by Kris Tualla
Not to be ignored in this endeavor was the selfish sense of exhilaration and freedom which Avery experienced on her sojourns. For brief moments of time, she was not bound by her birth, her upbringing, or her titled responsibilities. She was just a simple peasant, unfettered by convention, and unhampered by expectation.
Clothed in anonymous darkness, she felt like a young woman again, able to hope for a bright future, not yet touched by the unsatisfying marriages and deep disappointments which both she and Cathy had endured.
And now that her deception was discovered, it must end.
The knock on her door sent tingling waves of shock through her body. Avery sat up and held her breath. Perhaps whoever was there would believe her absent and go away.
For a moment, there was only silence between her and the door.
The knock sounded again, but softer. “Lady Avery, I wish to speak with you.”
Jakob. Avery wiped her eyes, unsure what to do.
“Please.” His deep voice was barely loud enough to be heard. “Vil du vennligst gi meg inn?”
A quiet sob escaped her at the Norsk words. She understood them—he was asking her to please let him inside. And by speaking in Norsk no curious passerby would understand his request. Even in light of her humiliation, he was still acting the gentleman toward her.
Avery climbed to her feet and tossed her thick, black braid over her shoulder. She padded forward on bare feet and laid a hand on the latch. There was no point in her changing her clothes now. Jakob had seen everything.
She pushed down on the handle and the heavy iron latch released the expensive wood-paneled door.
Jakob stood in the opening, once again dressed in his own garments. His eyes swept over her, and the surprise at her unchanged appearance instantly sculpted his expression.
“May I come in?” he whispered.
Avery stepped back and gave him room to move past her. She shut and latched the door once more before turning to face him.
Jakob reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek. His warm touch was gentle and soothing. “This has been a night of surprises.”
“Yes.” Avery sniffed and wiped the rest of her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. “Unhappy ones, I am afraid.”
“My English is still unsure, but I believe awkward is a better word.” Jakob took her hand. “We should sit.”
Avery allowed him to lead her to the couch. She sank onto its cushion and looked up at him. “There is wine on the sideboard.”
Jakob understood the implied request. He crossed the room and filled two chalices, one more deeply than the other. He handed her the lighter one, and sat on the couch beside her.
“To honesty and friendship,” he proposed, tapping the rim of his goblet to hers.
Those encouraging words parted a small opening in the dark clouds which were smothering her. She lifted the cup to her lips and drank deeply.
“It seems we both have secrets.” His uneasy expression held a surprising amount of trepidation and that unanticipated reaction pushed back a few more of her clouds. “Which one of us shall speak first?”
“I will.” Avery croaked. She cleared her throat and drew a shuddering breath. “On occasion, I have dressed in men’s clothing, and left the Tower at night.”
Jakob watched her carefully. “For what purpose?”
“I have made friends with a younger woman, a whore.”
Jakob’s eyebrows shot so high that they nearly touched his hairline. “Avery, what—”
“It is nothing like that!” She grabbed his free hand. “And yet I fully understand that is what people will believe of me. I am the Ice Maiden who spurns all the men who have tried to suit me ever since I arrived in England.”
Tears began to spill down her cheeks again. “You must believe me, Jakob”
“I do, Avery. Because you kiss me with so much passion…” His cheeks flushed. “Tell me.”
“Lizzy tells me things. Things she sees. Things that happen in the city.” Avery felt like her words made her sound like a simpleton, but at the moment she couldn’t think in any more elaborate terms. “She is the one who told me about the hunting accident with Henry.”
Jakob’s brow smoothed with his understanding. “She is a—is the word spy?”
“Yes, that is it exactly. Lizzy spies for me.”
“Do you pay her?”
Avery’s shoulder relaxed. Jakob seemed to believe her. “I do. And it is much more than she normally makes in an evening, I can assure you.”
“When she tells you these things,” he said carefully. “Who do you tell them to?”
“Catherine, for the most part.” Avery lifted on shoulder and let it drop. “If she feels the information is important, then she will do something with it.”
“Did you tell her about the arrow and the dog?”
Avery shook her head. “No. Did you tell Charles?”
“Yes. He knew about the carriage.” Jakob swirled the wine in his cup. “He was not as concerned as I hoped.”
“I suppose he believes Henry is well protected,” Avery offered.
Jakob took another long draught from his goblet before meeting her eyes again. Something else weighed on him. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Years.”
His brow furrowed. “How do you come and go from the Tower without being seen?”
Avery shook her head. “That I will not reveal.”
“I think you are in danger,” he objected.
“I am not completely safe,” she admitted. “But there is someone who watches out for me.”
Jakob gave an unexpected chuckle. “Someone with secrets of his own?”
Avery allowed a little smile. “Yes.”
Jakob stood. “May I pour you more wine?”
Avery handed him her cup. “Yes, thank you.”
She felt the doomish clouds continue to part and a ray of hope lightened her burden. Jakob had accepted what she told him without any apparent condemnation.
Perhaps that acceptance was founded in his own deceptions.
