Constant Heart (8 page)

But I did not.

And although the man who had helped me mount also helped me dismount, he provided no cues, no sign of what he expected me to say or to do. And so, coward that I was, I walked into the palace without so much as a backward glance, willing them all to disappear.

7

A
s I twisted and turned through the labyrinth of halls and passageways, I forgot about the men altogether as I neared the Presence Chamber. My thoughts turned instead toward what must lie ahead. I paused in the gallery, in the gloom of a shadow, and then slipped into the room behind a group of other women.

To the right side of the room, I could see the earl, engaged in conversation with a knot of peacock-hued men. One of them, looking toward the door, saw me and then quit the group, slinking away to join another. At his movement, the rest of the men melted away, leaving the earl standing, suddenly, alone.

He turned and saw me. He neither honored me with a bow nor shunned me with a turned back; therefore neither claiming nor disowning me.

To my left, ladies clustered in loose groups, standing as close as their farthingaled skirts would let them, speaking softly and observing much. Their faces, painted white, brought to mind the memory of a childhood Madonna, a relic from Queen Mary’s reign. Carved of marble, her beauty had been frozen as if it were glazed with ice. Her chief attribute had been disregard. It had not mattered how long I stood and gazed at her, she had never turned to look at me.

Wanting for guidance, I tried to signal the earl.

He would not acknowledge me, and I would not cross the room to him. Receiving no direction, I made my own decision and walked toward the nearest group of women.

I stood, silent, listening to their conversation and waiting for a sign of recognition. Some indication of welcome. I knew not a single one, although I was certain most had been present for my introduction to the Queen. But without some person to introduce me, I was casting myself upon their sympathy. Though I could not enter their circle, they could invite me in. And so I prayed for an opening in that formidable hedge of skirts. Prayed that God would establish my feet firmly on this new path I was to take.

I tried to catch an eye, but they were as difficult to trap as butterflies; never still, those gazes constantly fluttered away from me. I tried to smile, but it left me feeling like a simpleton, beaming only for the empty air in front of me. I could, however, hear snatches of their low-voiced conversations.

“. . . introduced her to everyone. Even those who had known her from . . .”

“. . . I assure you. A love match from the very first . . .”

“. . . an annulment. I was there. I saw all, I swear to you . . .”

“. . . quite mad. But they say that it goes well with her in . . .”

From the women’s gowns, a dozen swaying pomanders diffused the scents of amber, nutmeg, and roses long dead. The wafting of breeze from a multitude of ostrich feather fans whorled the odors together and swirled them around me. In the cloying air, I suddenly felt ill. I deployed my own fan and tried to sweep the smells away.

When I could breathe again with ease, I pretended still to be part of the group. In desperation, I smiled, no longer caring if it made me look the fool. I laughed when the other women laughed; hysteria thrust it forth from me. To an observer, I must have appeared quite gay.

“. . . within a fortnight, you can be sure. He only waits until . . .”

“. . . and look you. Next time the Queen . . .”

“. . . retire to the country. Heed my words . . .”

No one paid me any attention and yet I felt as if every eye in the chamber was turned in my direction, as if every word they spoke was made in reference to me. And then I heard an odd noise. It sounded like the nickering of a horse. But surely, there could be none inside the room. As I twisted to the right to try to identify its source, a soft neighing came from my left. And another from a group in front of me.

Feathers fanned the air again, at once both hiding faces and revealing eyes. And that time, they were all turned toward me. And then I understood: this knight’s daughter would not be extended any welcome in this place.

Alternate waves of heat and chill struck my face.

The women quite deliberately turned their shoulders to me and migrated toward another area in the room. I stood alone for some moments, reeling from the snub. Then I did the only thing that I could do.

I fled.

I wound through the halls at Whitehall Palace until I burst through a door into the frigid air and found myself inside a pleasure garden. Deserted in the chill weather, rosebushes pruned to flower late offered up blooms unseen by any other human eye. I found solace in their beauty and relaxed in the luxury of seclusion.

My breath began to slow.

A single medlar tree hunched beside the garden wall, its fruit providing billaments for the branches. I walked closer, inspecting the tree, looking for the medlar most like a rotting apple. I removed my gloves and plucked a promising fruit. Piercing the skin with my teeth, I sucked out the flesh as the juice dribbled down my chin. Soft as a cooked apple with the spiciness of cinnamon, it wanted only a glass of port to attain perfection.

“If I might suggest . . .”

I started at the voice and turned to discover a man extending a handkerchief toward me. He was extraordinarily tall and dressed in the vivid array of a courtier. His flat cap flopped forward over his right eye, a pearl dangled from his ear. But even so, his beard was scraggly and his clothing marked more by disregard than by fastidiousness.

“This kind must be plucked hard, else it will shrivel as it keeps.”

Although I did not like the glint in his eyes, I let the medlar skin and seeds fall to the ground and took the handkerchief from him. I wiped my chin, then gave it back. “I do not know you.”

“Nay, you do not.” He was amiable in his agreement. “Your husband has not been kind enough to make an introduction.” He peered more closely at my chin, then stepped forward to grip it between his thumb and forefinger. “You have a spot just . . .” He brought his head still closer, looking all the while at my lips.

