by Nicole Locke
The King, seeing an easy way of appeasing at least one rich merchant, often asked him to Court. And so Father’s mistresses had begun. Alice had been surrounded by them during her brief stay. She hadn’t liked that any more than playing the game for a seal in the Tower’s darkened passageways. She shivered just thinking of the dark.
‘No, there are rumours—’ Elizabeth said.
‘Can we not talk about Father?’ Alice couldn’t take any more. She’d been back for months already, and the Christmas festivities were truly starting now. She’d thought there would be a lead or something she could follow regarding the Seal, but there was nothing. Nothing...and her family was at risk.
This was something she could not fail at.
‘What is wrong?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘Your foot is beating like a hummingbird’s heart.’
She stilled her foot, but it didn’t help her restlessness. ‘Nothing’s the matter.’
Tonight there would be plenty of distractions and she could search Lyman’s private rooms. With any luck during the mummers’ dance she could search all the rooms.
‘Well, you are certainly in a foul mood of late, and tonight, it’s worse. If you mean to find a proper suitor—’
‘Don’t. Not tonight.’
‘Why not tonight? That is why you’re here. Lyman is throwing the largest party of the season, he’s got us wearing masks, and he can’t stop staring at you.’
Lyman was no doubt looking at her breasts.
‘Although why you’re interested in him is beyond me.’
She was interested if he was a traitor. What if he asked her to dance? She didn’t know what was worse. That any one of the men she danced with could be a traitor. Or that after she’d risked her reputation by searching their private rooms she could be forced to marry one of them. How could she ever marry Lyman?
‘I believe he may be misunderstood.’
‘Speaking of which—I think our father has changed.’
Her father was currently eating himself into a stupor. ‘I thought we had finished that subject.’
Elizabeth rested her hand against her arm and Alice stopped scanning the room. ‘I’m trying to tell you there’s someone special for him. He’s been seeing only her.’
Her father had been supposed to see only their mother, but that hadn’t stopped him from being with others. Still, it was hard to be angry with her father.He was always so happy, and her mother had not been miserable. In fact, she’d adored their father. Her father, from all she could see, only cared for himself.
Alice had never understood their relationship. Maybe that was why she took things too seriously. Why she tried to help others. Because her father never thought of anyone but himself. But if she sometimes thought of others...she always thought of Hugh.
‘Where is Mary?’ she asked instead.
‘Being doted upon, as always. Her having married an even wealthier landowner has made her quite popular. She’s sitting in the other room.’
The smaller room was much warmer, with plenty of cushions and sofas. Alice had looked at it longingly before heading to the hall. She needed to find a traitor, not rest in comfort.
‘Why are we dressed for a masquerade when everyone can guess who we are anyway?’
‘There are a few who look unfamiliar,’ Elizabeth said.
‘Oh, you mean the Alistairs? Truly, no one can guess them when already she is weaving around.’
Elizabeth covered her laugh. ‘All right, maybe not those two.’
Alice sighed. ‘I can’t believe Mary’s here. She’s due any day.’
‘Nothing will stop her from visiting home during Christmas season—you know that. Although her husband is certainly trying to keep her off her feet.’
‘And where’s John?’
‘Talking with the burghers even now. He’s constantly working.’
Elizabeth sounded all too proud of that fact. As the most prosperous wool merchant and landowner, it should have been up to her father to be mayor of Swaffham, and he had played at it several years ago. Played at it poorly. When it had been suggested that John become mayor instead, her father had readily agreed. He got the power of his wealth and John got to do all the work.
Yes, the Fenton family had all the power in Swaffham. Both her sisters had married well.
And then there was her. A spy.
‘Mitchell is looking quite handsome tonight,’ Elizabeth pointed out.
Alice forced herself to concentrate on those around her. Wearing a mask, but still recognisable, Mitchell was laughing with other merchants. There was a sense of pride about him again. She was all too happy to see it.
‘He should be looking tired,’ she said teasingly.
‘Oh, you’re not turning into a tyrant, are you? You know you are lucky Mitchell has the temperament he has. Not many men would allow such industry with a woman.’
Mitchell was gracious, but he was also desperate. She and her sisters knew they were lucky that their father cared for no industry at all. Mary most of all, because she thrived on it when she lived at home. But Elizabeth and she also had an understanding, since they’d grown up with the farms and the sheep.
Although Alice cared more for helping those less fortunate, she couldn’t help but be excited by the project. Despite the weather and the season, they had been able to get more carpenters and tradesmen. The barn restoration was coming along nicely, and supplies for the Great Spinning Wheels were soon to be delivered.
‘I’m surprised you’re not exhausted,’ Elizabeth said.
She was exhausted—which didn’t help with her restlessness or her anxiety. She wanted to spend time with William, with the barn and the families it would help.
Instead she was scanning a Great Hall, with anxiety fraying her every nerve.
‘I am tired,’ she said. ‘But thrilled. You should see the barn. They are repairing the west wall and adding a fireplace, and I’m thinking we need another fireplace on the other side, too.’