When Jakob handed her the wine, he did not release the filled goblet until she looked up into his eyes. “I believe you have another reason to escape the Tower.”
Her fear rushed back, threatening her grip on the wine. “What?”
The knight settled back on the cushions. “I think sometimes you want to be simply Avery. Not the Lady Avery, member of Queen Catherine’s court.”
If she hadn’t loved him already, Jakob’s surprising statement would have solidified her adoration. A heat born of affection—and desire—suffused her chest.
“How could you know that?” she whispered.
“Because I see you, Avery.” He touched her breast. “I see who you are, in here.”
She wanted him to kiss her, but sadly he did not. “It is true. When I go out dressed like this, I can be anyone I wish to be.”
“I felt that after I married.” He pulled a chest-expanding sigh. “When I was at the inn with Uma, nothing else existed.”
Of course. “You do understand.”
He nodded. “I hid from the king, Uma hid from her parents, and you hide from the English court.”
Avery took a long drink of her wine, summoning the courage to shift the conversation. Having been absolved from her own guilt, it was time to confront Jakob’s.
She lowered the cup and looked into his eyes. “The time has come, Jakob. Tell me why you were impersonating Henry.”
*****
Jakob set his emptied goblet down. He was not certain how much he could say, having been sworn to secrecy by the king. And yet, he wasn’t speaking with a commoner—Lady Avery was Queen Catherine’s highest ranked lady-in-waiting. Of all the people who might be trusted with his secret, certainly Lady Avery equaled the Duke of Suffolk in trusted confidentiality.
He started simply. “It was Henry’s idea.”
“To dress like him at the masquerade?” Avery offered.
Jakob shook hi
s head, “It began three weeks before that. Henry and Charles Brandon made the plan.”
Avery frowned. “For what purpose?”
Jakob hesitated. “First, I must tell you what they said.”
Avery set her goblet down and leaned back. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Go on.”
“Henry summoned me, and asked me what I want. I told him that the things I want are not possible to have.” Jakob dipped his chin as he looked into her eyes. “I mean, to have my wife back, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But Henry kept asking, so I told him that I hate ships and do not want to sail to Barcelona. He laughed and asked if that was all. I said I do not want to sail back from Barcelona, also.”
Avery gave him a puzzled smile. “These are very simple requests, my lord.”
Jakob pointed at her. “Yes, but important to a man who is always sick on ships.”
Her smile softened. “Agreed.”
“So Henry promises that if I will go out among the people, dressed like him, and in his carriage, then he will make my way through France to Spain very comfortable.” Jakob winked. “In both directions.”
Avery’s smile dimmed. “But why doesn’t Henry do this for himself?”
Jakob’s gaze fell to the floor; he could not look at Avery when he told her the truth. “Because Henry is somewhere else, and he does not want Catherine to know.”
“Oh, no…”Avery moaned. “Is it another woman?”
Jakob nodded, his eyes still downcast. “He has taken a mistress.”
Avery’s fierce punch to his arm took him by surprise. He sat back and stared at her, rubbing the bruised limb. “I am not the guilty one!”
Her eyes flashed like obsidian. “You might as well be—you are enabling him to commit adultery!”
“The king will fuck whomever he wants—whether I am there or not!” Jakob jumped to his feet. “He has many chances every day!”
Avery climbed to her feet as well. “He is married. He took the vows, and he should remain faithful to his wife!”
“Yes, he should!” Jakob threw his arms wide. “But I told you what happened to me at the masquerade. Women whispered in my ear, put my hands on their breasts, grabbed my cock. That is a hardship for any man to resist.”
Avery jammed her fists on her hips. “You would resist!”
Jakob stepped back.
The vision of Avery standing barefoot in front of him, dressed in a man’s linen shirt and tight woolen hose, contrasted with the strikingly feminine beauty, which even an hour spent in tears could not mar. How did she ever pass as a man?
Even more incongruous was the way her angry gaze skewered him, even while she complimented his character.
“I would. I have,” he conceded. “But I was not spoilt as a boy, and brought up to have anything I want. Much the opposite.”
Avery raised her chin. “That does not excuse Henry.”
“No. It does not excuse Henry,” Jakob agreed.
That took some of the bluster from her righteous attitude. “Then why did you agree to do it? For selfish reasons?”
“I agreed for three reasons.” Jakob held up one finger. “First, because the king of a very powerful nation asked me. This is not a thing to ignore.”
Avery narrowed her eyes, not bothering to acknowledge that salient point. “And the second reason?”
“For a selfish reason,” he admitted. It was the truth, after all. “I wanted an easier journey.”
“You could have asked for money,” she prodded.
Jakob shrugged. “I have enough. That was not as important to me.”
Avery drew a deep breath before she asked, “And what is the third reason?”
Jakob stepped closer and leaned down so his eyes were in front of hers. “To protect Catherine.”
*****
Avery gasped. Her hand moved of its own volition, slamming against Jakob’s cheek with unexpected force, and leaving a stark red imprint on his face.
“How dare you say such a thing!”
