Courtly Scandals

by Erin Kane Spock

  He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. “Mary, you amaze me.”

  She had no answer as sleep took her.

  Chapter Eight:

  On the Fifth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me Five Gold Rings . . .

  Mary woke alone to sounds of loud thuds and masculine curses. Her door was closed, but she could hear that the Oxford household was up and active. Doing what? Moving furniture?

  She was washing her face with the ice-cold water from the ewer as one of the servant girls came in.

  “I do beg your pardon, mistress. I would have come sooner to stoke the fire and warm the water, but the household was in an uproar.”

  “I can hear that. What has happened?” Her amusement was gone in an instant as a sudden thought hit her. “Is Lady Oxford well?”

  “Oh, aye. But she is running this way and that, trying to organize all of her lord husband’s things.”

  The Earl of Oxford. Mary had forgotten about him for a wonderful few moments.

  “His things?”

  “Yes, mistress. He is moving in to these apartments until he is recovered. He says he cannot sleep another night in my lady’s bed, for all that she did not sleep there herself. Lady Oxford is setting up new rooms for him and his entourage. Half of her ladies have been moved to other quarters, not near enough to tend at all.”

  The palace was huge and almost every room opened into another—logistically it was probably simple for the Oxford entourage to commandeer a few more rooms and consider them included in their existing apartment. But with Oxford in residence, it was probably wise to limit the contact he’d have with Anne’s ladies.

  The servant girl placed a new log on the fire and set the pitcher to warm. “Bonnie will be back with your breakfast, mistress. She will help you dress.” With a reverance, the girl backed out of the room.

  True to the serving girl’s word, another girl came in with Mary’s breakfast.

  “Bonnie, is it?”

  “Aye mistress. I am new here with the Oxfords.”

  Mary placed a piece of smoked fish on toast and took a bite. Most of the servants were new to the Oxford’s staff. “Welcome to the family.”

  The girl did not pick up on Mary’s sarcasm. “Thank you, mistress. Lady Oxford seems like a wonderful mistress.”

  “Oh, indeed.” Mary chewed another bite, trying not to laugh at the girl’s naïveté.

  Servants did not last long in the Oxford house. This one, Bonnie, was plump and fairly plain, so it was possible she would not draw the eye of the earl. A position within the Oxford household was probably a dream come true for those that did not know better. Mary offered a silent prayer that this girl would not be poorly treated.

  “Can I help you with your dress, mistress?”

  Mary swallowed her food quickly and hopped down off the bed. “Yes, please.”

  She chose a gown from her armoire, a subdued but elegant gray velvet trimmed in mulberry grosgrain. “This will do.”

  Bonnie picked up the dress, her distaste for the gown clear on her face. “If you say so, mistress.”

  Mary almost laughed at the girl’s reaction. It was the plainest gown she had. “Worry not, Bonnie. I will wear something gayer to the festivities this evening.” She didn’t want to go, but she didn’t want to stay here either, especially with Oxford so close. She could find a cozy corner tonight and enjoy the mulled wine and sweets at least. “Do you know what is planned yet?”

  “Oh, aye! After the feast, and a feast it is, there is to be a masque. Queen Elizabeth Herself is to preside. Even Lady Oxford plans to go. ’Tis a shame the Earl of Oxford will not be able to attend. I heard the kitchens had started the preparation for almost a hundred birds.”

  A masque! It could not be more perfect. She was, at best, the laughing stock of court. If she wore a mask, it was possible, probable even, that no one would know who she was. She wondered if she could get a wig . . .

  Bonnie was finished with Mary’s corset and hoops. The girl was efficient and made short work of the dress and started brushing out Mary’s hair.

  “There we are, mistress.” Bonnie smiled, proud of her work.

  Bonnie had done a very nice plaited coronet and secured the brimless hat to her crown, the short cylinder fitting perfectly into the design of her braid. “Excellent work. I hope all goes well for you in the Oxford household. If you ever need a reference, I will be happy to provide it.”