‘With all that wool and wood? I can’t imagine the damage if a spark is let loose!’
‘But in the winter the women may argue on who sits near the fire.’
‘Why will the spinners argue?’ Mitchell said, joining them.
Alice moved to make room and gave him a smile. ‘In the winter, with only one fireplace, they’ll all have to take turns to sit near it.’
‘You want more fires in the building?’ Mitchell shook his head. ‘The workers have several fires lit and the supplies are lying near. Already we’ve had near misses. Can’t imagine what that would do inside a closed building.’
‘Is there something you can put between the sparks and the spinners?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘I’ll see if it’s possible,’ Mitchell said. ‘But these men have been gathered hastily, and most haven’t worked together before. Their differing opinions only increase in the worsening weather. Something happened today I’ve been wanting to tell you about.’
As Mitchell launched into a surprisingly humorous story, Alice couldn’t help laughing. Elizabeth was right. He was looking handsome tonight; he was also quite charming. How easy it would be to fall in love with him. They would have moments like these to share. They both knew the wool trade, and with his ideas and partnership, they could be successful.
Except, as handsome as he was, her heart didn’t stop at the mere thought of him. He wasn’t, nor could he ever be, Hugh.
* * *
Over the din and overly bright laughter, the sight of Alice stunned him. Hugh stood thawing from the cold in Lyman’s Great Hall, but it wasn’t the fires or candles warming him—it was her.
He had expected the crowds to hide Alice’s petite form, or her mask to cover her turned up nose, but his eyes unfailingly found her.
Her golden-brown hair gl
eamed in the candlelight. Some elaborate confection that curled and framed the face that he had never forgotten, but which had changed since he’d left. She was even more exquisitely beautiful to him than before. Tonight it was painful.
The heat of the crowd and the room had brought a flush to the creaminess of her cheeks. Her grey eyes danced behind the light blue mask more brightly than the flickering candles.
The gown she wore was a blistering bright yellow that skimmed over curves that shouldn’t be noticeable under the acres of cloth covering her, and yet the style and ties of her surcoat tightened the blue chemise beneath, accentuating what every man coveted.
There was no denying her form, no stopping his body tightening in recognising it. And he wasn’t even close to her. God, he needed to be close to her.
Ever since their meeting at the market, lust, need and raw want had haunted his days. It wasn’t because of her words, or the fact she could be the King’s mistress, but how she was with the children and workers. He’d tried to look at her as only a pawn in this game he played, but couldn’t. With her so lovely, and knowing her heart was still kind, he could barely breathe.
‘It’s hasn’t changed, has it?’ Eldric said.
He pretended to look around, though he didn’t want to see any of it. Too much reminded him of a past he wanted to forget. The fact that the town of Swaffham had become wealthier since he’d left did little to improve his mood.
‘It’s prospered since I left,’ he said.
He had some wealth in his own right and he was a knight. Any lineage he had now was his own. But returning to this town only reminded him of the time when he had been helpless against the disparity between his own life and that of Alice’s family. Of a time when he had known he wasn’t good enough for her.
Coin he might have now, but he still wasn’t good enough for her.
‘Lyman’s hall has had many improvements...’ Eldric interrupted his thoughts ‘...but we both know you were looking at her.’
‘You wouldn’t be much of a spy if you hadn’t noticed.’
‘You watch her quite a bit.’
‘Something you wouldn’t notice unless you are watching me. And is there a reason I shouldn’t watch her? Perhaps you don’t like the injuries she gives to you?’
‘Are we to talk about St Martin’s dinner again? Because I thought I’d explained my interest in her is harmless.’
‘Yet you showed it anyway.’
Hugh still didn’t know why Eldric, who had ignored Alice since then, had flirted with her that night. Had Eldric been testing his regard when it came to her? Hugh was always either near or with Alice. No doubt Eldric had his answer regarding Hugh’s feelings by now.
‘Her sister says she intends to marry. Best get used to it if you won’t pursue her.’
Hugh adjusted his shoulders. ‘Tell me again why you are here?’
‘I have told you,’ Eldric said.
He was trying to find the archer who had marked him.
‘I haven’t seen you making enquiries.’
‘Perhaps it is you who watch me?’ Eldric suggested. ‘Remember, I was here before you arrived. Maybe I should be making enquiries of you.’ Eldric took a drink and waved his goblet. ‘Anyway, it’s winter now, and I’m for warmth. The King knows where to reach me.’
And Edward knew how to reach him...and Alice. All here in Swaffham.
He knew Eldric’s duties, and he knew his own. What he still hadn’t figured out were Alice’s. Days now of watching her, and still he couldn’t come up with any answers. Who was she?
Time did change people, but her lively behaviour...her provocative words...were beyond what he’d expected. It was as if she had become someone else.
And he couldn’t accept such a change.
Naïve, perhaps, but in all the corrupted world he had hoped she remained constant. Many a dark night, after many a dark deed when he had blackened his own soul, he had thought of her. As if simply knowing her made him a better person.
