by Mary Hooper
I could not but smile. ‘Our household has no servants!’
‘But when we looked for her, little Cicily couldn’t be found sewing or dancing or playing games …’
‘She’d gone?’
Tomas clapped his hands in the manner of a magician completing a trick. ‘She had disappeared. And when Kat Ashley was sent to Cicily’s bedchamber she discovered that her gowns had also vanished and her room was bare. But not completely bare: she’d left behind her a tract putting forward the supposedly superior claim to the throne of the queen’s cousin, the Queen of Scotland.’
‘Then it was this Cecily who …’
Tomas nodded. ‘She was acting in the pay of someone else, of course: someone far more important and powerful. We may or may not find out who that someone was.’
I’d composed myself by then, dried my eyes on my kerchief, smoothed my hair and straightened my skirts, so was ready when Tomas offered his arm to walk back through the cellars which I’d been dragged across some time before. ‘So you are quite convinced that Her Grace knows of my complete innocence?’
Tomas nodded. ‘She does. And she’s very grateful for your prompt action. So much so, that I think you may hear word from her soon.’
I blushed. ‘My only wish would be to serve her faithfully.’
‘I know that,’ said Tomas, ‘and there may well be a means whereby you can do this to greater effect.’
My heart started beating very fast, for of course this could only mean that she was going to take me into her service. ‘Truly?’
‘Truly,’ Tomas said. ‘Her Grace has a foreign ambassador with her now, but you’ll hear from her soon. And in the meantime I’m to escort you to the outer chamber, where your friend Isabelle is waiting for you – and has, I believe, already made the acquaintance of a fine young footman. You can walk home, and each tell the other of your day’s adventures …’
I smiled at him, barely taking notice of his words. To enter the queen’s service, to become one of her ladies-in-waiting. It was all I’d ever dreamed of …
Chapter Eighteen
I was sent out to market early the next morning, for Mistress Midge had a mind to prepare a feast to welcome back the master and mistress from Greenwich and was even contemplating opening up the dining room. It hadn’t been hard to keep what had happened a secret from her, for when I’d arrived home late the previous afternoon I’d found her sprawled at the kitchen table, drunk, her face flat down in a porringer, and that morning she hadn’t even seemed to recall that I’d gone to the palace at all.
I yawned as I walked along, for, overexcited, I’d spent most of the night wide awake and reliving every moment of the day that had passed, scarce able to believe what had happened: at the way we’d been chosen out of the glittering crowd; at the audacious manner I’d leaped at the queen to take the flask from her hands; at how I’d been thrown into the dungeon; and – finally and most magnificently – how Tomas had thanked me on behalf of the queen and told me that Her Grace would send word to me. How soon could I begin working for her? I wondered. What tasks might I be called upon to perform? I was a little worried by the fact that I had few accomplishments – although I could read fairly well now – but believed I might be taught about music, dancing, singing and the like.
At the market, Isabelle was selling fresh garlic and had a goodly crop of plump and juicy bulbs in her wooden trug. She was yawning, too, though, and hardly bothering to cry up her produce, so that the housewife next to her, also selling garlic, was getting all the business.
She perked up as I sat down beside her. ‘You’ve come at last!’
‘’Tis not late.’
‘’Tis when you’ve spent a sleepless night.’
‘Thinking of your footman?’ I teased her.
‘Thinking that I might have had to rescue you from the Tower!’ she retorted, and we smiled at each other and clasped hands.
‘Everything went through my head over and over …’
‘But did you have the dream again? The one with Mistress Vaizey?’
‘I hardly slept enough to dream.’ I thought about it for a moment and then realised. ‘But no, I didn’t have that dream, the one where the queen was dead.’
She shushed me and I clapped my hand to my mouth, for, of course, to discuss such matters as the death of the queen was treason.
A group of housewives passed us. ‘Fresh garlic!’ Isabelle cried, making some effort. ‘New young garlic!’ No one paid any attention to her, however, so she turned back to me. ‘What will happen now, do you think? How long will it be before you’re called to the palace?’
