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Authors: Laura Andersen
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thought of Alyce, her friend whose untimely death had begun the unraveling of Norfolk’s treason, and of how scarcely anyone even remembered her. The thought that her friend had been a casualty of a mere game made her sick.
“I’m saying that these sorts of maneuvers are still well beyond you, Minuette. Go back to court, serve your princess, and keep your head down. I will find out who defamed your mother’s name. You can trust me for that.”
She did—though she couldn’t swear that his intent was to bring the perpetrator to the king’s justice. He looked rather as though he would kill the person himself. For the first time, she realized that there were aspects of her stepfather that reminded her of Dominic.
“I will promise,” she replied. “On one condition—I want to know who was behind it all. Not just for my mother’s sake. There was a woman, my friend … Her name was Alyce de Clare and she died at the beginning of all this. Alyce was part of it and in over her head, and she …” It seemed wrong to tell him all of it, though most of the court had known. Known, and now forgotten.
“She what?”
“She was with child when she died. The child’s father was almost certain to have been part of the whole conspiracy. I thought it was Giles, after you told me he’d lied about being home in March of 1553.”
“He was quarantined with the pox that month.”
“Well yes, I know that now. If you’d bothered to be specific when I asked about his whereabouts before, I might have saved a good deal of time. But what matters is that whoever fathered Alyce de Clare’s child is still unknown. If you really think this was a feint, a double-dealing method of tainting your family, that man could be the key to discovery.”
“Yes, he could. Very good, Minuette.”
“I have a list of names I was going through, I could send them to you.”
“That would be useful. But that is the end of it, do you hearme? No more games for you. Remember that the next time Rochford comes calling. You stay out of this.”
Oh yes, she thought wryly. Definitely like Dominic. Although Stephen Howard didn’t know her as well, so she was able to lie much more easily.
“I’ll stay out of it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“H APPY ?” R OBERT murmured.
Elizabeth twitched as his breath caressed her cheek. “You’re distracting me,” she protested, her fingers moving smoothly across the strings of her lute. Happy, yes; but also suspicious. Robert had been more than attentive this winter. He had been ever on hand, and for once neither her brother nor her uncle had made any comment on it.
William’s lack of observance was easy enough to understand—he had eyes only for Minuette. And people were beginning to whisper.
Including Robert. He leaned back and stretched his legs out as he asked, casually enough, “So what do you think of your brother’s French betrothal?”
She didn’t believe in that casualness. With a quick frown, she stopped playing and laid the lute aside. Before answering, she scanned her presence chamber to ensure no one was paying more than the usual attention to her. Her ladies knew to give her space when Robert was with her.
It would have been easy to parry the question back to him, but she didn’t bother. Wasn’t that the point of Robert, that he wassomeone she didn’t have to always guard against? “I think that I feel rather sorry for the child. I hear that Elisabeth de France is quite taken with my brother. She spends her time practicing her English and learning our history so that she might do him proud.”
“Isn’t that admirable in a girl who will one day be England’s queen?”
“She’s nine years old, Robert! She should be studying for herself, not to impress a man she’s met only once.”
“Not everyone loves learning for its own sake. Not every princess is you. And most men would be delighted with a wife who thinks only of pleasing them.”
“Most men don’t deserve such a wife.”
He
“I’m saying that these sorts of maneuvers are still well beyond you, Minuette. Go back to court, serve your princess, and keep your head down. I will find out who defamed your mother’s name. You can trust me for that.”
She did—though she couldn’t swear that his intent was to bring the perpetrator to the king’s justice. He looked rather as though he would kill the person himself. For the first time, she realized that there were aspects of her stepfather that reminded her of Dominic.
“I will promise,” she replied. “On one condition—I want to know who was behind it all. Not just for my mother’s sake. There was a woman, my friend … Her name was Alyce de Clare and she died at the beginning of all this. Alyce was part of it and in over her head, and she …” It seemed wrong to tell him all of it, though most of the court had known. Known, and now forgotten.
“She what?”
“She was with child when she died. The child’s father was almost certain to have been part of the whole conspiracy. I thought it was Giles, after you told me he’d lied about being home in March of 1553.”
“He was quarantined with the pox that month.”
“Well yes, I know that now. If you’d bothered to be specific when I asked about his whereabouts before, I might have saved a good deal of time. But what matters is that whoever fathered Alyce de Clare’s child is still unknown. If you really think this was a feint, a double-dealing method of tainting your family, that man could be the key to discovery.”
“Yes, he could. Very good, Minuette.”
“I have a list of names I was going through, I could send them to you.”
“That would be useful. But that is the end of it, do you hearme? No more games for you. Remember that the next time Rochford comes calling. You stay out of this.”
Oh yes, she thought wryly. Definitely like Dominic. Although Stephen Howard didn’t know her as well, so she was able to lie much more easily.
“I’ll stay out of it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“H APPY ?” R OBERT murmured.
Elizabeth twitched as his breath caressed her cheek. “You’re distracting me,” she protested, her fingers moving smoothly across the strings of her lute. Happy, yes; but also suspicious. Robert had been more than attentive this winter. He had been ever on hand, and for once neither her brother nor her uncle had made any comment on it.
William’s lack of observance was easy enough to understand—he had eyes only for Minuette. And people were beginning to whisper.
Including Robert. He leaned back and stretched his legs out as he asked, casually enough, “So what do you think of your brother’s French betrothal?”
She didn’t believe in that casualness. With a quick frown, she stopped playing and laid the lute aside. Before answering, she scanned her presence chamber to ensure no one was paying more than the usual attention to her. Her ladies knew to give her space when Robert was with her.
It would have been easy to parry the question back to him, but she didn’t bother. Wasn’t that the point of Robert, that he wassomeone she didn’t have to always guard against? “I think that I feel rather sorry for the child. I hear that Elisabeth de France is quite taken with my brother. She spends her time practicing her English and learning our history so that she might do him proud.”
“Isn’t that admirable in a girl who will one day be England’s queen?”
“She’s nine years old, Robert! She should be studying for herself, not to impress a man she’s met only once.”
“Not everyone loves learning for its own sake. Not every princess is you. And most men would be delighted with a wife who thinks only of pleasing them.”
“Most men don’t deserve such a wife.”
He
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