Her tone was honeyed. I quickly reviewed my activities of the last two days and discarded all of them as possible topics for conversation. I remained stubbornly silent. Maria sighed.
‘I see I shall have to win your friendship, Eleanor. And indeed, you have no reason to trust me that I know of.’ She sounded wistful, and I felt almost guilty for a moment. I allowed her to take my hand and draw me down next to her.
‘Shall we begin with a gift?’ asked Maria unexpectedly. With a smile, she drew a slim box from her reticule and offered it to me. I hesitated. She sighed again and opened it. Inside lay an intricately wrought gold chain. ‘It’s for you,’ said Maria simply.
‘Why would you give me this?’
‘Because I thought you might like to wear it with your new clothes when they are ready,’ Maria explained patiently.
‘Yes, but why are you giving me an expensive gift?’ I asked. ‘I hardly know you.’
‘I told you already. I desire to be your friend.’ She drew the chain from the box and fastened it around my neck. ‘There, is that not charming?’
I touched it uncertainly. It felt cold and unfamiliar against my skin. I had never worn a necklace before.
‘Thank you, I suppose,’ I said. I sounded ungracious. I still did not trust her.
Maria brought other gifts over the next few days. An ivory comb, a silk scarf, an embroidered cushion. I stuffed them all in my linen chest as soon as she left.
With the gifts came gentle questions. Where did I disappear to all day? Who were my particular friends in the castle? Neither my taciturnity nor my open dislike could keep her away from me.
I took to seeking refuge in the stables even more frequently than before to escape Maria’s company. I stroked Arianna and apologized for not being able to ride her. ‘All these grand people are everywhere, Arianna, and they would stare to see a serving girl upon so fine a palfrey as you,’ I whispered.
I kept Tom company in the harness room, even helping him clean the mountains of stained leather the guests created, until the head groom caught me and sent me away.
‘Tain’t fitting, Mistress, for you to be working like a stable girl, whatever your mother’s misfortunes may be,’ he said firmly, shooing me out.
Deprived even of this pastime, I climbed up to the hayloft and buried myself in the hay, lying there for hours on end with nothing but my own thoughts for company.
One day, upon my return to my room, I entered and stopped dead, thinking I had gone into the wrong room in error. A bedstead hung with curtains stood in the place of my old palliasse and there was a washstand and two comfortable wooden chairs which had not been there before. Maria’s doing, no doubt. I ought to have been grateful to her, but I was not. A scented pomander lay upon the bed. Another gift from Maria. It reminded me of Maria’s sickly scent, and turned my stomach. That could not even be banished to my linen chest; it would make everything else stink. I went to the window and dropped it out into the moat.
No doubt Maria would be sniffing out where I had been today like a bloodhound. It seemed she had been set to spy on me. No doubt my father wanted me watched. Why else would a fashionable, grown-up lady trouble herself with me?
And indeed, Maria sent her maid for me later that afternoon to escort me to her room. It was a grand chamber, close to the great hall and had clearly been recently refurbished. I was glad not to see her in my mother’s room this time. She had no business usurping Mother’s position.
The seamstress was awaiting me, and with Maria’s sharp eye on her she fitted my new clothes and made some last-minute adjustments. Stomachers were laced and unlaced around me. I was pushed and pulled out of the various kirtles and gowns. The clothes were heavy and strange.
I looked down at myself in my new pale yellow evening gown. I thought I must look years older—quite grown-up. And very grand. Only my unruly auburn hair still felt untamed and familiar. The kirtle beneath the gown was shimmering gold and caught the afternoon sunlight when I moved. The chemise was cream with fine lace edging, and looked beautiful against my pale skin.
‘I feel quite different,’ I said nervously.
‘Indeed you do. This is the real you.’ Maria considered me, her head on one side. ‘And I do believe you will break hearts in that dress. If only I were as pale as you. My, I feel quite envious!’
I turned from her with barely concealed disgust. Her insincerity was nauseous.
‘And is that my cloak?’ I asked of the seamstress. ‘May I try it?’ She placed the black velvet cloak reverently around my shoulders and fastened it in front. I swept the heavy fabric around me and paraded a little, my excitement returning. Until I tried to turn my head.