  Bonnie gave a quick reverance, looking confused at the bizarre statement. “Thank you, mistress.”

  Mary followed her out of the room.

  And into absolute chaos.

  Anne rushed toward her and placed both hands on Mary’s shoulders. “Mary, finally you are awake. Please direct Master Hickles to the chamber off my own and explain where to put the earl’s personal items.”

  Mary did not have time to consider the request before following Master Hickles through Lady Oxford’s chamber and into the musty one beyond.

  The man did not even look up as he began unpacking the Earl of Oxford’s belongings into the bureau under the mirror. “Master Hickles, is it? You are a member of the Earl of Oxford’s household?”

  He paused a moment and gave a brief reverance, still not meeting her eye. “Aye, mistress. I am his valet.”

  Mary drew a deep breath. “So I do not need to instruct you about his lordship’s things.” It was a statement, not a question. Thank goodness she did not have to be part of this. It was odd enough that Anne had asked it of her.

  Master Hickles did not respond.

  Mary left the room. Hopefully she could remove Anne from this melee. It was not good for her to be overexcited. Only days ago she had been ill from the pregnancy, followed by the fear for her husband. If Mary could . . .

  “Why, ’tis the strumpet in the flesh.” The Earl of Oxford’s caustic words interrupted Mary’s thoughts.

  Of course, she was passing through Anne’s room, the one which was so distasteful to the injured earl.

  “God give you good health, my lord.” Mary gave a respectful reverance and then turned to go.

  “This is all your fault, you know.”

  Mary sighed. “I did not stab you. You know that.”

  “As if you could.” His voice was weak, but his power to sneer was strong. “If you had not so tempted me, I would never have sought you out.”

  She held her temper in check. “I never wished to tempt you, my lord.” Her words had gotten her in trouble the night before. She had better be careful now.

  “You would be a fighter, wouldn’t you? Even now, that alone is tempting. Were I not so weak, I might take you here, in dear Anne’s chamber. How would you like that, hmmm? Ha! And how would she like that?” He laughed to himself.

  Mary fought the impulse to gag. “You are tired. I will leave you to your rest.” She did not reverance as she ran from the room.

  Despicable man.

  “Mary, there you are!” Anne must have forgotten she’d given Mary instructions minutes before. “What more should I do to ease my lord husband’s move?”

  “It seems you have done everything already.” Indeed, his new chamber was just off hers. He would not complain too loudly because it also had access to the outside balcony that ran the length of this wing. He was in his wife’s care, but not too tightly. Mary was surprised that Anne had made the young men who had pledged themselves to Oxford’s service welcome. But if she wanted her husband, she had to accept she was going to get all of his eccentric companions, most of them young, very young, and attractive sons of nobility. The majority of them artistically inclined. All of them spoiled.

  “Anne, would you like to take a turn about Queen Elizabeth’s privy gardens with me?”

  “I don’t know if I should. I may be needed here.”

  “Oxford’s valet is here. He knows his habits better than anyone. He will have it well under control. The fresh air will be good for you. And the baby.”

  Anne’s hand went
instinctively to her stomach at those words. Mary was pleased when Anne smiled. “You are right. I have been cooped up inside too long. The cool air will be bracing.”

  • • •

  White snow dusted the garden. The plants themselves had no hope of surviving the chill, but for the moment, they looked magical. Frozen in time.

  Anne laughed as a clump of snow fell on Mary’s head. Mary shook the hood of her cloak, spraying Anne with flakes.

  Mary took a deep breath and felt the chill sting her nose. “I have always loved winter.”

  “I remember that.”

  Arm in arm, the two ladies took their time. Being outside in a frosty garden triggered a memory. Mary laughed at the thought. “Remember that year that Signor Pantalones was meeting with your mother’s companion in the still room?”

  “Yes, and we waited outside for hours, hoping to catch a glimpse to see if he really was as hairy as he seemed!”

  “He had hair tufting out of the top of his ruff. It was disgusting.”

