Bessie

by Jackie Ivie

  “I’ll see the fool in a moment. The Minister of Finance can wait. All he ever tells me is the condition of my debt, anyway. Before you leave, Elizabeth, would you satisfy my curiosity?”

  The question felt like pouring brine water onto an open wound. Bessie stood on legs that didn’t feel like hers. She nodded. She didn’t dare trust her voice.

  “How did you keep a lusty man like him at bay? You had two weeks together and yet he never touched you?”

  “Who...told you such a thing?” Her voice warbled, her body swayed menacingly, but her legs held her upright.

  “He did. I would never allow an annulment if there was a child involved. You should know that of me.”

  “He lied. He did touch me.”

  “He did?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “The marriage was consummated?”

  “I…didn’t quite say that,” Bessie whispered.

  “But he did touch you. You did say that. True?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. Well and good, then. The man can’t have his annulment. Find him and tell him so.”

  Bessie’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped as the queen lifted a large sheet of parchment from her far side, ripped it cleanly in half, and then tossed it right into the flames. She watched it catch fire and burn before looking back at the monarch.

  “You’ll not...set aside the marriage?”

  The queen smiled. She kept her lips closed. Bessie had heard the gossip over her black teeth. None of it mattered. That smile looked genuine. Radiant. And completely majestic.

  “I just burned the annulment decree, Elizabeth. You watched me do so.”

  “But—.”

  “It wasn’t exactly true?”

  “Well, I—.”

  “Find the man and make it true. That is an order. Now, I really need to attend to my duties. That finance minister of mine was never the patient sort. Use the connecting door. Now, go!”

  Bessie didn’t follow one bit of protocol. She stepped down off the pedestal, tripped before catching herself. And then she was running.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “We’ve found him!”

  Bessie held her breath as Augusta spoke with someone at the door. Someone male. It sounded like Augusta’s husband, Lymon. Bessie could have asked, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was finding Devon. She eased her breath out slowly so it wouldn’t interfere with her hearing.

  “Oh! Praise the Lord! Where is he?”

  “At the parade grounds. He was tied up beside a tent.”

  Augusta sputtered. “His lordship? Surely you’re mistaken.”

  “Oh. Not the master. We’ve found the steed, Black-Heart.”

  “You haven’t located his lordship, yet?”

  “We can’t seem to find him. There’s an awful lot of folk about. Most are in costume. It’s a bit difficult to spot one particular man. But don’t give up hope. Where his horse is, he won’t be far.”

  “That’s true enough. According to everyone at Hilde, his lordship and that horse are inseparable.”

  “He wasn’t easy to unsaddle, you know. Took two of our boys to secure him. I had to keep him from bolting. He’s still upset at us. We’ll have a bit of trouble if we get near him again.”

  “He was saddled? Oh! This is terrible. I can’t tell her ladyship that! You’ve got to hide him!”

  “Aren’t you listening? I nearly got nipped for my trouble. Is there a groom that the horse trusts?”

  “I don’t know that much about the stables and such—”

  “Augusta?” Bessie called out.

  “Begging your pardon, my lady. We don’t have the best of news.”

  Augusta made as if to shut the door. Bessie swiveled on the stool, pulling a hank of hair from Roberta’s hands. The maid might have sighed, but it was barely audible.

  “Wait! James was Devon’s squire at the tourney. He can handle Black-Heart.” Bess looked toward her maid. “Do you remember, Roberta?”

  “How could I forget? That was the start of this. Augusta? You heard? Apprise Lymon of James. And if you could sit still just a bit longer, my lady? We are almost finished.”

  Bessie turned back to her image in the mirror. She watched Augusta’s reflection at the door. It wasn’t far.

  “Sir James? Does anyone know what costume he is wearing? That might help,” Lymon’s disembodied voice came through the partially opened door.

  “The lads all appear to be Roman soldiers. I don’t know if the master is wearing the same.”

  Bessie swiveled again. Roberta clicked her tongue as Bessie’s hair pulled out of her hand again.