Yet she was more beautiful than she had ever been. Though he wanted her more, needed her more, she had changed.
Her overly bright laughter, her extravagant gowns, her attendance at parties. Her private meeting with the King, her blunt words to him. This woman who attended tonight could command a king. She commanded him though they’d never touched.
But even so... It was too much of a change. He refused to believe her to have changed so much.
Especially in the ways she remained the same. The restoration of the barn, her laughing with that little girl, her kindness to the boy William. That was the Alice he recognised.
The other one who sparkled too brightly made him suspicious. Something was not as it should be.
As the Boar’s Head festivities spun around him, and distractions and drink flowed freely, he wondered if tonight he would find the truth.
‘The music’s good, at least,’ Eldric said. ‘The perfect opportunity to dance.’
Bemused, Hugh turned to his friend. ‘You dance?’
Eldric shrugged. ‘I’ve been known for it. Plus, there was this woman as we walked in. Did you see her?’
He had noticed no woman except Alice. He couldn’t stop thinking of what she had said to him at the market. Words that he had forced inside him, so he could do his duty, and follow her.
But he had forced them in and he couldn’t forget. They haunted him all day at the barn. Then in church there had been a flush to her cheeks, a curiosity and a hunger in her eyes that had burned through him. He had expected to see her there, but hadn’t expected—
‘Are you certain you did not see her? She came to about here.’ Eldric pointed to his lower chest. ‘And was about this big around.’
Hugh shook himself. He’d lose his head if he let his guard down. ‘It was a child.’
‘None of the children have masks,’ Eldric said. ‘And she had this look in her eyes... You didn’t see her? I would like to dance with her.’
Who he did see was Mitchell, his eyes roving over Alice as they laughed. Mitchell stepping closer to whisper in her ear.
‘Dancing’s not the reason why I’m here.’
Eldric’s brow rose. ‘There’s a reason you’re here?’
Distracted. Too comfortable. He truly would lose his head. A mere slip of his concentration and he had alluded to his orders. To watch Alice and all the Fentons, as he had told the King he would. At the same time to find some hint of a reason why Lyman would be the traitor with the Half-Thistle Seal. To at least point doubt so the King wouldn’t look too closely at him.
Hugh smiled. ‘Of course, there’s a reason. I can only supply so much ale when you’re drinking it.’
Eldric lifted his shoulder. ‘I’ve had enough of ale. I’m finding that woman.’
Hugh raised his glass as Eldric walked away. He didn’t want to move at all. From this vantage point he could watch every detail of Alice, but she hadn’t yet seen him.
What would it be like to dance with her? Had he been a spy for the King so long that all he could do was watch?
A carol had started. Groups of people were gathering in a circle, their right arms raised, their left clasping their partners. Grand circles of people that would become smaller. He knew this dance well. It was one of the few that allowed touch.
Soon either Lyman or Mitchell would ask Alice to dance. Would hold her hand as they circled each other and her skirts brushed their legs.
Like hell.
He wasn’t about to stand by watching another man...any man...hold her. Not while he had breath in his body.
* * *
Alice freely tapped her foot to release her restlessness. Elizabeth was busy talking to Mitchell and now Lyman had joined them, and she didn’t think either of them would notice.
Lyman ca
me to tell them the mummers’ dance would soon begin. It would be the Wedding Dance this year. It was one of her favourites, but she would miss it. Because when the mummers were dancing she’d make her excuses to search his rooms.
She was getting good at excusing herself. All she needed to indicate was her need for the garderobe and then simply go somewhere else. To forage through desks, wardrobes and purses if she was lucky.
Most often there wouldn’t be enough time. At least tonight there’d be entertainment. If the dances didn’t provide enough distraction, the food and talk would.
She truly did need time tonight, since she’d been unlucky in other homes she’d searched. Part of it was the lack of time she had, the other was her lack of information. The King had provided no insight as to whether the Seal was wood or metal. If it was the size of a man’s hand or as tiny as a thumb. All she knew was that the impression it made was not very big. Which meant she looked for something possibly easily hidden.
How was she supposed to find it?
What would happen if she didn’t?
‘Do you want to dance?’
Alice stopped tapping her foot and turned to Hugh, who had caught her unawares.
And he continued to catch her unawares: his appearance was startling to her every sense. It seemed impossible that he had returned to Swaffham. And after all this time it should have been impossible for her to be so affected by him. And yet she was.
Tonight his clothes were as fine as any nobleman’s. The burgundy lines of his tunic framed his lithe build and were trimmed in velvet. The silver around his belt and boots glinted. During his time here his hair had grown, curling now around his collar. None of which softened the hard slant of his jaw or his piercing storm-filled gaze.
‘Which dance?’ Her eyes strayed to the lock of hair that fell loose and soft over his forehead.
There was a quirk to his lips. ‘The one that’s beginning right now.’
Aware of eyes on their exchange, Alice carefully chose her words as she looked to Lyman and Mitchell, hoping they would get her hint. ‘Yes, I would like a dance.’
