It was the beginning of the end for her. Only Anthony knew where she was. She wondered what he thought about what his much loved cousin had done with his lawful wife! It mattered not what he thought; he would support Richard in all things. God punishes in His own way and in His own time and that is what He was doing now. She had little choice but to accept her fate and think about how easy it would be for him to dispose of her, now he had isolated her, kept people away with tales of leprosy. He could come in the night, or even in broad daylight, and no one would even miss her.
***
Spring came and brought beautiful colours to the trees, those colours which reminded her painfully of the first few weeks in this place, the weather grew warm and she was able to spend time walking in the forest. She found the place where they had first made love and lay down to rest there with her memories.
She had been living in that dark and dismal place for months, alone with no one to talk to. She was terribly lonely, and the lonelier she became the more she hated that damned woman her husband was keeping in his bed at the Palace. Sometimes she thought of going there, of confronting her and tearing her fingernails through that perfect face. But she was a peasant now, with no rights, and her fingernails were non existent due to the hard work and lack of nourishment. Although food was left, it was not of the best quality and her cooking left much to be desired. She would never be a grand lady again, never have that position which had cost her so dearly.
Then she heard a child’s laughter and stood up, moving to the edge of the wood to see a girl, barely sturdy on her little legs, playing with a young woman whom Bethany had never seen before. It was her little Alicia. She could run now, she could laugh and she could play and her mother could do nothing but watch. And watch she did, every single day of that spring and summer she would sit at the edge of the trees, out of sight, and watch her play, listen to her laughter as the woman pushed her high on the swing.
Bethany stopped feeling sorry for herself because of her. She brightened her days and made her miserable existence worth living, and she dreaded the colder weather when she would play inside, out of sight. What was she going to do then? It was torture to watch her and not be able to wrap her arms around her and hold her close.
She had just returned to the cottage one day in late summer when she heard her name being called softly from behind the wall. She turned swiftly, wondering if she had imagined it. Nobody knew she was there, nobody save Richard and his cousin. Then a face appeared around the side of the cottage and made her start violently.
“Charles? What are you doing here?”
She took his hand and pulled him inside, looking about anxiously, afraid someone would see him, recognise him, end both their lives.
“I have been watching this place, hoping to find a way to use it again. Imagine my surprise to find you here.”
“No,” she replied shaking her head. “No way in the world can this place ever be used again. It would be the death of us both.” She paused and looked up at him. “How are you still alive? Richard discovered me, discovered our plan. I never knew what happened to the poor souls who were waiting for the next trip out, or what happened to Martin. I suppose they are all dead.”
He wore a little puzzled frown as he shook his head.
“We had word, a warning to cancel that night’s evacuation and all future ones. I assumed it came from you. I knew the Earl had discovered what we were doing, I was told. I worried about what had happened to you, but when I enquired, I had word that you were living with him at court.”
She laughed derisively, but she was not about to tell him the truth. He would use it against Richard, she had no doubt of that.
“I have been watching you for hours,” he went on, “gathering kindling, carrying logs and food from the church door like any peasant. I could not believe it was you.” His eyes swept her clothing, then looked around the cottage with a grimace. “Are you hiding, or has he imprisoned you here to live like this?” He said with a frown of disgust. “His own wife?”
“Do not fret, Charles. It is better than the alternative.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“You fear for your safety?” He asked with a frown of concern. “Then do not stay. Come with me; you can help more with the cause.”
She shook her head, sudden terror running through her. She had done enough, too much. She could not face it all again.
“No, Charles. I am not brave enough for that.”
“But you put yourself in danger every time you send me warnings. Do you not know that? If His Lordship would condemn his wife to the life of a peasant, he would surely have no hesitation in charging you with treason.”
She studied his face for a little while, wondering what he was talking about.
“Of what warnings do you speak, Charles? I know nothing about this.”
“What?” He looked startled. “I have been receiving them for months now, letters usually left at the door during the night. Sometimes they have been shot with an arrow into the doorframe.”
She laughed.
“I have never been proficient in archery. What sort of warnings?”
“Warnings that have saved the lives of our people. Little notes that give details of when the Queen’s men are going to be in certain places, when they could have caught us all. Sometimes they have forestalled a planned trip, sometimes they are of no use whatsoever.” He turned away briefly, then looked back at her. “If not you, then who?”
“I have no idea, Charles. Be sure that I have not been privy to the sort of knowledge you speak of. I have not left this place for almost a year. The Queen could be dead for all I know.”
“Sadly, no,” he replied, shaking his head. “I was sure it was you. Who on earth else would be doing this?”
She could think of no one who would do such a thing, no one who would be knowledgeable enough but secretly on the side of the Protestant cause.
“So will you let me take you away from this place?” Charles asked quietly.
“No,” she replied. “My little girl is here. I will not leave her.”
