Back | Next
Contents

Chapter 24

When Sir Thomas Seymour had traveled west, he had still been very unsure about the advice the charlatan Otstargi had given him. He had brought with him a substantial force to take and punish the pirate Thomessin, who had seized on the Scilly Isles and was using them as a base for his piracy. He found, however, just as Otstargi had suggested, that Thomessin was very ready to share his spoils and to influence others in Sir Thomas' favor.

Sir Thomas had then occupied Lundy Isle, which he made available to other pirates on the same terms he had given Thomessin, ignoring the protests of the French ambassador. That was a mistake because the ambassador had brought his protests to Sir Thomas' brother, the Protector. Somerset had written Thomas a furious letter, but Thomas had faced him down, writing back that the pirates were too elusive and that the French ambassador was maligning him apurpose to make trouble between them.

There was some reason for Somerset to believe that. His dealings with Scotland were becoming more and more difficult and he had received evidence that the French were supporting the Scots in their resistance to marrying their infant princess, Mary, to King Edward. It seemed quite mad to Somerset that the Scots should resist so simple a solution to the long years of war between the two nations.

By May, when Thomas returned to Chelsea, Somerset was already beginning to plan his campaign against Scotland to take the princess by force of arms if he could not have her by diplomacy. The French were certainly urging the Scots to remain intransigent so their ambassador's tale of Thomas' dealings with the pirates had become less convincing. When Thomas came to pay his respects to the Protector, Somerset did not chide him about the privateering in the narrow sea.

That plus the substantial sums Thomas had carried east from the isles and from his share of the clipping and other devices William Sharington was using to bilk the Bristol Mint made Thomas believe that possibly Otstargi was more than a charlatan. And every time Thomas looked at the glowing ruby Otstargi had given him, he felt a strong urge to consult the man again, charlatan or not. Certainly Otstargi had given him profitable advice. Thus, Sir Thomas sent a message to London informing Otstargi when he had arrived in Chelsea.

He was annoyed when he did not at once receive a deferential reply begging to know when it would be convenient to him for Otstargi to make an appointment. He was even more annoyed when the answer finally came. In addition to simply stating that Otstargi would be willing to receive him in a week's time, the note said, "Make sure that the person known as Lord Denno is no longer welcome in your house. He is a great danger to the success of your most important enterprise."

The fortune-teller had overreached himself, Thomas thought, tossing the note aside. Although the name sounded familiar, there was no Lord Denno in the household. However, only a few days later his wife mentioned that Lord Denno had been invited to dinner. Then Thomas recalled that the man was a rich merchant who had made a valuable gift of furs to Catherine and been entertained alone with her in her parlor.

At that time such gifts could have reduced his influence with Catherine. Thomas remembered he had decided to be rid of Denno, who was of no importance. He had set a watch on him and when he learned Denno was coming to the palace again, had directed two of his men to remove him. Those men had been found dead the next day. Thomas remembered the chill he had felt when he had the news, but no harm had come of his too-casual order. Denno had taken the warning and not again tried to reach Catherine, and Thomas had been glad to let the matter drop.

I should not have done so, Thomas thought, when he saw Catherine greet the man with the warmth of an old friend. He had been hoodwinked, Thomas decided; the encroaching commoner had somehow continued to see Catherine. But Thomas was no longer a suitor hoping for favor. Now that Catherine was his wife he needed no subtleties. As a husband, he could simply give an order to cut Denno's acquaintance and be obeyed. Nonetheless, his respect for Otstargi, who had foreseen or learned of Denno's intrusion into the household, increased.

He went to his appointment with Otstargi with rather more interest than he had felt on his first visit. Nor was he disappointed; after they had discussed the success of the ventures with the pirates and with Sharington, Otstargi told him to decline the offer to command the army that was to be sent by sea to support the Protector's invasion of Scotland.

Thomas frowned. "I will be called a coward."

"Oh, no. Suggest instead that the Protector make you lieutenant-general of the south to guard against any French invasion. Somerset will be very glad to do it, since it will keep you from dimming his glory."

"I am not so sure I want him to reap too much glory in Scotland."

