In Caer Mordwyn Prince Vidal seethed. The journey so swiftly undertaken by Elizabeth had caught him entirely by surprise. He had no opportunity to send Francis Howard and his men to attack the party. Renard had not warned him that Elizabeth might be allowed to leave the Court. The last time he had spoken to the Imperial ambassador, Renard had been certain that Mary was convinced Elizabeth must remain at court where she could be watched.
It was awkward working with a mortal who could not be brain burned, who must believe that he was obeying his Imperial master when that Imperial master wanted the opposite of what Vidal wanted. Unfortunately Emperor Charles did not want Elizabeth dead—and Vidal had no way to reach Charles to change his mind. The Dark Court in Spain and the Low Countries was very weak. They would give him no help and absolutely refused to chance any confrontation with the Bright Court of Melusine.
There was enough misery generated by Charles's and his son Philip's attempts to wipe out Protestantism in the Low Countries to keep the Dark Court well fed. They would brook no interference with Charles. He was growing old. They wanted no pressures on him that could damage him in any way. So Vidal had no way to reassure Renard that arranging Elizabeth's death would please his master. He was forced to use compulsions that were in a separate place in Renard's mind.
Vidal arranged that Renard find a suitable man among the embassy staff and order him to kill Elizabeth. Renard had enough free will in that "hole" in his mind to make promises to his agent to see that he had a suitable weapon and suitable clothing. When the first attempt failed, the "hole" called Renard to Otstargi, who was waiting for news. Otstargi gave other instructions and a vial of clear liquid to be added to a glass of wine for the agent. When the second attempt on Elizabeth failed, the "hole" closed. Renard had no knowledge, no memory, of ever having thought of doing Lady Elizabeth any physical harm.
Now Elizabeth had escaped the Court with all the public appearances that made her vulnerable. She would be totally inaccessible to anyone except her trusted servants. A mortal messenger would not be allowed into her presence at all or so surrounded by her people that he could not touch her. A Dark Sidhe could possibly throw a knife accurately enough to reach her at such a distance, but no Dark Sidhe would endanger himself so much for Vidal, and besides that accursed Elizabeth would see through any disguise and expose the attacker.
Vidal shuddered. If the Dark Sidhe were recognized for what he was, Oberon would hear of it. There had been a Thought raking Underhill too recently. Something had disturbed Oberon and sent his Thought seeking. Not that Vidal was willing to touch that Thought to find an answer to the question of what it was seeking, but just in case . . . perhaps he would abandon attempts to rid the world of Elizabeth by mortal means.
Would that mean she would escape him? Vidal's hands, which had been lying peacefully on the arms of the cushioned chair even while unpleasant thoughts racked him, curled. His sharp, diamond-hard nails scraped along the polished Sidhe bones that made up the chair arms. With a faint screech one of the bones cracked and then shattered. Vidal was staring down at the fragments in his lap and on the floor when the door of the private parlor opened and Aurilia came in.
"I felt your unease, my lord," she said, "and your thought that Elizabeth is loose. Is that so much worse for us?"
Shocked at the loss of control that allowed his thoughts to be read, for once Vidal did not stop to consider the advantages and disadvantages of actually speaking the truth to Aurilia. "It is much worse," he said. "You remember how it was at Hatfield. She sees no one except the faithful. And she herself can see through any disguise so I cannot send one of our own enchanted into a form of her own familiar. I do not know how I can reach her as long as she is not forced into formal appearances."
Aurilia said nothing for a moment, only coming forward and seating herself in the chair, this one of scented precious woods not bones, beside his. Then, her voice uncertain she said, "There is a Thought roaming all through Underhill." Aurilia shivered. "It touched me." Her voice shook. "I had to drink Albertus's potion to calm myself. It is horrible to be touched by Oberon's Thought."
Vidal did not turn his head to look at her, but he nodded. The Thought had not touched him; he had learned from the mist's bindings to withdraw deep inside himself.
"I am aware."
"Was he seeking us?" Aurilia bit her lip and then said in a rush, "If Titania is prodding him about protecting Elizabeth, perhaps you should give over trying to be rid of her, my lord. Mary already hates her. We have never touched Mary. We should leave Elizabeth's fate in Mary's hands without trying to help."