‘I hope not too long,’ I said with some excitement.
‘And you do think that you’ll have to live there …’
I nodded assuredly, for we’d discussed this on the way home the previous afternoon and I’d come to the conclusion that all the queen’s ladies-in-waiting would have to live wherever she was, ready to attend upon her at all times. ‘I will surely have to be where the Court is, ready to be with the queen on her progresses through the country.’
Isabelle looked at me wistfully. ‘Then I’ll miss you very much.’
‘Perhaps you can visit me,’ I said with some uncertainty, for I wasn’t at all sure of the etiquette for such an event.
‘Will you have your own room, do you think?’
‘Surely! And a generous dress allowance, for the queen’s ladies can’t be seen to be less than fashionable. I’ve heard – for a great lady in Hazelgrove used to be at Whitehall Palace – that a woman is employed just to do their hair, and that if you’re a maid of honour, which is the best sort of lady-in-waiting, then you have your own maid!’
‘Oh,’ said Isabelle, rather despondently. ‘But won’t you be sad to leave Beth and Merryl?’
‘I will, but I’ll come back and see them,’ I said. ‘And I’ll come back and see you, too.’
But this didn’t seem to raise her spirits. ‘You’ll forget about me,’ she said sadly. ‘You’ll make fine new friends, ladies, and forget all about me.’
‘Of course I won’t,’ I said, but to be truthful, I’d been wondering that myself. I’d miss Isabelle, of course, and the two little girls and even Mistress Midge, but the excitement of Court life would more than make up for that.
At market I obtained all the foodstuffs that Mistress Midge had requested, including a fine, plump goose, which I swung over my shoulder, and was humming for sheer joy as I stepped out for home. As I crossed the lane and passed the porch of St Mary’s, however, a dark-hooded figure stepped out of the shadows. Grasping my arm, he pulled me into the porch.
‘Alms, Madam!’ he croaked. ‘Aid a poor beggar who has only recently survived a horrid and contagious disease …’
Giving a little scream of fright, I tried to brush off the hand that held me, but the beggar’s grip was surprisingly strong. ‘Let me go!’ I cried out. ‘I carry no money!’
‘Then give me that fine goose you’re carrying, I pray you,’ came the cracked reply, ‘for in the pest house they feed you such amounts as ’twould hardly keep a dormouse alive.’
‘These aren’t my provisions,’ I said. ‘They belong to my master and mistress and they’ll beat me if I come home without them.’
The grip tightened somewhat. ‘Then you must tell them you were waylaid by a disease-ridden old beggar who threatened to harm you unless you gave him your fine goose – and a kiss.’
‘A kiss!’ I cried, horrified, thinking that I’d have given him my whole basket of goods and taken the consequences rather than kiss whatever plague-ravaged face lay beneath the filthy cowl.
‘Is’t so repugnant, Mistress?’ He stood, bent of back, his head on one side and looked up at me, but I could see very little of his features, for the porch was dark and overhung by a vast yew tree.
I strained my eyes to see what I didn’t want to see. Was that a plague sore on his cheek? Trembling, I tried to temper my reaction, for I didn’t wish to provoke him. I
even tried to smile, but made little success of it.
He drew me closer to him. ‘Would you deny a kiss to a poor old man who’s near death?’
‘I … I …’
‘Or would you, mayhap, prefer to kiss the queen’s fool?’
I gasped. ‘What do you mean?’
There was sudden laughter in his voice. ‘’Tis I, Tomas,’ he said. He straightened up and his hold on my wrist became looser; one that caressed rather than gripped. ‘Forgive me, Lucy,’ he said. ‘I came here in disguise and – such is my devotion to my trade – couldn’t resist playing a jape.’
I snatched back my hand. ‘’Twas not a jape!’ I said. ‘’Twas cruel and I was frightened. Besides, ’tis too early in the day for fooling.’
