched a small coin for her.

“Thank you.” She bowed and retreated, looking me over once more, before turning and running down the hall.

I turned the letter over. I ripped it open.

I ran for the door. I opened it. Nicholas was standing there before me.

“Is everything all right?” he asked as I looked past him up and down the hall. “I rather do like your hair free like that, my country lass.”

I discreetly folded the letter behind me.

Dorothy had said once to watch the queen carefully; one could learn everything there was to know about handling men. For in the end, she was always the master in such things great and small.

“She’s only giving him a peerage so Queen Mary will think more of him,” Katherine Knevit whispered behind me, and Mary Shelton shushed her. Whatever the reason, Robert Dudley was very dignified and proud as he walked around the presence chamber talking with the
dignitaries and ambassadors who had gathered for the event. Everyone was richly attired—the councilors in robes and velvets, cloaked courtiers in their finest silks, extra feathers in their caps, doubly thick gold chains upon their necks, the ladies in their most glimmering gowns and costly jewels.

As I strolled about the room with Nicholas, who was neglecting his clerkly duties as usual, I discreetly searched for Rafael. Finally I spotted him, this time a brunette woman by his side. He caught my eye and nodded, but his attention quickly returned to his lady. Chin in the air, I turned to Nicholas. I chatted and giggled and brushed his arm with my fan, just as I had seen the queen do many a time with her courtiers.

The queen sat in a large red damask chair over which hung a crimson velvet canopy and a carved and gilded coat of arms. Sir Melville was by her side, her ladies talking amongst themselves nearby. The queen wore full ceremonial robes of damask silk and a great golden crown with jewels as large as walnuts that shimmered across the room like colorful moonbeams. Her face radiated complete happiness.

The queen’s eyes alit on me. “Come here, my Spirit,” she called. Nicholas slinked behind a courtier and
slipped from the room. “So we’ve moved from the rose garden into the Wardrobe, have we?” She laughed as I approached her, a puzzled look on my face. “Aaah…I know everything, dear Kat, but he doesn’t have to slink off like a naughty dog caught with the kitchen roast. Perhaps I would approve of the match.”

I bit my lip. I was not thinking of him right now. My eyes darted to Rafael.

“Oh, I see.” The queen laughed. “Is that how it is. Where has
he
been, by the way? I’m very offended he’s been absent from court.”

Her eyes narrowed on the woman. “Lady Marion Huckabee. I can have her banished to the country if you like.”

I turned to her. “Nay. I don’t know….”

“Just as Blanche once said,” the queen mused, “you don’t know your own heart. But does anyone? She shall be gone tomorrow. She should be by her own husband anyway. He’s an invalid, never leaves their estate. My guess, my dear, is that you could have your Spaniard in a fortnight if that was your wish.”

“Do you think so?” I asked her. “He’s ignored me for weeks.”

The queen let out a hearty laugh. “My dear, you have much to learn in the affairs of men. Much to
learn. He’s biding his time, as you must too.”

“My maid Anna has joined Lord Ludmore’s household,” I said quietly.

“This I know,” the queen snapped. “She was not made for court life, maid or not. I’m sure Lady Ludmore will have her converted before you know it and she will forget you.” She turned her head. The subject was closed.

But I could not help myself. “She means much to me, Your Majesty, for we were raised together.”

Her face softened. “Well, my Spirit,” she said. “Is that perhaps why you’ve been so forlorn of late? Until this very moment I thought perhaps you were mooning over your poor shepherd.”

“No, no,” I said all in a rush. “Not
him
.” The last words squeaked out of my mouth like a stepped-upon flitter mouse.

“I see.” She walked away, a sly smile on her face.

“What did the queen say?” asked Nicholas, who had joined my side again after the ceremony was over. “Does she know of us? Tell me, does she approve?” I glanced around for Rafael, and saw him as he left the chamber with Lady Huckabee.

“I must say, she did not approve,” I said. “You shall have to
set your sights on someone else. Ipollyta is free, I think.”

“Don’t tease me so. I think perhaps I’ll die of a broken heart,” he said, holding his hand over his chest. “You do know I care for you ardently, I do,” he said.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Yes, Nicholas, I do know.” The crowd started to disperse and I followed the queen’s ladies, who followed her out of the presence chamber and down a long hallway.

But before I knew it, Nicholas had pulled me into a curtained alcove and his lips were on mine. God’s me, but I let him kiss me.

He started to reach for my bodice and I pushed away and looked at his beautiful face. How could I not love this? “I think perhaps you could learn to love me,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I do love you; I have from the first minute I set eyes upon you.”

And this made me wonder, why did he want
me
so much, when all the maids swooned at his sight and talked of him endlessly? Why did he want me?

I touched his cheek briefly before running after the last of the queen’s ladies into the privy chamber.

The queen once told me that a woman’s intuition always tells her the truth, but only if she will listen. After the
ceremony something had tickled up my back until the hairs on my arms stood tall. Something was going to happen. If I’d gone back to my chamber, perhaps, perhaps, everything that transpired that day would not have unwound itself like a spool dropped down Cowslip Hill. But I didn’t listen to my intuition. Aye, I did not.

As I entered the privy chamber I saw that several of the maids, including Dorothy, stood at the window giggling and pointing at something outside. It was pouring down rain, and for the life of me I couldn’t imagine what they could see in the rain that amused them so. But my attention was quickly drawn to the queen, who for some reason had decided to bring Sir Melville to her private rooms.

The senior ladies of the privy chamber were removing the queen’s outer robe. Mrs. Ashley carried it carefully to the doorway, where a yeoman of the Wardrobe waited. This was my opportunity to accompany Nicholas back to the Queen’s Wardrobe. In fact, he probably waited just outside the door for me. But I was tired of his pressing his case, aye, I was, and something kept me rooted to the exact spot I had walked to upon entering. Like a fairy-turned-statue I stood, the hair on my arms standing at attention. Still, yet, the maids giggled on.

Sir Melville, embarrassed to be in the chamber, it seemed, busied himself by walking about the room examining trinkets here and there. He came upon a carved cabinet where the queen kept her precious keepsakes. It was usually locked tight. It was Blanche Parry’s job to attend to it, but today the doors stood open, like shutters thrown wide on the first warm day of spring.

“Spirit,” the queen called. “You are very flushed. Come sit down, I bade you.”

I didn’t move. I watched Sir Melville take something wrapped in tissue from the cabinet. “‘Eyes,’” he read aloud dramatically. He unwrapped the tissue and turned over a small miniature in his hands. The queen was at his side in a second, plucking it from his grasp. Then she snatched the tissue and quickly wrapped the portrait back up.