"That is a wise thought, Aurilia." Vidal did not smile, but he was pleased at having maneuvered Aurilia into stating aloud and approving what he had been thinking. Then he added, "Rhoslyn is there, but she has never advocated physical harm to Elizabeth; she has only protected Mary. Oberon would not object to that."
Aurilia was silent for another moment, then said thoughtfully "I have noticed that power is again flowing into Caer Mordwyn. It seems that many are less and less happy with Mary's reign. Perhaps we should work in the other direction. Instead of removing Elizabeth, we should make sure she never comes to the throne by giving Mary a living heir."
Vidal turned not only his head but his body in Aurilia's direction. "That is another wise thought," he said, nodding. "I know through Renard that the queen is negotiating for a marriage to the son of Renard's master."
"So? That makes everything easier, although Mary is not young and may not conceive easily."
Now Vidal smiled. "We can help with that, I think. I must consult our sorcerers but it might be possible to arrange that one of the Dark Sidhe be disguised as her husband—as soon as we get a look at him—and get her with child."
"Sidhe cannot breed with mortal . . . not without spells that even make me think twice," Aurilia said, frowning.
Vidal laughed. "It need not be Sidhe substance that is placed within Mary."
Aurilia nodded at that but then her frown reappeared. "No suspicion must be aroused about the conception." Her brow cleared and she nodded again. "I think I will send Albertus back to the mortal world. Can you not arrange through Renard that he be taken on as one of the physicians who attends the queen?"
"Why not?" Vidal said slowly, brows lifted. "Indeed, why not? Many of the physicians at Court already know him because of his attendance on the dead king. And I doubt he made them dislike him. I must ask him about that. Yes, send an imp for him, Aurilia. You have had a very clever idea, but I want to be sure he understands his purpose."
Aurilia did not look happy. "I think Albertus would be useful to us as one of the queen's physicians, but only if his mind is his own. He is very clever, Vidal. Give him a purpose and let him know he will be rewarded and he can accomplish much. Remember it is likely he kept the little king alive for an extra week or two. But if you damage his mind he will fail."
"Oh very well, very well. I will not touch your pet's mind. Send an imp for him. No, don't bother. Let us together bring him from his laboratory. It will impress him with our power, remind him that we can seize him wherever he is and bring him to us. And it will not disturb the functioning of his—" Vidal sneered "—precious mind."
Aurilia was annoyed at Vidal's attitude. She felt he was backsliding. For a long time after he escaped the mist, he had been less self-important, more awake to the uses he could make of others. She hoped she would not need to circle around him to accomplish anything as she had in the past. However, actually it would do no harm at all to throw a fright into Albertus, so she merely imaged Albertus's laboratory for Vidal and let him snatch the physician from that chamber to this private parlor.
The sudden translocation seemed to have accomplished its purpose more thoroughly than Aurilia had expected. Albertus gave Vidal one wide-eyed glance and sank to the floor, head bent, hands folded prayerfully.
"What is your will, my lord, my lady?"
"My will is that you obey Prince Vidal," Aurilia said.
That would flatter Vidal and accomplish what was, after all her own purpose. It was her idea to produce an heir out of Mary. The woman was not young and had always been sickly. With any luck she would die while her child was an infant. That would mean a regency, which would make everyone unhappy and very likely cause Elizabeth and her partisans to rebel, which would mean civil war. Aurilia ran her tongue gently over her lower lip in anticipation of the rich harvest of pain and misery to be garnered. She paid no more attention to Albertus.
Vidal was flattered by Aurilia's all encompassing order to Albertus and satisfied, too, with the obvious terror the kneeling man felt. Clearly it would not be necessary to place any compulsion in Albertus's mind. He would obey implicitly out of fear.
"I have information that Mary's government is negotiating with the emperor Charles to marry Mary to his son, Philip. It would be best for the Dark Court if Mary had an heir. You are to go back to the mortal world where I will arrange to have you appointed as one of the queen's physicians. You will do everything in your power to keep Mary in good health until she is married. One way or another I will see that she conceives. Then you will make sure she bears a healthy babe."