  “That’s right! I heard him saying something about it...um. At the lower bailey. The other night. Devon will be a centurion. Go! And quickly! There can’t be many of them.”

  Lymon answered. Augusta turned to relay his words.

  “Lymon says there are so many, they look like a Roman legion, my lady,” Augusta replied.

  “Roman soldiers?” Bessie’s shoulders fell. It matched her heart.

  “It must be an easy costume. Men never did have any imagination.”

  “I’ll remember that tonight, Gusty.” The male voice answered.

  “Lymon! Hush!”

  “Your husband calls you Gusty? That’s rather...charming. I think. Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Bess turned slowly back to her reflection.

  “You need to go now, Lymon. This is highly irregular. You’ll get spotted outside these chambers, and then where will we be? Go back to the parade grounds. Wait a bit. I’ll join you when I can. It should be a bit easier now that we know the master is one of those Roman soldiers.”

  “How will we know which one is his lordship?” Lymon asked.

  “Just look for the biggest, strongest one. He’ll have a bevy of ladies about him, too, if I don’t miss my guess. Now, go! All of you.”

  “Oh, Roberta. Must you?”

  Bessie asked it of Roberta’s image in the mirror. She watched as Roberta’s normal smiling face turned to a frown.

  “Oh. Dear. Forgive my rash tongue, love. I’m sorry.”

  “And well, you should be. This is your fault,” Augusta replied from behind them.

  “I don’t know how. I sent her gift-wrapped in little more than thread and air, to her own husband’s bed and now everything is my fault? I think I shall go search out the fellow in your stead. And you may have an easier time with this pearl thing, Augusta. Here. Take over the weaving.”

  “If it’s all right with her ladyship?”

  Bessie nodded. Roberta transferred locks of hair from her hands to Augusta’s. The exchange was reflected in the mirror.

  “Very good. And don’t you fret, my lady. We’ll find the master for you. We found his horse, didn’t we?”

  “How are you going to keep him from leaving on it?”

  “Take heart. We’ve got our boys guarding him.”

  “That won’t do much good. Devon will order them aside.”

  “If you cry again, you might ruin the black outlining about your eyes. We don’t want that, now do we?”

  “No,” Bess sniffed.

  “Besides, the lads will track him if he leaves.” Augusta turned to yell over her shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Oh! And find that Master James. Tell him Lady Bess needs him, immediate-like.”

  “Is he dressed as a Roman soldier, too?” came the male voice again.

  “Oh. Please. I already told you about a man’s lack of imagination. Of course, he will be.”

  “How are we supposed to find the younger one, when we can’t even locate his lordship?”

  “Because I will be helping! Come along, Lymon. Let’s off!” Roberta closed the door behind her.

  “Oh, this is terrible! You’ve got to hurry, Augusta. I’ve got to get down there! I’ll have more luck. I know I will.”

  “We’ve nearly got you ready. Please don’t go upsetting yourself again. We’ve about reached perfection. Another bout of te
ars may ruin things. Is that what you want?”

  “Can you hurry?”

  “I am doing my best, my lady. Forgive my clumsiness, but I’ve been running back from the tent city. Why, I’ve just got my wind back.”

  “You say Black-Heart was saddled? That means he was leaving...and no one can even find him! I can’t wait much longer to search him out. I can’t! We have to hide Black-Heart. We do. He won’t leave without his horse. Send an order for Sir Geoffrey. He could help, too.”

  “I’ll do it directly. But, he might be a mite difficult to spot, as well. He’s up to his neck in trouble.”

  “Sir Geoffrey?”

  “The same. He appears smitten with Miss Olivia. He doesn’t know what kind of trouble he’ll have.”

  “Olivia? She is with Sir Geoffrey? Are you certain?”

  “I’d be able to spot that young lady just about anywhere, even decked out in feathers as she is.”

  “Oh! This is worse than terrible. It won’t do at all, and I won’t have it. Where is Alicia?”

