body.’ Ned stroked her hair, kissed her forehead. ‘Why does it worry you so?’
‘I – ’ Mary looked confused.
Immediately suspicious, Ned grabbed her shoulders. ‘What was between you?’
‘Nothing! For the love of God, Ned, I am fearful because if he was murdered, whoever did it might be in the castle. And I am in the castle. And when you leave, I’ve no one to protect me. No one to run to if I’m frightened.’
Ned pulled her to him, hugged her hard. ‘You have nothing to fear, Mary. You are in the King’s court, under Mistress Alice’s protection. You will be quite safe.’
Alice Perrers returned from an exhausting morning with the ailing Queen to find her bed unmade, her chamber not yet aired.
The elegant Mistresses Cecily and Isabeau sat near the window using the daylight for their embroidery.
‘Where is Mary?’ Alice demanded of them.
Mistress Cecily rolled her eyes. ‘Whimpering on her bed … my lady.’ Cecily always paused on the last two words. It rankled her to serve Alice, who was of lesser birth than she. But as the King’s mistress, mother of his bastard son, Alice must be treated with respect. It was the King himself who had insisted on Alice’s serving women calling her ‘lady’.
‘On her bed? At midday?’
Cecily and Isabeau dropped their eyes to their embroidery, tittering at poor Mary’s misfortune. Their needles did not move. Alice had no doubt they had sat there all the while in their elegant silk gowns and gossiped.
‘Mary is worth ten of you, you lazy ornaments!’ Alice hissed as she left the room. What had Queen Phillippa been thinking when she’d asked Alice to take them into her chambers?
Mary was different. She had been Alice’s choice, an orphan like herself, only two years younger. Alice trusted Mary, understood her lot in life. Ned Townley had upset the balance. He had been warned to stay away, but the damnable man had kept returning, swearing his undying love, turning Mary’s pretty head.
Well, if one considered a handsome man with pretty speech an ideal knight, Ned was that, and more. Lancaster would never have trained him as a spy if he were not brave and cunning. But he was a nobody. And would ever be a nobody. His sort never acquired property. Never advanced in rank beyond captain. Already it was plain that what little money Ned made he squandered on clothes. It was true he had an eye for colour and fabric, but clothes did not appreciate in value. Mary deserved better. Mary required better.
Alice found Mary sitting in a dark, airless room. She threw open the shutters. ‘For pity’s sake, Mary, how can you breathe?’
Mary blinked, then held her hands before her eyes to shield them from the sudden light. ‘Forgive me, mistress.’
Alice knelt down, lifted Mary’s face towards the light, pushing her hair back from her face. ‘
Mon Dieu
, what a pitiful sight!’ Mary’s lovely face was swollen and red, her eyes bloodshot. ‘Enough of this, Mary! I will stand no more. You must put your knife-thrower out of your mind. I have plans for you.’
Mary twisted out of Alice’s grasp. ‘I shall wed no one but Ned.’
Alice sat back on her heels. ‘You little fool. You do not understand your fortune. I know what it is to be an orphan. I know the uncertainty.’ Her parents had died of the plague the year Alice was born. Until her uncles had devised the plan to educate her and call in favours to establish her at court, she had been brought up by a merchant and his wife, whose own children oft reminded Alice of her temporary status in their home. Alice knew all about uncertainty. She took Mary’s hands in hers. Cold hands. The child was not eating. ‘Trust me, Mary. I want what is best for you. And I can give it to you.’
‘Then help me be with Ned. He loves me and I love him, Mistress Alice. He will take care of me.’
Alice dropped Mary’s hands, rose. ‘For pity’s sake,
think
, Mary. He has no money but that given him by Lancaster. No
‘I – ’ Mary looked confused.
Immediately suspicious, Ned grabbed her shoulders. ‘What was between you?’
‘Nothing! For the love of God, Ned, I am fearful because if he was murdered, whoever did it might be in the castle. And I am in the castle. And when you leave, I’ve no one to protect me. No one to run to if I’m frightened.’
Ned pulled her to him, hugged her hard. ‘You have nothing to fear, Mary. You are in the King’s court, under Mistress Alice’s protection. You will be quite safe.’
Alice Perrers returned from an exhausting morning with the ailing Queen to find her bed unmade, her chamber not yet aired.
The elegant Mistresses Cecily and Isabeau sat near the window using the daylight for their embroidery.
‘Where is Mary?’ Alice demanded of them.
Mistress Cecily rolled her eyes. ‘Whimpering on her bed … my lady.’ Cecily always paused on the last two words. It rankled her to serve Alice, who was of lesser birth than she. But as the King’s mistress, mother of his bastard son, Alice must be treated with respect. It was the King himself who had insisted on Alice’s serving women calling her ‘lady’.
‘On her bed? At midday?’
Cecily and Isabeau dropped their eyes to their embroidery, tittering at poor Mary’s misfortune. Their needles did not move. Alice had no doubt they had sat there all the while in their elegant silk gowns and gossiped.
‘Mary is worth ten of you, you lazy ornaments!’ Alice hissed as she left the room. What had Queen Phillippa been thinking when she’d asked Alice to take them into her chambers?
Mary was different. She had been Alice’s choice, an orphan like herself, only two years younger. Alice trusted Mary, understood her lot in life. Ned Townley had upset the balance. He had been warned to stay away, but the damnable man had kept returning, swearing his undying love, turning Mary’s pretty head.
Well, if one considered a handsome man with pretty speech an ideal knight, Ned was that, and more. Lancaster would never have trained him as a spy if he were not brave and cunning. But he was a nobody. And would ever be a nobody. His sort never acquired property. Never advanced in rank beyond captain. Already it was plain that what little money Ned made he squandered on clothes. It was true he had an eye for colour and fabric, but clothes did not appreciate in value. Mary deserved better. Mary required better.
Alice found Mary sitting in a dark, airless room. She threw open the shutters. ‘For pity’s sake, Mary, how can you breathe?’
Mary blinked, then held her hands before her eyes to shield them from the sudden light. ‘Forgive me, mistress.’
Alice knelt down, lifted Mary’s face towards the light, pushing her hair back from her face. ‘
Mon Dieu
, what a pitiful sight!’ Mary’s lovely face was swollen and red, her eyes bloodshot. ‘Enough of this, Mary! I will stand no more. You must put your knife-thrower out of your mind. I have plans for you.’
Mary twisted out of Alice’s grasp. ‘I shall wed no one but Ned.’
Alice sat back on her heels. ‘You little fool. You do not understand your fortune. I know what it is to be an orphan. I know the uncertainty.’ Her parents had died of the plague the year Alice was born. Until her uncles had devised the plan to educate her and call in favours to establish her at court, she had been brought up by a merchant and his wife, whose own children oft reminded Alice of her temporary status in their home. Alice knew all about uncertainty. She took Mary’s hands in hers. Cold hands. The child was not eating. ‘Trust me, Mary. I want what is best for you. And I can give it to you.’
‘Then help me be with Ned. He loves me and I love him, Mistress Alice. He will take care of me.’
Alice dropped Mary’s hands, rose. ‘For pity’s sake,
think
, Mary. He has no money but that given him by Lancaster. No
Similar Books