Albertus could hardly believe his ears. When he had been snatched out of the laboratory and deposited before Aurilia and Vidal, he had been certain his rebellious intention of somehow foiling Vidal's plans to destroy Elizabeth had been detected. He had expected a punishment so terrible that he could not even imagine it. Instead, he was being given orders that would gain him praise and status in the mortal world as well as satisfying his masters Underhill.
Slowly his shaking stilled and he fixed his full attention on Vidal's words. He would think of Mary, of keeping Mary healthy, of increasing her fertility. If either Vidal or Aurilia looked into his mind, he would be thinking of potions to improve her health.
"I will do my very best, my lord," Albertus said, still kneeling. "I beg you to consider that I could only extend the little king's life for a week or two. Mary, of course, is only frail, not dying. I may be more successful with her, but she has long-trusted physicians. I may not be able to treat her or influence her."
"I will arrange that," Vidal said. "You will be welcome to Mary and trusted by her. You need only take care not to make the other physicians jealous."
"That I can do, my lord. Will I go as myself, as I did when I served the late king?"
Vidal reached out and lightly stroked Aurilia's arm. When she turned to him he passed Albertus's question to her. She looked at her servant and touched the very surface of his mind lightly. He was excited, thinking already of what herbs would best soothe and strengthen the queen. He was looking forward to being a Court physician again. He had enjoyed working for the late king, regretted he could not keep him alive longer, and knew just how to ingratiate himself with the other physicians. Aurilia smiled.
"Yes, let us send him as himself. The queen's physicians know of him but have no reason to be envious. Renard's recommendation will perhaps wake some animosity, but that cannot be helped, and allowing him to keep the same character will prevent any accidents that might be caused by his confusing his identities."
"Do you need anything from your laboratory here to take with you?" Vidal asked.
"No, lord. I dare not take anything from here. If you furnish gold, I can buy what I need in the mortal world."
"There will be gold in your chamber in Otstargi's house."
Ashridge was much closer to London than Hatfield, so even with necessary stops to rest the horses, they arrived well before sunset. A courier sent ahead as soon as Elizabeth had received Mary's congé had warned the servants who had remained to care for the house. Fires were lit, beds were made, dust sheets were removed from any furniture left when the house had last been occupied. A mad rush ensued to ready a meal for those arriving.
It was, of course, impossible to arrange everything perfectly on half a day's notice, particularly when the incoming servants considered themselves superior (because they had accompanied their employers) to those left behind. Fortunately Dunstan settled quarrels and assigned duties before open feuding that could affect the comfort of Elizabeth and her ladies could begin.
Sir Edward was also busy, sending trusted guards to inspect all the rooms, the stables, and the outbuildings. Several relatives of the resident servants were routed out and sent away. Ordinarily such hangers on were not disturbed—they were useful for errands and odd jobs and only cost a penny when employed rather than a regular salary—but Sir Edward was wary because of what he still believed were attempts on Elizabeth, not Mary. Finally, he set a guard and arranged for men to rotate on that duty.
Elizabeth did not trouble herself with the problems of arrival. Warm from riding, she wrapped her fur-lined cloak tightly around her, settled her new sable hood on her head, and announced that she would walk in the garden with Lord Denno.
Mary's ladies gaped and groaned; everyone was sore and tired from being shaken and banged in the travel wagon. No one wanted to walk in a cold, dead garden, and Elizabeth's long-time maids of honor made no move to follow her, merely dropping curtsies before holding out their hands to the leaping fire. Kat spoke, but she only warned Elizabeth to take care not to get chilled. Elizabeth Marberry, looking around at the women clustered near the fire, rose crookedly to her feet and reached for her cloak.
"Where are you going, Elizabeth?" Kat asked.
"Does not Lady Elizabeth need an attendant?"
Kat laughed. "Not in this weather, in her own house, with Sir Edward's guards posted and . . . I think that was Gerrit who was following her when she went out the door or perhaps it was Shaylor. I assure you that either of the men would fling himself between Lady Elizabeth and any danger—as would Lord Denno, who is a skilled swordsman."
Elizabeth Marberry was equally sure of that; she was not worried about Lady Elizabeth's safety. "But . . . But . . ."
She stared around at the women, casually rubbing their bruises, resettling their garments, and murmuring to each other. They would not care if Lady Elizabeth met with rebels or planned to overthrow her sister. They would be blind and deaf to her treason, as would the guard. But Marberry had been tasked with preventing such acts. She did not dare even hint of her real purpose to these women, who all seemed to think the sun rose and set at the order of their lady and that was the way things should be.