He was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke again.
“Forgive me,” he said at last. “I did not know you had a child.”
“Why should you? We know little about each other really, do we?”
“Then she is Simon’s half sister,” he said quietly. “What a very strange idea.”
He pulled her toward him and held her close, not in any passionate way but as a brother might hold a much loved sister. He meant nothing to her, but just to feel the warm and comforting arms of a man again almost made her agree to go with him. Had it not been for Alicia, she would have agreed without hesitation and to hell with what Richard had ordered.
“I shall take my leave then,” he murmured. “I see I am putting you in danger by simply being here. But I still have no idea who our friend at court might be.”
And neither had she, but as she watched him disappear among the trees she suddenly felt bereft. It had been so good to have someone to talk to, even for such a brief time. She had not realised how much she missed human companionship. Perhaps it was Richard’s plan to drive her mad, after all.
***
Once the warmer weather came life was not as bad in the cottage as Bethany had expected it to be. The truth was she was getting used to living like this and would not have suffered so much had she had something to read, or someone to talk to. She was proficient now in lighting her own fires and cooking her own food. It was a new experience and not a real hardship, when she considered what other people suffered. At least she had food, which is more than many had.
She remembered that first day when Richard had taken her to meet some of the tenants on the estate, how he had told her he was no better than them, only more fortunate. She could well understand those sentiments now. Even with her poor clothing, her arduous chores and her loneliness, she was better off than many. She wondered what her father would say if he cou
ld see her now, he who had accumulated so much wealth and had thought himself very fortunate to have acquired the hand of an Earl for his daughter. He would probably say she got what she deserved, just as she told herself. But he still would have felt embarrassed to have his daughter living like this.
She dreaded another winter though. She had never been so cold in her life as in this place through the winter. The wind blew through the gaps between the screens and the wall, the snow and rain fell through the smoke hole in the roof, putting the fire out and reducing it to smoke that choked her. She spent most of that time buried under the fur covers left behind by Father O’Neil. All she could do was pray that her husband might find it in his heart to forgive her before the next winter came. She would beg that forgiveness willingly if only there were a safe way to contact him. She dare not write, even if she had anything to write with, for fear of her letter falling into the wrong hands. No one must know she was here, he had threatened to kill her if anyone found out, and she was sure he had meant every word.
She tried to hate him, tried to despise him for what he had done to her, but in her heart she knew she still loved him. She knew if he were here, she would fall on her knees before him just for one of those warm smiles, one of those tender kisses.
She often wondered if he ever thought about her, alone in her hovel. He had enough compassion to want to keep her from being hurt, from falling in love with him; surely he could find enough compassion to remember where she was, how she was living.
At night she would awake with a start at every noise, and the forest provided many of those. She was sure the night would come when he would kill her. She had tried to obey his commands, tried to stay isolated, and she did not think anyone had seen Charles, but the day came when a female voice called from outside the window.
“Mistress,” she called. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”
She peered through a gap in the waxed screen and saw the profile of the young woman she had seen with Alicia. Close up, she could see she was much younger than she had imagined, perhaps only sixteen or so. She had no idea who she was or why she had come, but she had to get rid of her. Her life depended on it.
“You must not be here, Lady,” Bethany said quickly. “I am a leper. His Lordship promised he would tell everyone not to come near.”
“Oh, I know that,” she persisted then moved toward the door.
“No!” She cried out. “You must not enter.”
“I am not afraid.”
“Then you should be. Perhaps you do not understand how infectious this disease is.”
“Was our Lord afraid to walk among the lepers?” She replied.
Was she likening herself to Jesus Christ? She could scarcely believe it. That was heresy even to her Protestant ears. Or was it blasphemy? It was difficult to tell at times.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Robina,” she replied. “I am His Lordship’s cousin, come from France.”
“Anthony’s sister?” Bethany said without thinking.
Robina drew a quick breath then was silent for a few moments before she spoke again.
“That is a familiar way to speak of my brother, Mistress,” she said sternly.
What could she do to take back the words? There must be something.
“Forgive me, Lady,” she said at once. “I meant Mr Anthony of course.”
“Of course. Anyway, I came to see if you needed anything.”
“No, nothing. Just to be left in peace.”
“Let me come in and pray with you,” she persisted. “The risk is mine.”
Through the gap in the screen Bethany could see the heavy crucifix dangling at her visitor’s waist, she could see the prayer book she had brought with her, a prayer book in Latin of course. Anthony had mentioned this girl briefly and she recalled him telling her how pious she was, how she would not tolerate even a hint of heresy. She wondered with what superstition she was filling her child’s head, and she resented her at once.
“No, Lady,” she replied at last. “The risk is mine. I promised His Lordship when he allowed me to stay here that I would have no contact with anyone. You are forcing me to break my promise and if his kin contracts this awful sickness, who do you imagine will be blamed? Not you, that is certain. He will turn me out if he finds out and I have nowhere else to go.”