  Anne lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It was even more disgusting when we saw what he and Lady Collins were doing in the still room.”

  “Aye.” It had only been disgusting because Signor Pantalones and Lady Collins were the ones doing it. Mary had never liked the greasy, little man. “I caught the ague from being out in the cold so long.”

  “And Father found out and had Lady Collins sent back to her family.”

  Both ladies laughed together over the reminiscence, but Mary could not help but wonder whatever had become of Lady Collins. Had her family accepted her back? Had she married? What if she had gotten with child?

  “Anne, have you heard anything more about Lady Collins?”

  Anne paused at the odd question. “No. Why would I?”

  “I just wondered. She had been in your mother’s household for a few years—almost like family at that point.”

  Anne did not respond, instead she seemed captivated by a frost-encased bloom. The Queen’s privy garden was guarded by a high wall, so they were well protected from the wind. The snowfall from last night was even, covering all the foliage. The groundsman must have been out first thing that morning to clear the paths. Mary could feel the chill working its way through her woolen gloves.

  “Do you think it is fair that Lady Collins was sent away, but Signor Pantalones stayed on?”

  “He was our dance master—we needed him.”

  “But his behavior was just as scandalous as hers. Even more so, perhaps.”

  Anne scoffed. “Mary, why are you being so righteous? You know the way of the world. Right or wrong, fair or no, it is what it is and we must abide by the rules.” Anne increased her step. “If you had behaved as you should the other night, you would not be in the trouble you are now.”

  Mary sucked in a breath, too fast, in shock. The cold made her choke. Coughing, she asked, “What would you have had me do? Smile docilely while a man threatened to rape me?”

  “That man was an earl. My earl. You owe him your subservience.”

  How much subservience was Anne talking about? “What if he had followed through?”

  Anne straightened her posture and looked Mary in the eye. “I have thought about that. If he chose to take his pleasure with you, I would not blame you. We would be able to continue our friendship so long as he did not form any affection for you. It is the way of court, and we both must accept it.”

  Mary had nothing to say. There was nothing she could say. Clearly Anne was not the friend Mary thought she was. It was odd, that knowledge didn’t even make her sad. Angry, maybe? No, she had nothing to say.

  They walked on in silence. Mary focused on breathing evenly and keeping her mouth closed. Flurries had begun to fall, and she did not wish to start coughing again or she might throw up.

  She might throw up anyway.

  • • •

  Mary was not surprised when Mistress Parry cheered at her plan to salvage her reputation by discovering who really stabbed the earl. She had welcomed the idea with arms wide open. They had spent the greater part of the afternoon in Mistress Parry’s suite of rooms going over details.

  “I’m so glad for your support. Anyone else would consider my idea to be a fantasy.”

  Mistress Parry clucked her tongue. “Well, it is fantasy. Even if you end up discovering who attacked Oxford and explain why it all happened in your room, it won’t change the fact that you have become notorious.” Looking at herself in the mirror, she fixed a stray hair before meeting Mary’s eye in the reflection. “Perception is truth, my dear.”

  Mary sat down hard, her eyes wide. “But you just said it was a wonderful idea . . . ”

  “It is a wonderful idea. It shows you have initiative and gumption.” Mistress Parry sat next to Mary on the bed. “Most importantly, it will keep you positive and stop you from wallowing in self-pity. Or worse, hiding in your apartments with the Oxfords.”

  Mary made a face at that. If she wasn’t ready to brave court, she’d have no recourse but to hide in her room until the weather cleared enough for her to head back to Holme LeSieur.

  Mistress Parry continued, apparently unconcerned for Mary’s pout. “What is left to be done? You will need more of a disguise for tonight. It may be a masque, but you need to be disguised beneath your obvious disguise so people honestly do not recognize you. You will have a mask. I have already let you one of my gowns, but you need more. Perhaps a wig to disguise your lovely hair. It really sets you apart, you know . . . ” Her voice tapered off as she walked to the door and called for her servant. She gave the girl a quick message to deliver and returned to join Mary’s perch on the trunk at the foot of her bed. “Whether or not this works, you have to get over yourself. Who cares what the court thinks of you? You should not let their opinion bother you.”