‘Why, I cannot see a thing!’ I exclaimed. ‘This stupid stiff collar is in the way.’
I saw Maria and the seamstress exchange looks. ‘It’s the latest fashion, Mistress,’ the seamstress assured me timidly.
‘Well, it’s no good for riding,’ I argued. It would be like wearing blinkers. ‘Can you not remove it, please?’ Lady Maria shook her head decisively. ‘Certainly not! Whatever would your father say if he saw you in an outmoded cloak?’
I hunched an impatient shoulder. ‘The devil take Sir Walter,’ I retorted. Immediately I bit my lip wishing I could take my words back.
Both the women gasped. Maria shook her head at me repressively. ‘You do not know what you are saying,’ she chided. ‘Why, he has just paid for all these fine clothes for you! Your father should limit the time you spend in the stables, it seems.’ And she then turned the subject at once, picking up the shoes that had been made for me and begging me to try them.
I was as quiet and acquiescent as a doll for the rest of the fitting, understanding that I had disgraced myself. Not that I cared a jot for that, but I must think of Mother’s safety and behave myself. I even allowed them to comb the tangles out of my hair, part it and paste it down flat ready for the French hood. I hated the hood very nearly as much as the English style. It was heavy and pressed on my head, and I could not imagine how ladies could bear to wear all that black velvet hanging down their backs in the hot weather.
I looked an entirely different person when I made my first official appearance amongst the guests. The great hall had undergone as many changes as I had. Many more tables had been set up and all were full. I wondered how the king and his attendants would fit in. The hall was ablaze with candlelight and lit the colourful clothes and jewels of the many guests. There were ladies in sumptuous gowns and men scarcely less finely dressed. At each end of the hall, huge fires blazed, despite the mildness of the early summer weather.
There was a jester in brightly coloured clothes dancing around and making a nuisance of himself. I saw him trip a hapless manservant, who fell headlong onto the rushes, smashing the plate he was carrying. The men at the table nearest to him set up a shout of laughter.
Maria took my arm and led me forwards. There was a sudden hush as Sir Walter came forward to greet me before the assembled visitors. He took my hand and saluted my cheek, just as though I really were his beloved daughter who dined with him every evening. I felt a rush of anger, but I repressed it sternly. He’s acting, you fool, I told myself fiercely. Just acting, and you must act too. And so I curtseyed before him and smiled. You need not think I’ve forgiven you, you disease-infested dung beetle, I thought, as he offered me his arm in exchange for Maria’s. I placed my fingertips lightly upon it and he led me forth to be introduced to some of the guests.
Lady this and Lord that, it seemed my father had only to lift a finger and the rich and powerful flocked to his halls. The names meant little or nothing to me. I simply kept smiling and curtseying. My brother was seated at the top table, of course, drinking his wine like a miniature man. I gave him a smile as I passed him and he nodded casually. Beside him was a handsome young man with a vaguely familiar face.
‘You will remember your cousin, Gregory Hungerford,’ said my father.
I gasped.
‘Cousin Gre
gory? It is indeed you?’ I asked in delighted surprise, examining his face to find the boy I had known four years ago. He stood up at once and bowed gracefully over my hand.
‘Enchanted, Mistress Hungerford,’ he said formally. Then he grinned and added: ‘Goodness, Cousin Ella, how you have grown up!’
‘So have you. You were eleven years old when you left Farleigh! You were called home because your mother was ill. Did she recover?’
‘She did, thank you, Eleanor. Though her health is not strong.’
I couldn’t stop beaming at him. Sir Walter made an impatient sound in his throat. Recalled to my surroundings, I smiled at Gregory and moved on. I was delighted to see him again. It made the ordeal of meeting so many new people bearable.
The introductions were almost done now. Cromwell was present, and I curtseyed to him, haughty and unsmiling. I was introduced to a small, weedy man with a nervous twitch who I had not seen before.
‘Father Bird, vicar of Bradford,’ my father said. I wondered what he was doing here. He did not strike me as a man likely to be interested in the joust.