The knight straightened and glared down at her. Even as a welt in the shape of her hand rose on his skin, he did not react to the slap. She recoiled, stepping backward toward the couch—partly in regret, and partly in fear.
Jakob followed her path, his eyes dark as a violent sea. “We talked about this,” he growled.
That was a ridiculous accusation. “When?”
He glared at her. “The night of the masquerade.”
Avery’s retreat was abruptly halted. The backs of her calves pressed against the couch, and Jakob was so close she could feel the heat of his body through her linen shirt. “I—I don’t remember.”
Jakob put his fingers on her shoulders and gave a little push. Knocked off balance, she sat down on the couch. Hard. He lowered himself to sit in front of her. “I said the queen is with child now. If Henry explores other beds, is it not best that she does not know.”
Avery’s eye’s widened. “You were already involved with this scheme! That is why you asked me!”
His expression shifted. “Yes. But I truly wanted to know what you think.”
“I think Henry’s behavior is deplorable,” she declaimed.
“That is not what I asked you.”
Avery stiffened. Her memory of the conversation was becoming clearer. “That is exactly what you asked me,” she deflected.
“No.” Jakob wagged his head and repeated his words. “I asked if it were better that she does not know. Do you recall your answer?”
She was pinned, a specimen under stark examination. “I said I did not know.”
“Yes. At first.”
Avery remembered now. “I said that if I agree, I am condoning the king’s infidelity. And if I disagree, I am condemning Catherine to unending heartache.”
Jakob leaned back again. “So, what is your answer now?”
She hated this moment. She hated that she was caught in the same predicament as Jakob. There was no way for her to find him guilty, unless she was willing to destroy her dearest friend’s happiness.
Jakob’s voice was now low and gentle. “If she knows, she might lose the baby.”
Avery grew somber. “Another loss, plus Henry’s lies, might kill her.”
“Understand this, Avery.” Jakob’s expression eased. “Henry will never be faithful. It is not in his nature.”
“Never?” Avery grasped at a straw. “You have only known him a short time. How can you say that?”
“Because I spend my life with men like him. I serve a king of my own. Men with power make their own rules.”
Avery had nothing to say to refute that; she had spent her life in a very similar manner.
“This is not the first time Henry has done this,” Jakob added. “And Catherine lost a baby then.”
Avery had no trouble recalling that memory. “It was November, four years ago. Catherine found out that Henry was dallying with a woman named Jane Popincourt, and afterwards her son was stillborn.”
“Does a woman lose a baby for a hurting heart?” Jakob asked with a shrug. “I do not know. But I do not want to take that risk.”
Avery felt impending tears about to reappear. “This is horrible, Jakob. Absolutely horrible. I do not know what the right thing is. And I hate that I do not know.”
“I do know two things.”
Avery met Jakob’s level gaze. “Please, tell me.”
“I know that your actions when you are dressed like this—” Jakob waved his hand over her frame. “—must never be revealed.”
Avery sighed her relief. “Thank you.”
“And I know that my actions when I am dressed like Henry must never be revealed either.” His eyes begged for her compliance.
There was only one answer Avery could give. “You have my word. I will take this secret to my grave.”
“Takk du.”
She reached for her rosary, and lifted it in a fisted hand. “May God forgive us both.”
Chapter T
wenty-Six
July 10, 1518
The first day of the tournament dawned hazy and humid. Jakob already felt the sweat rolling down the middle of his back as he restrung his bow for the shooting competition.
The tournament field was set up once more at York Place, three miles from the White Tower, following the north bank of the Thames. Three large tents, again striped in the Tudor colors, had been set side-by-side in a row, and were filled with bleachers to allow clear visibility for the spectators.
The middle tent had two large, cushioned thrones in the center. Flanking the royal seats were sturdy chairs set on the bleachers, to allow the nobility a more comfortable view of the games. Off to one side, vendors had set up booths selling roasted meats, ale, wine, and pastries.
Though it was not yet noon, men and women were arriving and claiming their shaded spots. Henry’s generous invitations always put the attendees into a festive mood, and Jakob heard their laughter from the field.
He hefted his bow, a good six feet from end to end, and tested the resistance of the gut. Good.
He slung it over his shoulder and walked toward the tents.
He wondered what Bessie Blount looked like, and if she were already in the royal tent. In spite of Jakob’s careful objection, Henry remained oblivious to the risk of placing his mistress directly under his pregnant wife’s nose.
Though the king said he would invite her, the possibility remained that Miss Blount might have enough sense not to attend. And yet, in Jakob’s experience, mistresses always seemed to believe that the gentleman in question truly loved and valued them more than he did his avowed wife.
Poor mistaken fools. No man of power, least likely a king as respected as Henry, would ever divorce his wife. Not for anyone, no matter how alluring she might be.
Jakob scanned the gathering crowd for a glimpse of Avery. After they reached their uneasy accord yester evening, Jakob remained in her chamber until well past midnight. Their conversation flowed easily and was frequently punctuated by physical play. He stayed until Avery fell asleep on the couch, and then he left.
