I’ll always be in your debt.”
“Did you think I lied? How could you be so foolish?” Gracen flinched, but Alice was past caring. “What if Edward hadn’t seen you? Do you realize you might now be—”
Gracen put her hands to her ears. “Don’t say it!”
“What did you call them? My friends? Only one is that, and even he isn’t completely trustworthy. Being a maid of honor isn’t a talisman against harm, Gracen.”
“I shouldn’t have gone. It was my vanity. I’m sorry, Alice.”
“We have to go to Brownie.”
That was their pet name for the mother of the maids, the woman responsible for the safety and reputation of Queen Catherine’s maids of honor.
“No! No, Alice. Let’s just see if everyone is still asleep. If everyone is still asleep, no one has to know. Please, Alice. What will I tell her? I can’t think. You have to help me.”
Gracen had begun to cry again, and Alice could see she was on the edge of hysteria. She turned and began to walk up the stairs. After a moment, Gracen followed.
The door to Brownie’s chamber was ajar. Was an alarm already raised? Please not. Please let there be time to tell a suitable lie and get this over with. Alice put her head into the chamber. Brownie sat with one of the queen’s household, he who was master of the queen’s horse, an important position. Their heads were together, their expressions serious. Alice knocked at the door, stepped inside, wadding her mask, a telltale sign she had been up to no good, in her hand.
“Lord Knollys,” she said to the queen’s master of the horse. She walked forward, her eyes on Brownie. “Oh, Brownie, the most terrible thing has happened, and it is all my fault. Gracen and I were playing cards and sneaking wine, and we fell asleep. We just woke, and we’ve walked across the bailey with my groom, and Gracen is sobbing like a child, she is so afraid.” Alice looked behind her, pulled Gracen forward. She was indeed sobbing. “It’s all my fault, but Poll was with us the whole time, I swear it, and Poppy is waiting for me below, and I’m in trouble myself. I have to go, Brownie. Please don’t be too angry—” And then she was out the door, on its other side, shutting it, leaving Gracen to get through on her wits. She retied her mask, ran down the stairs to the Life Guard.
“Will you escort me back?” she asked. At the keep, she gave him a coin. “For your silence,” she said. “My friend and I have been foolish.” He winked. Alice walked up the great entrance stairs. There was a crowd milling, and the Dragon, her French keeper of the maids, shawl over a nightgown, was among them. Her groom, Poppy, appeared out of nowhere, and she and he exchanged a look. He nodded, as if to say, All right, then.
“Where have you been?” The Dragon breathed fire on her, furious to have been waked, even more furious not to have found her in her bed. She didn’t like Alice to begin with.
“With my father,” Alice said coldly. “My groom escorted me. Surely I have a right to visit my father.” She saw John Sidney standing against the wall and walked over to him. “Tell me.”
“Seven priests, the French ambassador, King Charles’s lord chamberlain, and the Duke of York are on the other side of that door,” he said. “Is she—”
“Fine.” Alice put out her hand to shake his. “Thank you, Mister Sidney. Where’s Lieutenant Saylor?”
“Inside with them.”
“And Edward?”
“There, too.”
The Dragon was bearing down on her. She followed the woman to where Princesse Henriette’s maids of honor were sleeping, listening to a lecture on how she must always let the Dragon know if she left the sleeping room, that if this was the way all young Englishwomen behaved, well, it was a pity and a sin, young women who misbehaved in France found themselves behind convent walls, yes, they did. Alice pulled off her clothes, dropped into bed beside Renée, who didn’t move, and closed her eyes. It seemed they
“Did you think I lied? How could you be so foolish?” Gracen flinched, but Alice was past caring. “What if Edward hadn’t seen you? Do you realize you might now be—”
Gracen put her hands to her ears. “Don’t say it!”
“What did you call them? My friends? Only one is that, and even he isn’t completely trustworthy. Being a maid of honor isn’t a talisman against harm, Gracen.”
“I shouldn’t have gone. It was my vanity. I’m sorry, Alice.”
“We have to go to Brownie.”
That was their pet name for the mother of the maids, the woman responsible for the safety and reputation of Queen Catherine’s maids of honor.
“No! No, Alice. Let’s just see if everyone is still asleep. If everyone is still asleep, no one has to know. Please, Alice. What will I tell her? I can’t think. You have to help me.”
Gracen had begun to cry again, and Alice could see she was on the edge of hysteria. She turned and began to walk up the stairs. After a moment, Gracen followed.
The door to Brownie’s chamber was ajar. Was an alarm already raised? Please not. Please let there be time to tell a suitable lie and get this over with. Alice put her head into the chamber. Brownie sat with one of the queen’s household, he who was master of the queen’s horse, an important position. Their heads were together, their expressions serious. Alice knocked at the door, stepped inside, wadding her mask, a telltale sign she had been up to no good, in her hand.
“Lord Knollys,” she said to the queen’s master of the horse. She walked forward, her eyes on Brownie. “Oh, Brownie, the most terrible thing has happened, and it is all my fault. Gracen and I were playing cards and sneaking wine, and we fell asleep. We just woke, and we’ve walked across the bailey with my groom, and Gracen is sobbing like a child, she is so afraid.” Alice looked behind her, pulled Gracen forward. She was indeed sobbing. “It’s all my fault, but Poll was with us the whole time, I swear it, and Poppy is waiting for me below, and I’m in trouble myself. I have to go, Brownie. Please don’t be too angry—” And then she was out the door, on its other side, shutting it, leaving Gracen to get through on her wits. She retied her mask, ran down the stairs to the Life Guard.
“Will you escort me back?” she asked. At the keep, she gave him a coin. “For your silence,” she said. “My friend and I have been foolish.” He winked. Alice walked up the great entrance stairs. There was a crowd milling, and the Dragon, her French keeper of the maids, shawl over a nightgown, was among them. Her groom, Poppy, appeared out of nowhere, and she and he exchanged a look. He nodded, as if to say, All right, then.
“Where have you been?” The Dragon breathed fire on her, furious to have been waked, even more furious not to have found her in her bed. She didn’t like Alice to begin with.
“With my father,” Alice said coldly. “My groom escorted me. Surely I have a right to visit my father.” She saw John Sidney standing against the wall and walked over to him. “Tell me.”
“Seven priests, the French ambassador, King Charles’s lord chamberlain, and the Duke of York are on the other side of that door,” he said. “Is she—”
“Fine.” Alice put out her hand to shake his. “Thank you, Mister Sidney. Where’s Lieutenant Saylor?”
“Inside with them.”
“And Edward?”
“There, too.”
The Dragon was bearing down on her. She followed the woman to where Princesse Henriette’s maids of honor were sleeping, listening to a lecture on how she must always let the Dragon know if she left the sleeping room, that if this was the way all young Englishwomen behaved, well, it was a pity and a sin, young women who misbehaved in France found themselves behind convent walls, yes, they did. Alice pulled off her clothes, dropped into bed beside Renée, who didn’t move, and closed her eyes. It seemed they
Similar Books
