Read Online The Dark Lady's Mask by Mary Sharratt - Free Book Online Page B

schoolroom as much as Aemilia did, loved steeping herself in the ancient writings of Greece and Rome.
    Master Wingfield was a tall and spindly young man of gentle birth but little fortune, as a third son, which explained why he had come to earn his bread as a schoolmaster. Under Lady Susan’s direction, he was giving Aemilia the identical grammar-school education that a boy would receive between the ages of seven and fourteen before he was sent off to university. Of course, no girl or woman could attend university, but some, such as Lady Susan and the Queen, continued their scholarly studies throughout their lives.
    John Wingfield taught Aemilia rhetoric, mathematics, French, cosmography, drawing, dancing, and continued her musical education even though he was not a virtuoso. But the heart of her studies were the classics of ancient Rome. He drilled her with English translations from the text and she replied from memory, quoting the Latin.
    â€œWe are not born, we do not live for ourselves alone,” Master Wingfield prompted. “Our country, our friends, have a share in us.”
    Aemilia trembled in both effort and quiet pride as she uttered Cicero’s original words from
De Officiis
, “
Non nobis solum nati sumus ortusque nostri partem patria vindicat, partem amici.
”
Amici,
friends, sounded so like her name, the English name Perry had given her. Amy.
    â€œIs anyone unaware that Fortune plays a major role in both success and failure?”
    â€œ
Magnam vim esse in fortuna in utramque partem, vel secundas ad res vel adversas, quis ignorat?
” She nearly sang, for she delighted so much in the words. Latin was the grandfather of the Italian language. Every syllable brought back Papa.
    â€œThe pagan Romans believed in Fortuna,” Lady Susan interjected. “But we Christians believe in Providence.”
    Aemilia nodded and folded her hands as Master Wingfield continued.
    â€œOf evils choose the least.”
    â€œ
Primum, minima de malis.” Malis,
malice.
    Â 
    L ESSONS IN THE SCHOOLROOM ended at three, at which time Susan deemed it appropriate that she and Aemilia ride out on horseback, equitation being one of the most wholesome forms of exercise.
    â€œEvery lady must learn to ride well,” Susan told her, as they walked arm in arm toward the stables. “Think of what my mother and Mistress Locke endured. One never knows when one must flee.”
    â€œMay Providence protect us,” Master Wingfield murmured, trailing just behind them.
    Perry and Mary de Vere were already mounted on fine Spanish coursers that gleamed in the sunlight, not a fleck of dirt on their white legs and oiled hooves. Lady Mary made a great show of riding aside on her saddle to show off her skirt trimmed in silver braid. She wore a hat with pheasant plumes set at a jaunty angle. But her perfect alabaster face soured at the sight of Aemilia and Master Wingfield.
    â€œYou said we would ride with your sister,” she told Perry. “Not play nursemaid to a child with a schoolmaster in tow.”
    Aemilia burned to hear Lady Mary speak as if she and Master Wingfield were deaf and had no feelings.
    â€œBut Amy
is
my sister!” said Perry. “My little adopted sister. And Master Wingfield her celebrated mentor. Have you gone blind yet from all that Latin, little sister?”
    Aemilia’s heart burst with affection for Perry, for his gentle humor that set everything right.
    â€œ
Exitus acta probat,
” she told him, quoting Ovid.
    Master Wingfield laughed aloud, her beloved schoolmaster whose smile made her float above the ground. Best of all, Lady Susan squeezed her hand and gave her a complicit smile. Aemilia knew that Susan had no great liking for Lady Mary either.
    â€œThe ends justify the means,” Lady Susan translated. “But I think you’ll find our Amy hasn’t gone blind just yet.”
    â€œAmy is our Hypatia,” Perry told his betrothed. “Our