Otstargi laughed. "He will win a battle but lose the war. He will not get the princess, and meanwhile you will have a chance to make yourself pleasant to the landowners, most of whom your brother has managed to offend. You might even put the coin you have gathered to good use and collect arms and men—you can say they will be sent north if the Protector needs them, but they will be your men."

Thomas' eyes glittered. "That sounds like good advice."

"All my advice is good. So, have you yet discovered who is the young girl with red hair who seems always to be in my images with you?" Vidal/Otstargi knew perfectly well that the red-haired girl was Elizabeth, but because he could not set watchers on her or, indeed, anywhere in Catherine's household lest she or Blanche sense them, he needed Thomas to tell him what was going on.

The question startled Thomas, who had after considerable thought decided to put aside the notions Otstargi had given him. That image of him and Elizabeth seated together under cloths of state . . . perhaps Otstargi had somehow picked up that idea from him, from an inadvertent comment about his hopes, before his brother had told him he would sooner see Thomas hanged than Elizabeth's husband.

"You are still seeing me connected with that girl with red hair?"

"Yes. More than ever, but mostly I see her as still very young playing games with you, being teased and petted by you, and becoming more and more fond of you. Do you yet know who she is? I think she must be some great man's daughter . . ."

"Great, indeed," Thomas said. "She is Lady Elizabeth, the late King Henry's daughter, and she is my wife's guest. Are you suggesting that I court her . . . in my wife's presence?"

Otstargi laughed again. "What could be safer? Surely no one will think ill of you or of her if your games include your wife?"

"Perhaps not, but what can be the point of attaching Lady Elizabeth? I am married already. Your vision of Elizabeth and myself seated under cloths of state must be false."

Vidal/Otstargi almost gave away his satisfaction over the way that idea had fixed itself in Thomas Seymour's rather limited mind. He said pointedly, "Images are neither true nor false. They depend on the actions of those who are imaged. I can tell you that that particular image will certainly be false if you do not fix yourself immovably in Lady Elizabeth's affections. The road to my Vision will not be quick or smooth, but if she is bound hard enough to you . . ."

Now Thomas smiled slowly. "I am not inexperienced with women, and she is young. I think it should be possible for me to make her love me."

"That would be very wise, and remember that the farther along that path you draw her, the harder she will fight to have you."

"I am already married," Thomas pointed out.

Vidal/Otstargi shrugged. "Now," he replied. "Accidents happen—"

"No! I will not, nor will you harm my wife!"

"I will not, certainly," Vidal agreed easily—and why not agree. Catherine was useful at this moment as hostess to Elizabeth, which gave Thomas free access to her. If later he felt Thomas needed to be free to seduce Elizabeth into marriage, he certainly would not be bound by anything he said to the fool.

"Besides," Thomas added, "my brother says Elizabeth is beyond my touch. In fact he said he would sooner see me hanged than married to her."

Otstargi/Vidal smiled with genuine pleasure at this confirmation that Elizabeth would be permanently disgraced by any relationship with Thomas.

"I would not take his words too seriously," he said. "I agree that he would stop you from winning her regard if he could, but what he does not know, what is sheltered by your wife's presence and approval . . ."

Thomas made an inarticulate sound and started to rise.

Otstargi held up a hand and said, "Wait." He hesitated, frowned, and then added, "I feel I must warn you that I will not be here to help you further. It will be useless for you to write to me or come here. I must leave England for some time. However, I have told you already all I have seen that is of importance to you. Stay out of the coming war with Scotland and bind to you Lady Elizabeth."

Vidal didn't want Sir Thomas or any other client coming to Otstargi's house. He had to be in Scotland very soon and would likely have to remain there for some time. A war was brewing and he needed to make sure the Scots yielded nothing to the English so the war would continue. But he had to warn his clients away because he had discovered that Pasgen had been in the house.

That had been a terrible shock. To learn what had happened in his absence, Vidal had stripped the servant's mind as soon as he arrived. He nearly burst with rage when he discovered that Pasgen had been in the house several times. His fury was such that his mind blast had almost killed the servant, who dropped unconscious to the floor. Vidal had raised a hand with every intention of incinerating the useless hulk, but bethought himself of the nuisance of getting a new servant and wiping its mind, and kicked the prone body instead of killing it.