There was a young man beside the vicar, and when he stood up unhurriedly to bow to me, I saw with a small shock that it was the man who had asked for a kiss on the stairs. Did he recognize me too? I could not tell for sure, but as he bowed over my hand, he sent me a swift look under his lashes and I thought I saw amusement gleaming in his eyes.
‘This, my dear Eleanor, is Viscount Stanton,’ Sir Walter said with emphasis, as though revealing a treat. I sent him a puzzled glance as I curtseyed. What was he to me? Obviously someone important, by my father’s tone.
‘I hope you are recovered from your indisposition,’ murmured Stanton languidly. He didn’t sound as though he hoped any such thing.
‘I am quite well now, I thank you, my lord,’ I replied, and then stood awkwardly silent, realizing that if he did recognize me he must know very well I had not been ill. I wished my father would move on, but he stood frowning at us, clearly expecting more.
‘Fresh air is beneficial to the health,’ remarked Stanton blandly. ‘You should try taking a walk each day. To the village and back, perhaps.’ There was no hint of a smile as he said this, but now I was certain he had recognized me. My heart beat quickly and I threw Sir Walter a frightened glance.
‘Thank you, but I prefer to ride,’ I said, flustered. Stanton merely bowed in response and turned away.
At last my father showed me to a seat and I sank into it. I had a headache drumming at my temples where the wires of my new hood were pressing. I closed my eyes, breathing as deeply as my stomacher would allow, waiting for the giddiness to pass.
‘Are you ill, Cousin Eleanor?’ asked a solicitous voice. I looked up and found that Gregory had exchanged seats to sit by me.
‘Oh, it is only meeting so many new people.’ I smiled a little wanly. A thought struck me. ‘Cousin,’ I asked, ‘do you ride in the joust?’
‘But of course!’ he replied.
‘That is excellent,’ I told him. All at once the joust was something to be looked forward to after all. I could not ride myself, but I would be able to cheer my cousin on.
CHAPTER TEN
Dear Eleanor,
Thank you for the fruit and sweetmeats. Such a treat! Time passes so slowly, I sometimes feel I shall indeed run mad. Your notes and gifts are my only solace.
Your loving Mother
I struck a flame, set light to Mother’s note and watched it curl and blacken. With my father in residence at Farleigh and Maria snooping in my room, I was careful never to leave any evidence of our correspondence lying about. I dropped the ash into the grate and left the room, making my way down the stairs. I was to ride with Gregory.
My greatest worry now was the whirl of gaiety into which I had been drawn. There were plays and concerts as well as endless banquets. My father required my presence at all of them, and Maria ensured that I attended. Sometimes I felt she was a sheepdog worrying at my heels rather than the friend she pretended to be.
Renewing my acquaintance with my cousin, on the other hand, was a comfort to me. I found his company most agreeable. I must confess though, he was not quite the happy-go-lucky youth of my memory.
‘You do not ride astride, Mistress Eleanor?’ he demanded when he saw me swing onto Arianna’s back. His face was a very picture of shock and disapproval. I laughed out loud.
‘Indeed, I do!’ I cried. I caught Tom’s equally disapproving look and scowled at him. We had already had a whispered argument on the subject of my saddle in the privacy of the loose box. I was not willing to revert to side-saddle because guests were come to stay. I was no longer even sure I could ride on one. Unless Sir Walter himself forbade it, I would ride as I liked. ‘And I’ll wager I can outdistance you on that showy chestnut any day,’ I taunted.
‘I would not take a wager from a lady,’ he said primly, averting his eyes from the sight of me on my horse. My temper flared.
‘Do I offend your sense of decorum, cousin?’ I asked.
‘It is not seemly,’ he muttered.
Tom sent me a look that said clearly ‘I told you so’. I clicked my tongue in exasperation at them both. Their disapproval made me all the more determined to flout convention. I turned Arianna towards the gatehouse and urged her to step out smartly, leaving Gregory to follow or not as he chose. After a few moments I heard the sound of hooves behind me and guessed he was going to accompany me despite my offensive saddle.
I had not been able to ride whilst I awaited my new clothes, and Arianna was fresh. She shied at the sight of the guard and cavorted sideways across the drawbridge, pretending to be frightened of the echoing sound of her own hooves on the wooden bridge.