‘’Tis never too early. Though the hour’s but small, my wit is like the marigold and opens with the sun.’
‘’Tis not at all sunny today,’ I said obstinately.
His hand came to rest on my shoulder. ‘Lucy, I am sorry. Truly,’ he said. ‘Being in Court, where all is bluff and artifice, I sometimes forget the ordinary sensibilities.’
I looked up, under his hood, and could see little but his grey eyes shining and his mouth curved in a smile.
‘Then … then if you are truly sorry, will you take your hood off and let me see you properly?’
‘I cannot,’ he said, ‘for I come in disguise for a reason.’
My heartbeat steadying now, I looked at him with growing interest. It must, surely, be something to do with my elevation to Court. Perhaps he was going to tell me that I must go with him now and begin my new responsibilities.
He glanced about us to see that we were not being observed. ‘I talked with Her Grace long into the night,’ he said, seeming to confirm my expectations, ‘and with Kat Ashley and Sir Thomas Walsingham also.’
‘The queen’s spymaster?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘Yes. But the talk went no further than we four, for Her Grace does not wish her loyal subjects to know how close she was to taking poison without knowing it.’ His voice dropped as he added, ‘Or how close England came to being without a ruler.’
I nodded wordlessly.
‘We talked of you and how you should be rewarded.’
I felt myself flush. ‘I seek no other reward but to serve Her Grace,’ I said again.
‘Quite so. And thus the queen has sent me here this morning to make you a proposition.’
‘Truly?’ Before I could stop myself, I burst out, ‘Tell me, then, when am I to become a lady-in-waiting?’
Much to my discomfiture, he began laughing. ‘A lady-in-waiting? No, I fear you are not to become one of those.’
‘Not?’ I looked at him in dismay.
‘Dear Lucy, you’d be unhappy in such a situation, for the women who surround the queen are of the type who seek preferment at every turn and can kick like a she-ass if they think anyone is usurping their position.’
‘Oh,’ was all I could say, and it was hard to stop my bottom lip from jutting out childishly.
He put his hand on my arm, ‘They are titled girls,’ he said gently, ‘highly educated and very aware of their place in life. They use the Court as a marriage market, each vying one with another for the best catch.’
‘So just because I don’t have a title …’ I began, tears coming into my eyes.
‘And thank God you do not have a title, for the queen wants you to take on a more exacting role.’
I looked at him as well as I could, for his face was still concealed under his hood. ‘And what is that?’
‘Her Grace wants you to spy for her.’
‘Spy for her?’ I repeated disbelievingly.
‘To observe, shall we say? For that doesn’t sound so alarming.’ He squeezed my arm. ‘She knows that Dr Dee is of loyal heart, but fears that those who surround him may be of lesser mettle. Her Grace wants to know what people are saying about her in the streets and in marketplaces, in church and at hiring fairs and bear-baitings. She wants to know, in short, what is the true opinion of the people. If there is any dissent to her rule she wants to hear of it; if there is sympathy for her cousin Mary and the old religion then she wishes to be privy to that, too.’
‘And how would I discover such things?’
‘Just by going about your normal business in Dr Dee’s household and keeping your eyes and ears open. And, in addition, sometimes I may point you in a certain direction and ask you to give your observations on a particular person.’
‘And would Dr Dee know of all this?’
Tomas shook his head. ‘He would not. As few people as possible should know. Her Grace will devise some little assignments which will make it necessary for you to come and go between Mortlake and wherever the Court may be, so that your occasional presence is not remarked upon.’
‘So … so I won’t be the queen’s lady-in-waiting?’
‘No. You’ll remain Dr Dee’s servant, a reliable but simple girl going about her duties. No one would suspect such a person and all would speak freely in front of one.’
I sighed. ‘But I so longed to be at Court.’
He squeezed my hand. ‘The Court is like the stage, Lucy. All are players and all is false. Remember that when you pass through it.’
‘But will I be seeing you sometimes?’