When his rage subsided enough for him to think, Vidal realized that he would have to warn away Otstargi's clients and he had done so; Seymour was the last. He did not want Pasgen meddling with those under his influence. But even as that thought came to mind, he recalled the image the servant had given him. Pasgen had not disguised himself as Otstargi. He had retained his natural form and had spent his time talking to Albertus, Aurilia's mortal healer.

Why? Pasgen was never interested in mortals. Why had he spent so much time with the healer Aurilia had sent to arrange the deaths of Denoriel and Aleneil? Vidal kicked the body near his feet again out of impotent fury as he guessed that Rhoslyn had convinced her indulgent brother to save their half brother and sister. Rhoslyn was softhearted and not too clever. Vidal ground his teeth.

Hearing the servant, who had taken two days to recover, return from seeing Seymour out recalled to Vidal the events of that first day back in London. Now he was angry again. Stupid mortal! Vidal regretted having sent Aurilia's mortal healer back to her. He should have torn Albertus limb from limb. Doubtless the fool had told Pasgen his plans; likely enough that was why Albertus' plans had miscarried.

Vidal stared into nothing across Otstargi's table and vowed he would master Pasgen. He would! There must be some way . . . Then his tense body relaxed. Yes, there was. One of the cleverest and least trustworthy of his Dark Sidhe, Piteka, had questioned him on what reward he could have for finding Llanelli. Such a question meant that Piteka must have some information about her. Vidal nodded. It would be very useful to have that idiot Llanelli in his hands. Both Pasgen and Rhoslyn would dance to his tune when their mother would suffer for their intransigence.

For a moment more Vidal remained seated behind the table thinking about the taking of Llanelli. Then he rose and climbed the stairs to Otstargi's bedchamber from where he Gated back to Caer Mordwyn.

Arrived in his own bedchamber in the palace, Vidal shook his head. He would need to warn Piteka that Llanelli must be kept in close confinement but not seriously harmed. Piteka could torment her and sup off her misery, but Piteka was often too enthusiastic about wringing life-force from his victims. And, Vidal thought, he would speak to Chenga too and remind her . . .

Vidal ground his teeth again. Reminding Chenga that she must pass as Bright Court Sidhe would be useless. Chenga was a weak reed on whom to rest a deception. She had done well to discover that Elizabeth would visit Elfhame Cymry, but Chenga loose in an elfhame full of fat and pampered mortals was an invitation to disaster. Vidal knew she would not be able to resist seizing and tormenting a few of the mortals, exposing herself as unfitted to live in Cymry. Likely she would not only be expelled but marked so she could not return.

Nor could he send his imp watchers to Cymry. They would be detected and driven out or killed. Yet Cymry was his best hope of being rid of Elizabeth. They held full many mortal balls and tournaments during which many non-Cymry Sidhe mingled. And they had little magic so Denoriel would be less watchful.

A fireball formed on Vidal's fingers and burned a table near his hand. That Denoriel was sly as a kitsune and his mortal friend, who carried iron weapons, was fearless. When Vidal learned that Denoriel was bringing Elizabeth Underhill almost every mortal day, he thought one of his Sidhe would be able to touch her with poison or strike her with a levin bolt, but Denoriel's movements were too erratic. Goeel had found them in Fur Hold but could not get near Elizabeth.

A flicker of black. Vidal howled and raised his fist over an arriving imp, but his lifted arm was caught and held midair. He broke the spell. Before he could smash the imp to relieve his frustration, he heard Aurilia say lazily, "Oh, there you are. Don't squash that imp. I find it useful."

Vidal turned on her, black/violet light flickered for a moment on the tips of his fingers. Aurilia sent two little forked lights, one of which touched each of Vidal's hands. He hissed and shook them, but the threatening light on his fingers died.

"And what has put you into such a fine humor?" Aurilia asked. "I thought you were only going to see that loud-mouth human who is only too eager to do what you suggest."

"It is nothing to do with him; he is less than nothing. He will try and he might even succeed in making Elizabeth his mistress. Then I need only expose her. She will be disgraced and removed from the succession, but it is not sure enough. She must be dead."

