belated curse that she had, in fact, brought me around the hall to the other side. Now I stood closer than before to the royal dais, the company of nobles, and the princess.
I sought to make myself small. Close up, they were an intimidating group: privileged and glossy, with the air of unassailable primacy that characterized the nobility. Elizabeth had left Jane Grey and sat, bemused, listening to the person opposite her. All I could see of this person was a gross, ringed hand clutching a cane.
I began to sidle backward, wary as a cat, praying the princess would not catch sight of me. All I needed was for her to single me out and cast the remainder of my already doubtful future into ruin.
So intent was I on my retreat that I almost failed to see the person bearing down upon me. When I did, I froze in my tracks.
It was Lady Dudley, Duchess of Northumberland.
The sight of her was like cold water flung in my face. Lady Dudley, Lord Robert’s mother. Could it get any worse? Of all the people I might have come across, why her? In her world, lackeys always knew their proper place. And mine was certainly not lurking in this hall.
She was like marble, her austere beauty enhanced by an exquisite garnet velvet gown. As I stood there, paralyzed to my spot, I was plunged back to a day, years ago, when she’d come upon me smuggling a book out of the Dudley Castle library.
I’d turned thirteen and was grief-stricken over the sudden loss of Mistress Alice. The book was one of French psalms, a favorite of Alice’s, bound in calfskin, with a French dedication on its frontispiece: A mon amie de votre amie, Marie.
Lady Dudley had taken it from my hands, told me to remove myself to the stables. An hour later, Master Shelton arrived with a whip. He had been in the Dudley service less than a year; he scarcely knew me and thus delivered the punishing strokes uncertainly, causing more humiliation than pain. But until Lady Dudley departed for court, I never went near the library again. Even after she left, it took weeks before the books lured me back, and I only went at night, returning each book to its shelf the moment I was done with it, as if she might somehow spy my transgression from afar.
As for the volume of psalms, it was the only thing that didn’t belong to me that I’d taken when I left the castle. I wrapped it in cloth and hid it in my saddlebag. I could not leave it behind.
Caustic laughter came from the person in the chair opposite Elizabeth, jolting me to attention. Lady Dudley hadn’t seen me yet. Left with no other alternative, I started to inch my way toward the group, sweat soaking me under my doublet. I was so focused on evading Lady Dudley’s notice, I didn’t watch where I was going until I’d stumbled against Jane Grey’s chair.
She shifted about, startled. In her gray-blue eyes, I glimpsed haunting resignation. Then she tensed her thin shoulders. In a tremulous voice she said, “Who are you?”
I felt my entire existence come crashing down around me.
At her side Guilford exclaimed, “What, you again!” He sprang to his feet, an accusatory finger pointed at me. “Prescott, you intrude on your betters.”
I had made a fine mess of things. I should never have come so close. I should never have followed that girl. Come to think of it, I should have just stayed put in Worcestershire.
“Prescott?” Jane Grey looked at Guilford in confusion. “You know him?”
“Yes, and he’s supposed to be serving my brother Robert,” Guilford snarled. “Prescott, you’d best have a reason for this.”
I opened my mouth. No sound came out. Jane Grey was staring at me. In a jerking motion, I removed my cap and bowed. “My lady, please forgive me if I have disturbed you.”
Glancing up through the tangle of hair falling across my eyes, I saw faint color blotch her cheeks. “You look familiar,” she said, her voice halting, hesitant. “Have we met before?”
“I don’t believe so, my lady,” I said
I sought to make myself small. Close up, they were an intimidating group: privileged and glossy, with the air of unassailable primacy that characterized the nobility. Elizabeth had left Jane Grey and sat, bemused, listening to the person opposite her. All I could see of this person was a gross, ringed hand clutching a cane.
I began to sidle backward, wary as a cat, praying the princess would not catch sight of me. All I needed was for her to single me out and cast the remainder of my already doubtful future into ruin.
So intent was I on my retreat that I almost failed to see the person bearing down upon me. When I did, I froze in my tracks.
It was Lady Dudley, Duchess of Northumberland.
The sight of her was like cold water flung in my face. Lady Dudley, Lord Robert’s mother. Could it get any worse? Of all the people I might have come across, why her? In her world, lackeys always knew their proper place. And mine was certainly not lurking in this hall.
She was like marble, her austere beauty enhanced by an exquisite garnet velvet gown. As I stood there, paralyzed to my spot, I was plunged back to a day, years ago, when she’d come upon me smuggling a book out of the Dudley Castle library.
I’d turned thirteen and was grief-stricken over the sudden loss of Mistress Alice. The book was one of French psalms, a favorite of Alice’s, bound in calfskin, with a French dedication on its frontispiece: A mon amie de votre amie, Marie.
Lady Dudley had taken it from my hands, told me to remove myself to the stables. An hour later, Master Shelton arrived with a whip. He had been in the Dudley service less than a year; he scarcely knew me and thus delivered the punishing strokes uncertainly, causing more humiliation than pain. But until Lady Dudley departed for court, I never went near the library again. Even after she left, it took weeks before the books lured me back, and I only went at night, returning each book to its shelf the moment I was done with it, as if she might somehow spy my transgression from afar.
As for the volume of psalms, it was the only thing that didn’t belong to me that I’d taken when I left the castle. I wrapped it in cloth and hid it in my saddlebag. I could not leave it behind.
Caustic laughter came from the person in the chair opposite Elizabeth, jolting me to attention. Lady Dudley hadn’t seen me yet. Left with no other alternative, I started to inch my way toward the group, sweat soaking me under my doublet. I was so focused on evading Lady Dudley’s notice, I didn’t watch where I was going until I’d stumbled against Jane Grey’s chair.
She shifted about, startled. In her gray-blue eyes, I glimpsed haunting resignation. Then she tensed her thin shoulders. In a tremulous voice she said, “Who are you?”
I felt my entire existence come crashing down around me.
At her side Guilford exclaimed, “What, you again!” He sprang to his feet, an accusatory finger pointed at me. “Prescott, you intrude on your betters.”
I had made a fine mess of things. I should never have come so close. I should never have followed that girl. Come to think of it, I should have just stayed put in Worcestershire.
“Prescott?” Jane Grey looked at Guilford in confusion. “You know him?”
“Yes, and he’s supposed to be serving my brother Robert,” Guilford snarled. “Prescott, you’d best have a reason for this.”
I opened my mouth. No sound came out. Jane Grey was staring at me. In a jerking motion, I removed my cap and bowed. “My lady, please forgive me if I have disturbed you.”
Glancing up through the tangle of hair falling across my eyes, I saw faint color blotch her cheeks. “You look familiar,” she said, her voice halting, hesitant. “Have we met before?”
“I don’t believe so, my lady,” I said
Similar Books