"But why?" she finally got out. "Why should Lady Elizabeth go walk in a freezing garden in the middle of the winter?"
Kat raised her eyebrows. "To quarrel with Lord Denno, of course. She has been spoiling for a good fight with him for weeks."
Elizabeth Marberry shook her head in disbelief and angry helplessness. Her one comfort was that because they had left Court so suddenly it was unlikely Elizabeth could already have arranged to meet with any anti-Catholic faction.
"But do you not think that is a strange thing to do?" Eleanor Gage asked anxiously.
Kat laughed again. "Not for Lady Elizabeth. She and Lord Denno have been walking in winter gardens and arguing about what to plant where since Lady Elizabeth was eight years old."
"Aren't you cold?" Denoriel asked Elizabeth anxiously. "The sun is setting. We are sure to arouse suspicions coming out here alone like this."
"We won't stay long. Kat will tell them that we are arguing about what to plant. Lady Alana disappeared as soon as I had leave to go, and I didn't know whether she had spoken to you."
"No. She didn't even go home. I think she went off to Cymry."
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth sighed. "I knew she was longing to go, but I was so frightened I couldn't let her leave me. She was my one comfort."
"She understood."
"Oh, Denno, it was horrible." Elizabeth swayed closer so that her shoulder touched Denoriel's arm. She could feel the tension in him as he resisted the impulse to hug her. Gerrit, behind them, could not hear what they said, but he could see them. She sighed again. "Everything I did was wrong and made Mary angrier. And I know that Gardiner was urging Mary to send me to the Tower."
"I do not think he will be successful. Rhoslyn has convinced Mary that worse will befall her if she harms you. That, of course, is a double-edged sword, in that it increases Mary's fear of you, but there is a limit to what Rhoslyn can do."
"I know." Elizabeth's voice was thin and hard. "I am Ann Boleyn's daughter and a heretic, too, no matter how many Masses I attend."
Denoriel chuckled. "Well, you are."
"The worst kind," Elizabeth said, finding a small smile. "I do not care what rite is used to worship God, and I do not believe God cares either." She shook her head, dismissing that hopeless topic. "Really why I came out was to warn you that the whole household has been seeded with Mary's and Gardiner's spies. You will not be able to be at home as you were in Hatfield."
"That is not exactly a surprise. I will set my Gate in your dressing room, behind your gowns and be ready with the Don't-see-me. Do you want me to listen and see if I can determine which of the women are spies?"
"No, no. Mary is not very subtle." Elizabeth laughed. "She simply presented me with two ladies as if I would not guess they were urged upon me to spy. I wonder if she expected me to reject them? Mary herself might have done so. She is devastatingly honest." She laughed softly again. "One I have already subverted, but the other, Elizabeth Marberry, does not like me at all."
"I could listen to the servants, I suppose, but there are so many of them."
Elizabeth winkled a hand out of her cloak and took Denoriel's for a moment. "No, that would take too much power. You would be drained. Anyway Sir Edward, Dunstan, and Blanche have mostly discovered which of the new servants and armsmen are spying."
"Dismiss them?"
"I daren't do that." Elizabeth shivered. "Da said I must seem ignorant. Then the spies will actually work to my benefit as they can testify I had no commerce with Mary's enemies."
"Unless they lie, but the accusation of servants without real proof, especially servants that can be proven spies, will not move the Council against you. Anyway with Roslyn beside her it is not Mary I fear. Harry says it is Gardiner and Renard who are the worst danger. You must write nothing, except letters to Mary if you like."
Suddenly Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. "How I miss Edward! I did so enjoy writing to him and having his answers. Mary does not care about books or my lessons."
"I am sorry, my love, but we could not save him and I think he would not have been happy, where Harry is happy."
"That is true, and Edward had changed. He loved me, I know, but he was growing as rigid in his way as Mary is in hers. I am sure he signed that 'devise' of Northumberland's willingly because he felt a woman should not rule. Too bad we could not take him and show him your queen."
Denoriel laughed. "That would have cured him. Come, love, you are shivering. We have been out long enough. I will be careful when I come for you."