"Why?" Aurilia asked, lifting her brows. "Titania has a particular liking for the creature, and I am not too eager to incite Titania's displeasure."

Vidal shrugged. "Fortunately Titania is inconstant in her favor. We must take the chance. Elizabeth must be dead! As long as she is alive, she can be as easily restored to the succession as she was removed from it. Edward will die in a few years. The poison of the thorn that touched him is slowly eating at him. Then Mary should come to the throne. And we would have the Inquisition and the burnings. But those who rule for Edward will not want Mary to succeed Edward and bring back the old religion. They will restore Elizabeth and try to enthrone her to keep the new religion."

"Yes," Aurilia agreed, but she looked puzzled, "but Mary's supporters will not yield tamely. A little civil war . . . that would be delicious. There will be looting and burning and rape. Let them fight, my lord. It will be a rich soup of pain and misery for us to feed upon."

"Unless Elizabeth's supporters win!" Vidal spat. "No, she must be dead. But as you say, she is Titania's pet. She needs to die by accident in a Bright Court elfhame and if possible by a mortal mistake. I know she intends to visit Elfhame Cymry." He explained why Elizabeth would be specially vulnerable in Cymry and then clenched his fist. "But I have no way of learning when she will be there."

"I thought Chenga—"

Vidal shook his head vigorously and explained his thoughts about Chenga.

Aurilia nodded slowly; then her eyes grew intent. "Let Chenga go anyway," she said, "and we will send Albertus with her. When she hurts their mortals, Cymry will drive her out. Then Albertus will beg sanctuary among them and be received with sympathy. Relying as they do upon mortals, they will be delighted to get a good healer. In a short time, he will be trusted and not watched."

"But he cannot Gate. How will he bring us news?"

"Oh, my lord, an amulet will let him Gate, and will make sure he Gates only to where we wish him to go." She smiled, showing her sharp pointed teeth. "Mortals do get ideas of their own."

 

Considering the profit Otstargi's past advice had provided for him, Thomas thought it only sensible to follow the advice about Elizabeth also. After all, since she was a member of Catherine's household, he would not need to make his courtship of her obvious by visiting her openly. And whether or not that vision of him and Elizabeth under cloths of state came true, it could only do him good to have her in love with him. Catherine would only be amused by Elizabeth's childish devotion.

He intended to show his particularity at once, but Elizabeth was out riding when he returned to Chelsea. He did ask Catherine where she had gone, but Catherine only replied that Elizabeth was safe, accompanied by two guardsmen and two well-armed grooms. She carefully did not mention that Lord Denno was probably also of the party. Thomas did not ask further; of a jealous nature himself, he did not want Catherine to suspect he was too interested in Elizabeth.

The next afternoon was too hot for riding and moreover threatened rain to end the sultriness. At dinner, Elizabeth and Catherine had a discussion about the morals in Plato's work and how they proved that modern Christian teaching was eternal truth. Thomas was very bored and suggested that perhaps Elizabeth should take her lessons in the afternoon rather than the morning. That would leave the mornings, which were cooler for her expeditions ahorse.

"No, no," Elizabeth protested, laughing. "Master Grindal would be most displeased if I came to him tired from riding and eating. As it is, even in the morning I can barely absorb the weighty subjects with which Plato deals."

"And why should so lovely a young lady care for Plato's weighty subjects?" Thomas asked archly.

"Well, for one reason, so that her mind should be as lovely as her face," Catherine said with a laugh. "I have often regretted that my tutors did not press me to learn more than I did."

"I am not sorry," Thomas said, quick to catch the slight acidity in his wife's voice. "You are perfect as you are."

Catherine blushed with pleasure, but Thomas, not being completely a fool, did not again compliment Elizabeth's beauty in Catherine's hearing. He did, however, engage all the younger ladies of the household—of whom he insisted his wife was one—in a game of hide and seek.

Thomas was loud in comment and protest when he was tagged and made them all merry. But when he found Elizabeth he made just a moment to whisper a compliment on her figure and to pat her behind as he prodded her out of her hiding place. Catherine, he kissed for his tag. Catherine was as happy and merry as the youngest of the girls.