‘Undoubtedly.’ He laughed. ‘But whether you will recognise me is another matter.’
He raised my hand to his lips, kissed my palm and folded my fingers over the kiss, one by one. ‘Keep this safe until I see you again,’ he said. And was gone.
Thoughtfully, I continued my journey back to the magician’s house. My life was changing, although not as I’d wished. ’Twould, however, be an interesting change …
A Note from the
Author on the Cast
of Characters
I have deliberately not given a firm date for the happenings in this book but it is set sometime during the start of the second half of Elizabeth I’s reign, when the queen was in her early forties. At this time her ministers had not given up hope that she might marry and even, perhaps, provide the heir that England so needed. There was much public speculation about who might or might not be one of the queen’s lovers. Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, was her long-term favourite, but many a young dandy spent a fortune on clothes and fancy accessories in his attempts to be noticed by her. The queen’s courtship by the French Duke of Alencon went on for several years and they even exchanged rings, but the fact that she was Protestant and he Catholic (and also a foreigner) eventually went against him.
Many of the other people mentioned in this book were real: Walsingham, Kelly, Robert Dudley – and Dr John Dee, of course. Dee was a brilliant mathematician, map-maker, linguist and scholar – but he also appears to have been very gullible. Kelly, his ‘scryer’, purported to have had conversations with several spirits who gave information on how to turn metal into gold, but unfortunately, these instructions were in a complicated angelic language and could never be properly deciphered. Every philosopher/scientist of the time was searching for the ‘philosopher’s stone’, which would turn base metals into gold and bring about everlasting life. Certain magical items belonging to Dr Dee are on show in the British Museum, and there is a pen and ink drawing made at the time, which purports to show Dee and Kelly in the churchyard at Mortlake, speaking to a spirit Dee has raised.
People were very superstitious in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and astrology was a legitimate science. Those families who could afford it would have had a chart cast at the birth of a child to see what fate had in store. Dr Dee was consulted about the most auspicious coronation date for Queen Elizabeth, and she visited his house in Mortlake several times.
Unfortunately, nothing now remains of Dee’s house and library (once said to be the biggest private library in the country), only a wall in the churchyard, which is said to have led into his garden. Little remains, either, of Richmond Palace, except a picturesque archway and some ancient walls.
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Lucy is, of course, a fictional character, but Dr Dee and his family would have had servants and it is fascinating to speculate what they might have thought of him and his magical endeavours. Dr Dee lived a long life, had two wives and eight children, but never achieved the great fame and riches he so desired. He died, almost penniless, in 1608 when he was eighty-one.
Queen Elizabeth had several jesters and fools over her lifetime. These lived at court mainly to make her laugh and lighten her duties, although some were wise fools who would, in seeming to talk nonsense, actually give good advice. One of her favourite jesters was Thomasina, a female dwarf, who accompanied Elizabeth on her many progresses throughout the country. Then there was Monarcho, an Italian fool, and the Greens: a whole family of jesters. As the queen also had a network of spies working under Sir Francis Walsingham, it doesn’t seem to be stretching credulity too far to suggest that Tomas could have been a jester and a spy.
There were many attempts on Elizabeth’s life and most of these derived from the supporters of the Catholic Mary, Queen of Scots. She had a good claim to the English throne being, like Elizabeth, a granddaughter of Henry VII. In 1585, Anthony Babington’s coded correspondence with Mary was deciphered by Sir Francis Walsingham’s spy network, revealing a complex plan to unseat Elizabeth and put Mary on the throne of England. These attempts increased, sometimes involving foreign powers, until Elizabeth reluctantly signed Mary’s death warrant in 1587.
How to Make
Lavender Wands
Use at least thirteen (it should be an odd number) of long stems of fresh lavender, not dried, and two or three metres (the amount will depend on the length of your stalks) of narrow coloured ribbon in whatever colour you choose.
1. Make a bunch of the lavender stems, lining them up at the base of the flower heads rather than the tops of the flowers.