  “Miss Alicia is a trifle harder to spot. She’s got herself swathed in red taffeta with yards of red lace. As do a thousand other folk. I don’t know what she’s portraying, but it appears to be quite popular.”

  “A thousand? How can there be a thousand? You must be exaggerating, Augusta.”

  “I think you will be surprised, my lady. Your fete appears to be everything you wished for. Maybe more. I don’t know where so many folks come from, but there’s ever so many.”

  “Oh! How will we ever find him?”

  “Here. Let me get you a handkerchief. Just touch a bit at the corners. That’s it. If you go a-washing away all the black about your eyes, it will drip on your gown. You’ll be a sea creature with black spots.”

  Bessie held the linen square to the corner of an eye, pulled in a tremulous breath, and held it. Then, she let it back out. Removed the material. Regarded the black smudge on it.

  “You are right, Augusta. I am being faint of heart. I just can’t believe so much can happen in such a little bit of time! This morn, I truly thought I’d lost him. Then I found out that I hadn’t lost him because he knew all along. Then, before I can get to him, I find him taken from me again. Then, when I get another chance with him...no one can find him!”

  “A body can get worn out just listening to that. It will all come right in the end. You’ll see. There! I’ll leave a bit unfinished at the ends. You ready? Let’s get a look at you. Oh my. I’m a bit leery of letting you from the chambers without an escort. That I am.”

  “Oh Augusta! You are too flattering, but I do love you for it.”

  “My lady. Please. ’Tis not flattery. Take a look yourself.”

  Bessie turned to the silvered disk on the wall and caught her breath. “Oh, Augusta! You’ve done it perfectly. I don’t wish one more strand lifted. Not one.”

  The maids had been lifting sections of hair and braiding it with pearls for what seemed hours. Then, they’d coiled the pearl-laced braids about her head. It resembled a crown. Since Augusta hadn’t finished, there were several braids intermingled with the loose locks that reached Bessie’s knees. It was unbelievable. And exactly what a sea nymph should look like.

  “Perhaps we should powder it.” Augusta suggested.

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s coming into fashion. It might look striking against the blue and green of your gown.”

  “Oh, no. Never. Devon likes red hair, remember?”

  Bess spun and regarded her image. This was precisely how she wanted to look. Possibly better. The gown she’d designed was in a deep blue-green satin. The bodice was square cut and trimmed with opalescent colored lace that had little seed pearls sewn throughout. The same lace had been affixed to her skirt, forming a series of tiers. The design was totally against fashion. Her skirt was sewn from the same blue-green material, but it was close to the body. There wasn’t room for one petticoat. She had an overlay created by hundreds of little squares cut from an iridescent silk. They were affixed at the tops of each tier. Every time she moved, the overlay flashed, looking almost like water. And it changed color.

  Oh! This was perfect!

  Bessie arranged the waterfall of pearl-laced hair about her shoulders. Swiveled at the waist and looked over at Augusta. And then she winked.

  “Oh, my. Oh, dear.”

  “I hope you mean that in a good way, Augusta.”

  “I have never seen the like. I’m speechless, I am. Perhaps we’d best wait up here for them to find the master and bring him to you.”

  “Oh, no. Not in a hundred lifetimes. I’m not waiting another moment. I’ve got the most handsome man in the world to find and captivate.”

  “You will need a guard, you will.”

  “I am ready, I think.”

  “We’d best see to covering you first. With a very large shawl.”

  “I am done with hiding, Augusta. No weeds. No large cumbersome dresses. No unwieldy shawls or cloaks. All I am wearing tonight is a little mask.”

  “Dear me. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Will Lord Hildebrand be able to resist me this time, do you think?”

  “If you weren’t displaying your legs...perhaps? No. He is already netted and caught, my lady. The moment he sees you.”

  “You can really see that?”

  Bessie put one foot forward and watched in the mirror as it seemed to outline her thigh. Her eyes widened, and Augusta might even have heard the gasp.

  “I can see every bit of you, I believe.”

  “Nonsense. I am completely covered.” A knock interrupted her. “Oh! Can you see who is at the door? It might be word of him.”