Thomas spent more time at Chelsea than usual and most of that time with the ladies of the household. Elizabeth was part amused, part flattered, and part irritated by Tom's boisterous playfulness. One day he actually enlisted Catherine's help to hold Elizabeth still, while he cut away her gown bit by bit.

Catherine thought it very funny, adding to the excitement by tickling Elizabeth. But although the fact that a man other than her Denno was removing her dress excited her, it also annoyed her. She knew she would not dare ask Catherine to pay for the gown—it would seem mean and selfish after all the teasing and laughter—but that meant she would herself have to pay for a new gown. Still she did not fight Thomas off, and it did send a thrill through her when her underdress exposed her to his eyes.

This time, however, Kat, who had watched the other games indulgently, scolded Elizabeth for allowing her gown to be cut up in public. That annoyed Elizabeth even more. Would it have been better to allow Thomas to undress her in private? She suspected that was what he intended to suggest—silly man. Denno did not roar with laughter at his own jests or poke her to bring his cleverness to her attention. Denno trusted her to be clever enough to understand his sly humor and made undressing a sensuous delight instead of a coarse joke.

All Elizabeth could say in her defense was that she could not stop Thomas because Queen Catherine was holding her, and she dared not wrench herself away. Nor could she long remain annoyed with Thomas. Compared with Denno, Thomas seemed to her like a very large, clumsy puppy who was trying to amuse her. She just accepted his advances and smiled brilliantly on him whenever they met.

Once in a while it occurred to Elizabeth that he was deliberately trying to arouse her but she dismissed the idea. He was Catherine's husband and was only trying to keep Catherine's guest happy in the only way he knew to make a female happy, by flirting with her. The proof of that to her was that he flirted with all the other ladies in the household too. She could not spend much thought on Thomas. Her other life, of which he knew nothing, was currently too sweet.

Most nights Denno took her Underhill. Sometimes they explored the markets or places like Fur Hold, where she had danced on a platform to Denno playing the lute for an audience impossible to describe. Da was with them that day and had fended off a rude Sidhe who had grabbed at her. They thought it was because of her dancing; Elizabeth dismissed it and forgot it when Da told her that he had performed on the same platform, recalling when he and Denno had arrived there by accident and he had sung "Maiden in the Moor."

Sometimes with Da who was on rare occasions accompanied by Rhoslyn, sometimes with Aleneil and Ilar, but most often just she and Denno explored the safe holds and hames of Underhill. They ate in wonderful places, and Elizabeth wore costumes of such beauty and magnificence that they took her breath away. But best of all, wherever they went, they came home to Denno's rooms in Llachar Lle and to his wide bed and the ever-increasing pleasures he gave and took from her body.

Elizabeth felt that she was living two entirely separate lives. She did manage to concentrate on her lessons so that her tutor, Master Grindal, was satisfied with her progress, but Denno and Underhill held most of her attention.

She was aware only vaguely that whenever Thomas came to stay with Catherine, whether it was at Chelsea or at Hanworth out in the country, or in Seymour Place in London, he paid her more and more particular attention. She did not tell Denno; it was not important to her and likely Denno would tell her she must discourage Thomas. That would upset Catherine so Elizabeth kept Thomas' behavior as a little amusing guilty secret. Perhaps she should have been colder, but she was flattered . . . and Catherine was always there.

Besides it was hard to think of how to stop it. The flirting always started innocently with Thomas amusing the whole company, mostly with physical games—hoodman-blind on a day that it rained too hard to go out; catch-as-catch-can on a day in autumn when running was welcome to warm the blood.

Moreover Thomas held every feminine captive against him in hoodman-blind, and touched her to make sure of her identity, not only Elizabeth. She thought he took a trace longer with her and often pressed a small kiss to her neck as he sniffed for her perfume. But she could not help being flattered, and she was sure Catherine never noticed.

Even when they played catch-as-catch-can, which was too wild for long fondling, Thomas would manage to seize her shoulder and, his body blocking Catherine's view, was able to stroke her breast where it bulged above her gown and pinch the nipple. He was very crude compared with Denno, and that amused Elizabeth even when a guilty thrill went though her.