If only that were true, that he would turn her out. What he would do would be far worse; he had promised her that and she had no reason to doubt him. As her sister had assured her, he was a man who kept his promises.
“But he will understand,” she insisted. “He will know you need to pray. What do you do for spiritual counselling, Mistress?”
Bethany had no answer for that. It had never even occurred to her that she was missing mass on a regular basis. She searched her mind to see if she knew of a leper chapel nearer than Cambridge where she could tell Robina she attended mass. She did not. Lepers would sit outside the churches sometimes so they could hear mass without coming into contact with the congregation.
“Please go, Lady,” Bethany begged. “I do not wish to harm you. You will contract this disease if you stay.”
“I am not afraid,” she said again with a slightly maniacal smile.
“Well I am. What about that little child I saw you with? Do you realise that you could pass this curse on to her? Or does that not matter?”
She caught her breath, Bethany was not sure whether at the realisation that she was right or because of her lack of respect for her rank. She was angry. Who was she to put her child at risk just to make herself feel important?
“Very well,” she said at last. “I will go. But be sure I will tell my brother how uncivil you have been to me. He will not like it, and he will be sure to tell His Lordship.”
With those words she turned and ran back toward the house, leaving Bethany to wonder if she would tell Anthony. It might be the best thing, as he would prevent another visit. On the other hand, he may decide to act, to save Richard from exposure. Her visit could be the beginning of the end, it could herald what she had feared all these months. She sat down on the bed and wept.
The following day seemed as though it might be the last of the warm days. It had begun with a damp mist in the air which would clear later, so she waited for the sun before she set out to take up her usual spot among the trees.
Alicia had come out but something was wrong. She seemed quiet today, somehow withdrawn. She wasn’t running and laughing as she had been on previous days and Bethany longed to run down the meadow and grab her into her arms. There was no sign of Robina, only a nurse which made it even more tempting. Oh God, how she longed to hold her! They stayed out perhaps ten minutes, no more, then the nurse picked her up and started back toward the house with her. Perhaps she had a little fever, Bethany thought. She would be better tomorrow. But the next day she did not appear at all, nor the next. She could not bear it, not knowing. She waited all day beside the trees, hoping Alicia would appear. The weather was warm again, there was no reason for her absence.
She made up her mind then. The following day, first thing she would make her way to the house even if it was dangerous and she would not care who saw her. She had to know what was wrong with her child. That was more important than anything, even the risk to her own life.
She would go via the underground passage from the church if she could break in. She had to know what was happening, had to be sure her daughter was safe. As she walked, she began to plan how she could manage it without being seen.
But when she returned to the cottage, the familiar black carriage was waiting outside.
Bethany stood and watched, afraid to move, afraid to go closer. Why had he come? This was the result of Robina’s visit, she was sure. Someone knew she was here and he had come to keep his promise. Perhaps he had taken Alicia away so she would know nothing when her mother was buried with honours.
She stood rigid for a long time, afraid to move lest she draw attention to her presence, wond
ering how she was going to escape without him seeing. She felt at her waist for her little pouch of berries, not knowing if she would have the courage to take the poison.
She could not decide what to do. Should she turn and run, hide among the trees, and then what? He would send a party out looking for her; she had nowhere to go. Or should she face him, put an end to the speculation and the fear she had known this past year? At least knowing once and for all would bring some relief. She was still there when he emerged from the cottage, her velvet gown clutched in his hands.
He saw her straight away; there was nowhere to hide, and he stood and stared at her for a moment, almost as though he did not recognise her, as though he wondered who she was.
“Bethany,” he spoke urgently. “Come inside. You need to change at once.”
What now? What devious plan had he dreamed up this time? He must have known about Charles’ visit, must have sent his spies to watch her every move. So now he was about to destroy him and he wanted her for…what? And why must she change for the charade?
“Please,” he persisted. “There is little time. Your daughter needs you.”
CHAPTER NINE
The message from Anthony went to Richmond first. Lord knows why! Perhaps he thought Richard was there, but at any rate it was delayed and Richard was desperate to get to his daughter before it was too late.
He had so many things on his mind already, Rachel’s safety being a priority. And Rachel would never have been at risk were it not for his treacherous wife. He should have made her come to court, he should have made her pretend if that is what it took. Why had he been so weak as to want to protect her and put Rachel in danger?
She mentioned that morning she was afraid the Queen was beginning to suspect and he had already noticed a change in Her Majesty’s demeanour. He told Rachel to leave Finsbury and go back to Suffolk, use her own name.
This letter about Alicia made him realise he would have to face Bethany again. If Alicia were as ill as Anthony said, she had a right to be with her. He would never live with his conscience if he denied her that right.
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