  “Bess? My lady? Some fellow named Lymon has brought me. He says you need me?”

  A Roman centurion stepped in, passed Augusta as he spoke, and then he pulled his helmet off. Augusta stood behind him and folded her arms.

  “Oh, James! You came!” Bessie took a step toward him but stopped as his mouth fell open. “Thank heavens! Please say you’ll help me!”

  “I...don’t know what to say,” he replied.

  “Say you will! Say you’ll keep Black-Heart from bolting. You’ve got to.”

  “I didn’t know you were this—”

  “I’ve got to reach Devon! You’ve got to help! You’ve got to stop him!”

  “You’ve a waist so tiny...I think I could span it in my hands. When I think of how ugly I thought you, I—”

  Bess almost giggled. She couldn’t help it. It was embarrassing and yet thrilling at the same time. She wasn’t used to it. “Stop that. Or I’m having you shown out.”

  “Oh. Forgive me, my lady. I just—I’m without words. What did you wish of me again?”

  “You’ve got to help me stop him!”

  “Stop who?”

  “Devon. He asked the queen to annul our marriage this morn. She agreed unless I get him to change his mind.”

  “He did what? Devon? My brother? He doesn’t need to change his mind. He’s done lost it. Where is he?”

  “We can’t find him! I’ve had my closest servants searching since we arrived. No one has seen him.”

  “Now that I think on it...I don’t believe I’ve seen him, either. I wasn’t looking for him, though. Is he still here?”

  “Oh. He’s here. We just don’t know where.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “We’ve got Black-Heart.”

  James raised his brows. “He probably gave you some trouble.”

  “He nearly bit my manservant. That’s why we need you. You’ve got to hide Black-Heart for me.”

  “How do you propose I do that?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know anything about horses! You were Devon’s squire. You have a knack with horses. I’ve seen you.”

  “You mistook my meaning. I’m saying Black-Heart will be impossible to hide. All Devon has to do is whistle and that steed’s at his side. What power do I have against that?”
/>   “Oh dear! I never thought—! What am I going to do?”

  “Now. Now. Here. I’ve got another linen right here, your ladyship.”

  Bessie took the cloth Augusta proffered and dabbed at her lashes.

  “Where is the horse? I’ll do my best.”

  “Wait!” Bessie put up her free hand. “I’ve an idea. I think I had some mares delivered in the growing season. I’m almost certain Sir Geoffrey ordered something like a dozen brood mares. They’ll be in a separate stable, away from the other stallions. If Black-Heart manages to get into that stable, do you think he’d answer Devon’s whistle, then?”

  “Hard to say.” James answered. But he was chuckling.

  “Oh, James! You have to keep the horse hidden! Please? I can’t allow Devon to leave me. You’ve got to help me.”

  “Of course. Don’t sorry, Bess. I’ll see Black-Heart delivered to his new harem. And I’ll ensure my brother doesn’t leave you, if I have to tether him to a tree. You can count on me.”

  “Oh, thank you, James. Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll repay it, but I will. I swear.”

  “You already have. You gave me faith and hope...and you were right. I have spoken with the baroness. She knows I will be waiting. Now. Where is that Lymon fellow who brought me?”

  James opened the door to shout, but it wasn’t necessary. Lymon was in the hallway. Roberta was just arriving. James joined them in the hall. Bess heard male voices murmuring, and the sound of retreating footsteps. And then Roberta came into her room.

  “You see? I told you it would all come right in the end,” Augusta commented.

  “Good heavens, Lady Bess! We’d best find you a cloak.”

  “You like it, Roberta?”

  “Let me call some guards. We can’t let you journey off by yourself looking like that.”

  “I’ve been telling her the very same thing, but will she listen to your sister? No.”

  “All right, you two. I’ll accept a guard or two. I’d appreciate the escort, I think.”

  “Thank goodness. She always did listen to you, Roberta.”

  “You call this listening?”

  Roberta reopened the door. Started shouting for Lyman to send guards. The sound echoed. Bessie’s shoulders sagged.