Elizabeth was just beginning to wonder if Thomas was growing too particular in his attentions when, one morning, he and Catherine burst into her chamber to catch her in bed before she woke. Denno was in bed with her. He often lay with her for a while when he brought her back to the mortal world, talking idly or drowsing if their lovemaking had been particularly energetic. It was a kind of bridge between one life and the other.

Denno's keen ears caught the footfalls coming across the parlor; he muttered the Don't-see-me spell and disappeared. However, he could not hide the upheaval of the bedclothes as he left the bed. Elizabeth could only try to seem so startled as almost to convulse, shaking her arms and legs and lifting the bedclothes all around her body. She cried out, too, and tossed her head from side to side so that the pillows beside her place had a reason to be dented as well as her own.

She was utterly terrified and must have looked it so that Catherine came well forward and assured her that all was well, that she and Tom had only wanted to surprise her. Realizing that Catherine and Thomas had no suspicion that Denno had been abed with her permitted Elizabeth to begin to laugh when they tickled her feet and threatened to pull the blankets off her. But she was really angry because she knew that the sweet bridge between mortal world and Underhill was lost. After the incident with the door being stuck, she could not use that device again. She and Denno would never again dare to share her bed.

Elizabeth hoped that her reaction, which was certainly not all pleasure, would end any future playful invasions. But only a few days later, Thomas came to her chamber alone. Elizabeth leapt from her bed and fled behind the bedcurtains, calling her maidens to her. All of them hid behind the bedcurtains. They all laughed and Elizabeth pretended to do so, but she would not come out, no matter how long Thomas waited, calling out teasing threats.

By then, Blanche had run out the back door and brought Kat, who was not amused. She waylaid Thomas in the gallery outside Elizabeth's bedchamber and told him that what he was doing had already become a matter of unpleasant gossip and that he must stop or evil would be spoken about Elizabeth.

Thomas defended himself, saying he meant no ill, but Kat was frightened; she had heard that married or not he had an eye for women. That was not so terrible, many men were like that, but Elizabeth was not "any girl." Kat went to the queen and spoke her fears. Catherine only laughed at what she called Thomas' antics, but she did promise Kat that she herself would come with Thomas in the future.

So she did and the early morning visits tapered off and stopped. Elizabeth thought Thomas was annoyed; he cast some speaking glances at her. That was flattering too, but she replied to the invitation in his looks only with a smile.

Currently Elizabeth had something far more interesting to think about and plan for. She had been invited to Court by her brother. She took part in no more romping games for she was too busy with her wardrobe and an embroidered handkerchief for Edward. She had heard that the usual New Year's gifts were forbidden by the Protector, but she hoped to slip the handkerchief to her brother when no one was watching.

She was very excited. It had been almost a year since she had last seen Edward—when they wept together over the news of their father's death. In fact, she was so excited that she had forgotten entirely that it would be impossible for Denno to see her while she was at Court. That information came to her as a terrible shock one night. She had slipped out of bed and was waiting languidly for Denno to magic her clothing onto her; instead he snapped at her angrily.

"Do you not care at all?"

Elizabeth blinked. "Care? Care about what, love?"

"That we will not see each other, touch each other, for weeks?"

"What?" Elizabeth said stupidly. "Why? Why should we be parted? Are you angry with me?"

"You are going to Court," Denoriel said, staring at her.

"Yes!" Elizabeth smiled brightly. "It will be so wonderful to see Edward. I know I will have to bow to him and I will not be able to hug him and be familiar as we were, but we will be able to talk about his lessons and mine and—"

"And I am forbidden to go anywhere near your Court!" Denoriel interrupted.

"Oh!" Elizabeth breathed. "Oh! I had forgotten that." Her eyes were a muddy brown when she lifted them to him. "But when I was at Hampton Court with Catherine, we met in the maze or in the wilderness and when I rode out."

"Yes, and do you remember all the trouble you fell into when Lady Mary saw Harry in the garden? If we are seen . . ."

"We will be more careful," Elizabeth said, her voice tremulous. "You do not need to appear at all. I can get out and meet you somewhere and you can make a Gate and take me Underhill." In the mortal world she could not have said the words Gate or Underhill, but in Llachar Lle she could.