I tried to withdraw, but the force of his grasp rooted me to the earth. My limbs began to tremble.

I had been watching the girl all morning. To her credit, Marget managed to look paler than she had the day before. Also to her credit, she entered the Presence Chamber with the look of a warrior about her. I watched mostly to see what she would do. And what would be done to her. She turned toward me once or twice for guidance, but I could give her none. As in fencing, the society of the court was marked by conversations. Each action must inspire a reaction. To fail to react was simply . . . to fail. But as in fencing, no one could fight for you. Battles among courtiers had to be fought
corps à corps
or not be attempted at all. What was illegal in fencing was expected in these circles. I might have demanded a place for her, but it would have disappeared the moment I turned my back.

Still, even I was shocked by the cruelty with which the noble ladies suddenly separated themselves from her. Could they not have been kind for nobility’s sake? Would she always have to flee a laughing court?

It took quick stepping and the direction of several servants before I found her. She had somehow stumbled upon Her Majesty’s private pleasure garden. I hastened to remove her from it, then slowed my steps. She had already been discovered.

By the Earl of Essex.

Not only did she look like Elinor. She
was
Elinor. She was Elinor come back to haunt me.

As I watched, Essex pulled her close. And I could not separate what I had seen of Elinor, in my very own bed, from what was happening in the garden before me. Was my fate to be forever plagued with feckless women?

Revulsion rose as bile in my throat. I was about to turn away when I thought the better of it. Did he think my wives were his for the plucking?

“I would suggest, Lady, that—”

“May I suggest, Essex, that your best strategy be retreat?”

Heat washed my face as I recognized the earl’s voice.

Apparently the courtier also recognized it. He released my chin and then he bowed, turned on a brightly clad heel, and left.

“Are you so generous with your affections that you would encourage the attentions of the Earl of Essex?”

The heat drained from my face as I recognized the insult to my virtue. “You, of all persons, should know that I am not.” Although I would have liked to have forgotten our marriage bed, I am quite sure that he had not.

“It does not take much to tempt one such as him.” His eyes probed mine.

“I have done nothing! I did not know him. I know no one. I may not introduce myself; moreover, if I could, I would not know to whom I should. You have given me no guidance. You have deserted me!” To my eternal shame, tears leaked from my eyes, disguising my anger as weakness.

I turned my back to him and, stumbling, reached out an arm toward the medlar tree, seeking the strength of a trunk rooted deep within the ground.

He came near but offered me nothing more than had the Earl of Essex, only pulling a handkerchief from his doublet and flicking it toward me. “Dry your tears.” His eyes spoke of impatience rather than concern.

By the time I had done with drying them, he had disappeared. I turned and surveyed the garden for his whereabouts, but he was gone.

I did not want to be offered a handkerchief; I wanted to be invited into his world. I wanted to be his wife, to assume the role for which I had been trained. To be of some service, to serve for some use.

Tears threatened to spring anew, but I had grown tired of them. I turned, threw the handkerchief to the ground, and stalked toward the palace door.

As I reached to pull it open, I thought the better of my actions and turned back to fetch the material. If I could not help the earl advance his position, then at the very least I could help him manage the things he still possessed.

I returned to the palace with reluctance, having no desire to offer myself up as entertainment for the other women. Perhaps . . . perhaps I had done what I could that day. Perhaps a greater impact might be made on the morrow, when I returned myself to their presence. Perhaps that would make the greater statement of my tenacity. Having decided upon that tack, I spent some time in discovering a way to leave the palace and finally broke out into the vast courtyard from which I had earlier entered.

The earl’s men, all the twenty of them, were waiting as I had left them . . . only they had been joined by two others. The earl himself was talking with great animation to the man who had seen to both my mounting and dismounting. And Nicholas stood to one side, watching them both.

I wanted to turn aside and creep back into the palace, but those men not watching the amusement the earl was providing had fixed their eyes fast upon me.

The leader of the twenty saw me and made a swift bow. “My lady.”

The earl turned toward me. His lips were crimped into a frown. “You commanded twenty of my men to accompany you here? And then gave them no leave? They have been sitting here for more than three hours! Precisely the amount of time I have been laughed at— again—by everyone at court!”

I curtsied as deep as I was able. “I had hoped you might accompany me, my lord, but since your presence was required by Her Majesty, I only thought to bring myself to your side as quickly as possible. I did not know the roads in the place. I did not know what kind of villains might await me. I only knew you would have no wish for your own wife to be overtaken by some rude person. If I have erred, please count it as ignorance and seek to remedy the fault through education. I would only do what brings you the most honor.”

“What would do me the most honor is to have you return yourself to Lytham House forthwith.” He held out his hand, ostensibly to help me mount.

I placed mine into his and took advantage of our nearness to say one thing more. Though it destroyed me to do it, I heard myself pleading with him. “You must help me. I will be any kind of wife you want. You must only tell me what it is that you expect. I have no wish to see you laughed at. My sole desire is to see your honor grow. You must believe me!”