Elizabeth breathed a long sigh of relief and hoped for pleasure and caught Denoriel's hand again. "I cannot wait," she breathed and then as they turned to go back to the house and would pass Gerrit, she said sharply, "I do not see why I should not have an arbor with milliflora roses near enough to be seen from the windows of the chamber in which we dine."
"Because," Denoriel replied, not loudly but clearly enough for Gerrit to hear, "the roses need sun, and if you place the arbor there, the house will throw a shadow over it for most of the day."
They passed the guardsman, who grinned and shook his head as he fell in behind them. He had heard similar arguments for at least twelve years. Soon the question rose about whether a rose arbor was suitable elsewhere in the garden. Denoriel spoke of the delicacy of roses, of their falling prey to all sorts of blights; Elizabeth shrugged the problem away. It was for her gardeners to worry about. She admired the flowers and the scent of roses.
The discussion had passed on to what mixture of flowers should be in the knot garden by the time Gerrit opened the doors and servants removed outerwear. Elizabeth and Denoriel reached the parlor where her ladies waited. Nyle opened the door and Elizabeth went in, her voice raised in defense of primroses. Denoriel spoke less loudly, but he stubbornly claimed primroses grew too tall and had a limited period of blossoming.
Eleanor Gage and Elizabeth Marberry drew sharp breaths of surprise over Lord Denno's tone, but as she rose to greet Lady Elizabeth, Dorothy Stafford, far from showing surprise, said her mother had developed a kind of primrose that grew low to the ground. Denoriel said he had heard of it, but also heard the flowers were small. Kat agreed that the flowers were small, but had been told that the colors were very intense. The discussion became quite general until Elizabeth seated herself and gestured for a stool to be brought for Lord Denno.
"Sit, sit," she said to him with a brilliant smile. "I will leave the flowers as they are this spring. Dorothy will bring me some of her mother's primroses when they come into bloom and then I will decide. You will stay and have an evening meal with us, will you not, Lord Denno?"
Gage and Marberry were surprised again, but a single glance around showed that none of the others regarded Elizabeth's invitation as in any way unusual. And when Gage repeated her question about Lord Denno riding back to London at night, he laughed and confirmed Dorothy Stafford's and Alice Finch's assumptions that he had a lodge close by.
Everything else said about Lord Denno also seemed true. Food was served and he made teasing conversation with Kat and the other women, who knew him well. He and Elizabeth had several short differences of opinion, during which he answered the high-born lady with complete freedom. He was not at all subservient yet there was nothing in his manner that anyone, even Elizabeth Marberry, could take as too familiar. So, indeed, would an old friend who had dandled a young lady on his knee speak.
They talked about everything. Elizabeth's progress in her lessons in mathematics and navigation produced some hearty laughter that neither Gage nor Marberry understood. Whether she would keep up her Greek—Lord Denno commented on the differences between the classical language and that of the traders in modern Greece with whom he dealt. And Alice Finch, who often tread innocently where others feared to go, asked if Lady Elizabeth was now considering learning Spanish, since she was already fluent in French and Italian.
Lord Denno prevented the awkward pause that would have followed Alice's question by nodding briskly. "Since you already know French and Italian, you will find Spanish very easy," he said, apparently ignorant of or indifferent to any special implication in Alice's remark. "They have most excellent wines and I have done some trading and visited the country."
"Have you?" Eleanor Gage asked eagerly. "Oh, Lord Denno, do tell us what it is like. The queen will likely marry Prince Philip of Spain. Do you know anything about him?"
"Only the most common talk of the country, that he is a most estimable person but rather grave and reserved. As to the country, there is a great deal to be told and perhaps I will save that for another day. If Lady Elizabeth will give me leave, I think I should go now and come back tomorrow? With all the trinkets I have gathered up for her and her ladies, which are lying in my lodge."
A burst of expectation and thanks and pleas to Lady Elizabeth to invite Lord Denno for the next day broke out. Kat silenced the maids of honor and Elizabeth held out her hand to Lord Denno who rose to his feet as she gave the requested invitation and he accepted it.
"Then I will see you again very soon, my lord," Elizabeth said, smiling brilliantly at him as he bowed over her hand.
"Very soon," he replied.