‘That is surely not a gentle enough palfrey for a lady,’ ventured my cousin behind me. He sounded anxious.
I laughed. ‘You must remember Arianna!’ I exclaimed. ‘I had her when you were here last. This is nothing but playfulness. Come, shall we ride out Iford way? Once we pass the encampment, there’s a great place for a gallop through the meadow along the river.’
Gregory smiled.
‘Indeed, I do remember that stretch. But do you gallop? Surely … ’ His voice trailed off as he met my incredulous gaze.
‘Do I gallop?’ I demanded in blank astonishment. ‘Will the sun rise tomorrow? Of course I do.’ It was on the tip of my tongue to remind him I jousted also, but I bit it back. He had become tiresomely conventional, it seemed, and I did not want to spoil the ride by hearing his reaction to that piece of information.
By the time Gregory had insisted on holding three gates open for me and had begged me to take care over rough ground twice, my temper was at boiling point. As we emerged from the trees by the river, a pheasant flew up, startling Arianna, who half reared, whinnying with fright. Quite used to her sudden frights, I kept my seat easily; ready to let her have her head if she wished to gallop. But before her front legs touched the ground, my cousin had grasped her reins just above the bit, bringing her to a complete halt.
‘Let my horse go at once,’ I ordered him through clenched teeth.
‘But, Mistress … ’
‘Don’t Mistress Eleanor me and don’t interfere with my riding.’ My voice was quiet but shook with anger. Gregory looked taken aback and released the reins. I urged Arianna forward and she responded by breaking into a canter and soon lengthened her stride into a gallop. The ground was soft but not wet enough to make the going heavy. I leaned low over her neck, calling encouragement to her, until she was almost flying over the grass. I could hear Gregory’s horse gaining on us and urged her still faster.
Once we reached the stream at Iford, the two horses were side by side. I slowed Arianna to wade through the clear water, glad of the shade the overhanging trees offered. I heard my cousin’s laughter over the splashing of the water, and looked round to see what amused him.
‘By God, Cousin Eleanor, you would ride the devil out of hell!’ he said and this time there was a note of ad
miration in his voice that made me flush with pleasure. I leaned forward and patted Arianna’s sweating neck to hide the colour in my cheeks.
‘Thank you, cousin.’ Then I grinned at him. ‘You know, we would get along a good deal better if you treated me as you were used to do, and not like some helpless lapdog. For indeed, I am no such thing.’
‘But you are no longer a little girl. And I am no longer a heedless youth,’ Gregory argued.
‘You are not so very old,’ I said. ‘I see no stubble upon your cheek.’ But he was barely listening, his brow furrowed with unease.
‘I am a man and you are a beautiful young woman,’ he tried to explain. ‘You should be worshipped and served. You need to be protected from danger.’
‘Stuff and nonsense!’ I exclaimed indignantly. ‘Where did you get such ideas? You have become so very bound by silly conventions.’
My cousin mumbled something about the code of chivalry. I didn’t quite catch it and shrugged impatiently.
‘That’s not the sort of protection I need,’ I told him. ‘Not help through gates and mounting my horse and suchlike.’ I gave my cousin a sidelong glance as our horses walked side by side. I was in need of protection in much more serious matters than my cousin meant. I wondered how much he remembered of the events that had taken place just before he left Farleigh.
‘Tell me, cousin,’ I asked. ‘Does Sir Walter believe in the code of chivalry?’
‘Of course!’ exclaimed Gregory. ‘What gentleman does not? Sir Walter is a powerful and highly-respected man. He is a fine gentleman and most gallant to the ladies.’
‘Oh, to the ladies! I’m sure he is,’ I retorted drily. ‘But not to his wife. He does not use my mother as he ought.’
‘But, Eleanor, you are mistaken. Indeed you must be. Your poor dear mother is sick and he takes the greatest care of her. Everyone says so.’
‘You know that is not true!’ I retorted bitterly. ‘Have you forgotten how he arrived home suddenly and locked her up for no reason?’ My cousin was silent.
The Lady in the Tower Page 6