  “Mistress Parry, I have nothing left to me but their opinion. My livelihood depends on it. What am I to do when my position at Holme LeSieur becomes unnecessary?”

  “Frances LeSieur would never put you out. And you could marry. You should marry. Be happy.”

  “We already discussed this.”

  “Yes, and I thought we both agreed that your reasons were silly.”

  “No man deserves a wife like me.”

  “Any man would be blessed to have a wife like you. You have certainly captivated Sir Charles.”

  Had Mistress Parry lost her wits? She had been very specific that Charles could not marry. “I had liked to think that when all the world had gone mad, I could count on you . . . ”

  “And now I’ve made you wonder,” Mistress Parry interrupted with a laugh. “No, I have not yet succumbed to my old age. I know perfectly well what I am about. Just because something is impossible doesn’t mean it can’t be done.

  “Who would have thought that Frances LeSieur would have fallen in love with her dour, duty bound husband?” Mistress Parry continued, “And yet, they are both spending Christmas together at their country manor. I would be willing to wager a gold angel that there will be another little LeSieur on the way soon—this time not conceived out of obligation.” Mistress Parry was silent for a moment, probably reminiscing about a job well done. At least now there was no question that Mistress Parry had been involved in the matchmaking.

  Mistress Parry rose and began to pace the length of her grand chamber. “Your situation is a little more difficult, logistically. The law limits the rights of natural children. So, in order for Sir Charles to marry he needs permission from his liege lord, in this case, Queen Elizabeth. He would also need a livelihood in order to support a family. That one is trickier, but it could be done if he would be willing to swallow his pride.”

  “So you have everything figured out.” Mary would have been irritated if it hadn’t been so funny. Mistress Parry had her fingers in many pies and was proud of it. “What of me? I cannot marry, I have told you.”

  “You have told me. But you have yet to give me any real reason. The solution to your particular obstacle is fo
r you to come to your senses.”

  “Sir Charles deserves every happiness. He deserves a wife who can be what he needs. He does not deserve to be burdened with me.” He deserved a wife that could give him children—why else did a man marry, after all? Of course, she hadn’t shared that fact with Mistress Parry . . .

  “Burdened with you? Because of the lost babe? Mary, you are very dear to me, but your overdeveloped sense of shame is becoming annoying.”

  “I am glad you are being honest with me about your matchmaking.” Mary stood and joined Mistress Parry, pacing restlessly around the room. “And I am not punishing myself by electing not to marry. It would be a punishment every day, in fact, if I were to marry and knew that my husband had not gotten a fair deal.”

  “I do not know of any man who gives a fig whether or not his wife is virginal. I know that Sir Charles would not care. Does he know?”

  “He knows.”

  Mistress Parry smiled, knowingly. “And he did not run away screaming when you told him?”

  Mary laughed at the visual. “No.”

  “So there you have it.”

  “Why would he run screaming away from me when his only hope, or even expectation, is that we become lovers?”

  “You are not lovers yet?” Mistress Parry was clearly surprised.

  Exasperated past the point of finding Mistress Parry’s meddling amusing, Mary stopped pacing and faced her directly. “The situation is that neither Sir Charles nor I have any intention to marry. Whatever we have between us is temporary. I know it. He knows it. He is gentleman enough to agree to help me clear my name. That is all.”

  Mistress Parry studied Mary’s serious expression for one moment before laughing. “And now we have come full circle. You are wrong about Sir Charles. He is interested in more than something temporary with you. You must be blind not to see it. Stubborn and blind. Or, perhaps, you haven’t the wits I had credited you with. Either way, you will come around soon. It really is your only choice if you hope for happiness.”

  Mary gasped as if she’d been slapped. In a way, she had.

  “Mistress Parry, you seek to arrange my life to your specifications, and you call me annoying?”