The Lost Duchess by Jenny Barden Page A

relief. She was safe and with people she knew. Her maid, Biddy, Lady Frances Howard and others familiar to her would be not far away. She jerked up on one elbow, rubbed at her eyes and gave a small moan. As her thoughts cleared, she realised nothing had changed. It was no surprise to her that she had dreamt of falling. In truth, she had fallen already even if outwardly she appeared unharmed. Still breathing heavily, she rocked back and forth.
    Bess got up quietly, ghost pale in the shuttered dark. She squatted down by Emme’s bed and put her arms around her.
    ‘It’s all right, Emme,’ she whispered. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. You were only having a bad dream.’
    Emme hugged Bess back, then buried her face against her friend’s linen shift, inhaling its scent of rose petals and human sweetness, aware of the young woman’s body beneath, younger than hers, one untouched. Her tears began to gush helplessly because Bess was so kind yet everything was
not
all right. It would never be all right.
    Bess kissed her cheek, murmuring with soft sibilance.
    ‘What is it, Emme? Surely a dream should not upset you so?’
    ‘It’s not the dream, Bess, not that. It’s … No, I can’t tell anyone.’
    ‘Telling me might be a help, Emme. A trouble shared is a trouble made less; that’s what my nurse always said.’
    ‘Dear Bess.’ Emme gave her another squeeze. Bess was a true good friend but she could never begin to confess her shame to her.
    Bess whispered softly.
    ‘You called out while you were dreaming.’
    ‘What?’ Panic gripped Emme again. ‘What did I say?’
    Bess made her whispering even quieter, squeezing it into hot damp puffs against Emme’s ear.
    ‘You said: “
Joined
–
No!
” and “
Lord
…” At least I think that’s what it was.’ Bess gave a small suppressed giggle. ‘Were you blaspheming in your sleep?’
    Emme shook her head as her tears flowed. She sniffled and groped for her handkerchief. If Bess meant to cheer her, she had failed.
    ‘So were you naming someone?’ Bess whispered again more urgently. ‘Did you not want to be joined with
a lord
?’
    It was too much. Bess knew her too well. Her friend had guessed at her secret before Emme had any chance to try and better conceal it. She blew her nose and covered her eyes and could not stop the great shuddering sobs that racked her. She fell into her friend’s embrace and they held one another tight.
    ‘A lord has ruined me, Bess.’
    ‘No!’ Bess gasped. ‘Who?’
    Emme took a deep breath and murmured in a small voice. ‘Lord Hertford.’
    ‘But he’s so old!’ Bess sounded incredulous.
    ‘Not too old for what he did to me.’
    ‘Oh no … He didn’t …’ Bess took hold of Emme’s hand and gripped it until her nails dug in. ‘Not with his … Not as a man should only do with his wife …’
    ‘Yes, that.’
    Emme sensed Bess was struggling to imagine what had happened,and she supposed the act was as much beyond her friend’s experience as it had been beyond her own until that night, just over two weeks ago, when her innocence had been ripped from her.
    ‘He trapped me here in the palace,’ she began to explain in an undertone. ‘He locked me in a room and then …’
    ‘Shhh!’ Bess shot back into bed and pulled the covers over her head.
    The glow of a candle passed over them as Lady Howard surveyed all the beds in the chamber.
    Emme slumped down and pressed her face to her pillow.
    ‘Who was talking?’ Lady Howard snapped.
    ‘I was, my lady,’ Emme spoke up, anxious to shield Bess from any blame. ‘I had a nightmare and spoke out in my sleep. I am sorry to have disturbed you.’
    Lady Howard clicked her tongue.
    ‘I am sure that everyone here does not wish to know the state of your dreams, Mistress Fifield. I’ll thank you to be quiet.’
    Emme screwed shut her eyes and said nothing more.
    She prayed she had not already said too much.
    *
    The beat was quick, the music bright and Emme saw the Queen