dress yourself like that, Mistress Eleanor?’ cried Betsey. ‘Do you want to be taken for a servant?’
‘Yes, Betsey. It’s the easiest way to get about.’ I grinned.
She shook her head disapprovingly as she wrapped a clean cloth around a soft loaf, some sweetmeats, and two apples, supplies for Mother.
‘There, I hope that’s enough for the poor dear,’ fussed Betsey, opening the bundle again to add a leg of chicken. ‘It’s little enough to sustain her. Here—take this loaf for Alice too.’
‘I will, Betsey, though it’s hard to conceal so much.’
As I wrapped the provisions in my shawl, Betsey tutted over my apparel once more.
‘Whatever be the world coming to when young ladies have to dress as servants in their own homes?’ Betsey grumbled. ‘Is the master going to get you nothing new at all for the king’s visit?’
‘Oh yes, some very grand clothes are being made for me. But they aren’t yet ready. Meanwhile I have to get out to the village.’
She nodded. ‘To think, that we shall see the king in a few days.’ She stopped what she was doing and hugged herself, her face lit up with excitement. ‘Is he as handsome as they say, Mistress?’ When I nodded, she shivered with sheer pleasure. ‘Ooh, I shall be all of a twitter worriting about serving food to royalty,’ she exclaimed. ‘And will his new queen be accompanying him?’
‘Anne of Cleves?’ I asked. ‘I do not know.’ I leaned forward conspiratorially: ‘I have heard that he travels into the west country to escape her,’ I whispered. ‘There is talk of divorce.’
‘Surely not?’ She gasped. ‘They are not five months wed!’
‘Well, that’s what I heard,’ I told her.
I left her to her work, and headed out of the kitchens and up a staircase to the next floor. I skirted the great hall, not wanting to risk my disguise too far. I slipped down a narrow, little-used corridor.
It was very early and most of the guests were still abed. I was disappointed therefore to see a smartly dressed young man coming down a stairway towards me. It was too late to turn back; he had already seen me. I glanced swiftly and recognized him. He was the man who had spotted me peeping from the hayloft the day my father returned.
I kept my eyes down and hurried up the stairs. He was looking at me. I turned my face away, but to my great annoyance, I caught my foot on the step just as I was level with him. I fell onto the stone stairs, striking my shin painfully on the edge of a step, and the bundle flew out of my hands. I cursed myself. Before I could scramble up again, strong hands took hold of my arms, and pulled me to my feet.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
‘Not at all,’ I assured him mendaciously, looking anxiously for my bundle. He let me go and went to gather it up for me. I saw it had come unwrapped and my heart jumped into my mouth. An apple had rolled out onto the stairway and I could see my folded note lying loose. I rushed to grasp the note before he could, stuffing it into my sleeve.
‘Please, do not trouble yourself,’ I begged him, trying to pick up the other things myself as well.
‘It’s no trouble,’ he replied.
Fortunately, he gathered my bundle without curiosity or comment and handed it to me. I almost snatched it from him in my eagerness to hide it and be gone. Before I could make my escape, he took hold of my arm again.
‘May I not know your name?’ he asked in a light-hearted voice. I panicked for a moment, but then remembered I was supposed to be playing the servant. I had quite forgotten.
‘It’s Jane, if you please, sir.’ I told him, bobbing a curtsey, eyes down. ‘Please, may I pass, sir?’ I imitated the west-country burr with which all the servants spoke and was pardonably pleased with the result. I hoped he would not notice the inconsistency with my former speech.
‘Why, what’s the hurry?’ he asked. ‘Let me see your face first.’
I wished to avoid his close scrutiny at all costs.
‘Yes, Betsey. It’s the easiest way to get about.’ I grinned.
She shook her head disapprovingly as she wrapped a clean cloth around a soft loaf, some sweetmeats, and two apples, supplies for Mother.
‘There, I hope that’s enough for the poor dear,’ fussed Betsey, opening the bundle again to add a leg of chicken. ‘It’s little enough to sustain her. Here—take this loaf for Alice too.’
‘I will, Betsey, though it’s hard to conceal so much.’
As I wrapped the provisions in my shawl, Betsey tutted over my apparel once more.
‘Whatever be the world coming to when young ladies have to dress as servants in their own homes?’ Betsey grumbled. ‘Is the master going to get you nothing new at all for the king’s visit?’
‘Oh yes, some very grand clothes are being made for me. But they aren’t yet ready. Meanwhile I have to get out to the village.’
She nodded. ‘To think, that we shall see the king in a few days.’ She stopped what she was doing and hugged herself, her face lit up with excitement. ‘Is he as handsome as they say, Mistress?’ When I nodded, she shivered with sheer pleasure. ‘Ooh, I shall be all of a twitter worriting about serving food to royalty,’ she exclaimed. ‘And will his new queen be accompanying him?’
‘Anne of Cleves?’ I asked. ‘I do not know.’ I leaned forward conspiratorially: ‘I have heard that he travels into the west country to escape her,’ I whispered. ‘There is talk of divorce.’
‘Surely not?’ She gasped. ‘They are not five months wed!’
‘Well, that’s what I heard,’ I told her.
I left her to her work, and headed out of the kitchens and up a staircase to the next floor. I skirted the great hall, not wanting to risk my disguise too far. I slipped down a narrow, little-used corridor.
It was very early and most of the guests were still abed. I was disappointed therefore to see a smartly dressed young man coming down a stairway towards me. It was too late to turn back; he had already seen me. I glanced swiftly and recognized him. He was the man who had spotted me peeping from the hayloft the day my father returned.
I kept my eyes down and hurried up the stairs. He was looking at me. I turned my face away, but to my great annoyance, I caught my foot on the step just as I was level with him. I fell onto the stone stairs, striking my shin painfully on the edge of a step, and the bundle flew out of my hands. I cursed myself. Before I could scramble up again, strong hands took hold of my arms, and pulled me to my feet.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
‘Not at all,’ I assured him mendaciously, looking anxiously for my bundle. He let me go and went to gather it up for me. I saw it had come unwrapped and my heart jumped into my mouth. An apple had rolled out onto the stairway and I could see my folded note lying loose. I rushed to grasp the note before he could, stuffing it into my sleeve.
‘Please, do not trouble yourself,’ I begged him, trying to pick up the other things myself as well.
‘It’s no trouble,’ he replied.
Fortunately, he gathered my bundle without curiosity or comment and handed it to me. I almost snatched it from him in my eagerness to hide it and be gone. Before I could make my escape, he took hold of my arm again.
‘May I not know your name?’ he asked in a light-hearted voice. I panicked for a moment, but then remembered I was supposed to be playing the servant. I had quite forgotten.
‘It’s Jane, if you please, sir.’ I told him, bobbing a curtsey, eyes down. ‘Please, may I pass, sir?’ I imitated the west-country burr with which all the servants spoke and was pardonably pleased with the result. I hoped he would not notice the inconsistency with my former speech.
‘Why, what’s the hurry?’ he asked. ‘Let me see your face first.’
I wished to avoid his close scrutiny at all costs.
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