not a poesy ring in interlocking bands each inscribed with a motto of love, ‘
I am yours, you my choice
. . .’ Let it not be that. Gingerly she placed her hand on the lid and made a wish as she closed her eyes – not a portrait in miniature to be worn on a sash. (How romantically could Master Gilbert be painted, with his bald head and waxbill nose?) The gentleman was watching, so was her father. Ellyn breathed deeply, conscious that she had to be guarded. She steeled herself, opened the lid, looked down, and smiled.
‘A carcanet. How delightful!’
The choker Ellyn removed was made of enamelled gold flowers supporting a pendant of pearls cleverly fashioned in a gold setting. The pearls and the surround made the form of a lamb; it was really quite exquisite. Ellyn hooked the chain round her neck, suspecting that her mother must have known about the gift all along, since her partlet and high collar left her throat wholly exposed.
Master Gilbert turned to her father.
‘Does she like it much?’
Ellyn shivered with distaste. One of the gentleman’s most irritating habits was that of addressing her indirectly as if she was an object incapable of speech. But her father beamed approvingly.
‘Assuredly, Godfrey, though blessed if I thought she could be made prettier. Yet you have done it.’ Her father clapped his guest on the shoulder and raised his glass. ‘A toast to that!’
Ellyn watched them both from across the table.
Master Gilbert narrowed his eyes as he faced her, drawing in his chin to give a ferret-like prominence to the length of his nose.
‘The fairest maid?’ he suggested.
‘A maid nonpareil!’ roared her father.
Ellyn was left with the impression that the fortified wine the physician had prescribed for his gout was having too beneficial an effect on his choler. She worried about him less and smiled more.
‘I thank you.’ She looked at Master Gilbert and wondered what he and her father had been discussing. If their plans involved her, then she preferred to know. She decided to try a little probing. ‘I hope your business ventures will be successful.’
He responded with a laugh.
‘You speak of ventures lightly, as though the outcome might never affect you. But I can tell you, my dear—’ he looked pointedly at Ellyn ‘—that your father and I have been considering an enterprise that may well concern you as much as it does us.’
Ellyn tried not to frown.
‘Truly,’ her father joined in, then turned to his guest and murmured, ‘I think we may disclose this, Godfrey.’ His eyes twinkled in Ellyn’s direction. ‘If this enterprise yields even half the return of the last, there will be a
date to be fixed
, one that
you
may look forward to.’
Master Gilbert fiddled with his glass. Her father stifled a belch, and Ellyn’s hopes plummeted further. She was sure the ‘date to be fixed’ must be that of a wedding, but what was the enterprise that her father expected to be profitable? Suddenly a disturbing possibility occurred to her – perhaps it involved Francis Drake’s next voyage. It could do. Will had told her he had dined with her father, and Nan had said that Will had been seen on Drake’s ship. She thought quickly.
‘I wonder whether this enterprise might concern a ship called the
Swan
?’
The response was clear astonishment. Her father slapped his thigh and chuckled loudly.
‘By my faith! However did you arrive at that?!’ He entered a muttered exchange that Ellyn had no difficulty in hearing. ‘I swear, Godfrey, I have not breathed a word to anyone. Have you been putting ideas into her head?’
The coolness of Master Gilbert’s answer did not escape Ellyn’s attention.
‘I would never discuss business with a woman.’ He looked towards her and offered a buck-toothed leer. ‘But she is, perhaps, rightly curious, and the sailing of the
Swan
hardly secret. I have no objection to her being apprised of the essentials.’
Her father raised his glass
I am yours, you my choice
. . .’ Let it not be that. Gingerly she placed her hand on the lid and made a wish as she closed her eyes – not a portrait in miniature to be worn on a sash. (How romantically could Master Gilbert be painted, with his bald head and waxbill nose?) The gentleman was watching, so was her father. Ellyn breathed deeply, conscious that she had to be guarded. She steeled herself, opened the lid, looked down, and smiled.
‘A carcanet. How delightful!’
The choker Ellyn removed was made of enamelled gold flowers supporting a pendant of pearls cleverly fashioned in a gold setting. The pearls and the surround made the form of a lamb; it was really quite exquisite. Ellyn hooked the chain round her neck, suspecting that her mother must have known about the gift all along, since her partlet and high collar left her throat wholly exposed.
Master Gilbert turned to her father.
‘Does she like it much?’
Ellyn shivered with distaste. One of the gentleman’s most irritating habits was that of addressing her indirectly as if she was an object incapable of speech. But her father beamed approvingly.
‘Assuredly, Godfrey, though blessed if I thought she could be made prettier. Yet you have done it.’ Her father clapped his guest on the shoulder and raised his glass. ‘A toast to that!’
Ellyn watched them both from across the table.
Master Gilbert narrowed his eyes as he faced her, drawing in his chin to give a ferret-like prominence to the length of his nose.
‘The fairest maid?’ he suggested.
‘A maid nonpareil!’ roared her father.
Ellyn was left with the impression that the fortified wine the physician had prescribed for his gout was having too beneficial an effect on his choler. She worried about him less and smiled more.
‘I thank you.’ She looked at Master Gilbert and wondered what he and her father had been discussing. If their plans involved her, then she preferred to know. She decided to try a little probing. ‘I hope your business ventures will be successful.’
He responded with a laugh.
‘You speak of ventures lightly, as though the outcome might never affect you. But I can tell you, my dear—’ he looked pointedly at Ellyn ‘—that your father and I have been considering an enterprise that may well concern you as much as it does us.’
Ellyn tried not to frown.
‘Truly,’ her father joined in, then turned to his guest and murmured, ‘I think we may disclose this, Godfrey.’ His eyes twinkled in Ellyn’s direction. ‘If this enterprise yields even half the return of the last, there will be a
date to be fixed
, one that
you
may look forward to.’
Master Gilbert fiddled with his glass. Her father stifled a belch, and Ellyn’s hopes plummeted further. She was sure the ‘date to be fixed’ must be that of a wedding, but what was the enterprise that her father expected to be profitable? Suddenly a disturbing possibility occurred to her – perhaps it involved Francis Drake’s next voyage. It could do. Will had told her he had dined with her father, and Nan had said that Will had been seen on Drake’s ship. She thought quickly.
‘I wonder whether this enterprise might concern a ship called the
Swan
?’
The response was clear astonishment. Her father slapped his thigh and chuckled loudly.
‘By my faith! However did you arrive at that?!’ He entered a muttered exchange that Ellyn had no difficulty in hearing. ‘I swear, Godfrey, I have not breathed a word to anyone. Have you been putting ideas into her head?’
The coolness of Master Gilbert’s answer did not escape Ellyn’s attention.
‘I would never discuss business with a woman.’ He looked towards her and offered a buck-toothed leer. ‘But she is, perhaps, rightly curious, and the sailing of the
Swan
hardly secret. I have no objection to her being apprised of the essentials.’
Her father raised his glass
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