But now the black anger had faded from Denoriel's face. He realized that Elizabeth was not indifferent to their parting, that she was so accustomed to his building a Gate wherever she was and taking her away that she had not thought about the dangers and difficulties of meeting in the overcrowded and gossip-ridden Court. His use of magic at Court could also call down Oberon's wrath for greatly increasing the danger of exposing the existence of the Sidhe.

He got out of bed himself and gestured their clothing onto their bodies. At that sign that her time Underhill was over, she did not know for how long, Elizabeth uttered a small cry of distress and reached out toward him. Denoriel took her hand and then drew her into his arms. He had been thinking that she was as shallow in her affection as the Sidhe, that she had used him while she was bored with her staid life with Catherine and now that a better amusement was offered would cast him aside.

That was clearly not true. Her beautiful, long-fingered hands were fastened tight into his doublet, and her expression was full of distress. Denoriel regretted his abrupt disclosure now. He had been hurt and stupidly wanted to hurt her in return. Of a sudden he remembered that she was only fourteen years old; to salve his conscience he always thought of her as a woman. And in many ways she was fully adult—but now he realized she was still a child in the delight she took in Court life, which had simply wiped every other consideration out of her mind.

"Careful cannot be enough, Elizabeth," Denoriel said gently, unfastening her fingers from his doublet and kissing them. "The Court will be so overcrowded that I do not dare come into any chamber there. Blanche will not have a chamber of her own but be crammed in with many other maids, and likely you will not have your own dressing room but need to share with your maidens. Out of doors is impossible. It is December."

Elizabeth swallowed hard. "I do not care for that. All know I love to ride. I will say I do not mind the cold. Mayhap there will be warmer days. If you leave an air spirit with me, I can send it for you—"

"Little love, that will not do. You are the king's sister. If you say you want to ride, a party will form. Can you imagine what will be said of you if you deny them and say you want to ride alone?"

"Then I will find some place where we can meet at night. I will . . . I will beg Elidir or Mechain to teach me a sleep spell. I will put sleep upon those in my chamber—"

"Elizabeth! Do you think the corridors and antechambers are ever empty when the full Court is present? No, love, it would be a disaster if you are discovered creeping out alone. It would be far worse than when you were eleven years old. Even then Mary called you a whore. What would she call you now if you were seen creeping out in the middle of the night?"

She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide and desolate, but Denoriel felt relieved because she had obviously accepted that sneaking away at night would ruin her. Then she drew a sharp breath and smiled.

"You are a merchant," she said. "And everyone knows I have received beautiful cloth and furs from you. Surely I could come to your house or your place of business to look over what you have. I need a fine New Year's gift for Catherine."

He smiled at her. "First of all, if you think you will be able to come alone, you are mad. Half the Court buys from me and will think I will give them special consideration if they come in your company. How do you propose to disappear from their midst? And secondly, you can come once, perhaps twice if I say I do not have what you request but will obtain it for you, but no more than that, Elizabeth."

"I know." Her eyes were still dark and troubled. "But I miss you so much. I cannot bear to think of not seeing you, not speaking to you at all for so long."

Now Denoriel laughed. "It will not seem so long to you. You will be constantly engaged. But let me remind you that you should make time to talk with William Cecil. He is already the Protector's secretary and might be able to do you much good. And give a good greeting to his wife, Mildred Coke, she was."

Elizabeth shook her head at him. "I do not need that reminder. I have not forgotten that Cecil has often sent me valuable news. And as far as Mildred . . . Do not be so silly. Mildred has been a good friend since I was with the group at Hampton Court. Of course I will greet her, and ask her to join me if she has no other company."

Denoriel sighed. "You will enjoy yourself so much, I hope you will not forget me entirely."

"Denno!" Elizabeth glanced significantly at the tumbled bed. "How many lovers do you think I have?" Then she sighed. "You were angry because you said I did not care, but now it seems that you do not care!"

He stroked her hair. "I care," he said, feeling his own heart sink again, for though the time they would be parted was not long by Sidhe standards, it would still be too long. "Trust me, my heart. I care."

 

Back | Next
Framed