I had no one to talk to, but that was what I preferred. I had my books into which I could disappear, and even had there been anyone, I would not have had anything to say. What could someone like me say to anyone? My only experiences of life were not something I wanted to speak of.
I had become a recluse and rarely left the house. The King’s marriage to Jane Seymour had produced a much wanted heir and it was the celebration of the prince’s birth that brought an invitation to court and it was not one I could refuse.
I was very much afraid that now that I was older, I might once more attract the King’s attention should I show myself at court, even though it was said that he was much devoted to Queen Jane. I had no male protector to accompany me, either, which was not a normal state of affairs. I had no idea if I was supposed to go alone or bring one of the manservants with me. My uncle could not be presented, as he was a commoner, but I decided it was high time I paid him a visit anyway.
I had not seen him since my marriage to the Earl of Connaught and I had no wish to ever see him again, but for what I had in mind it was necessary.
He looked up from his paperwork when a maidservant let me in to his private rooms, but he could not even muster a smile for me.
“Rachel,” he said. “Or should I say, Your Ladyship? What are you doing here?”
“I need money,” I replied at once. I had no experience of building up to things, of explaining myself or making small talk. “I want to take the veil and there are no institutions left in England. I want to go to France, but I do not have the funds.”
He frowned at me for a moment then shrugged.
“No,” he said.
I was taken aback. I know not why I expected him to simply hand over the necessary funds, but it seemed that it would be to his advantage as well as mine. Sealed up behind convent walls, he would have no further need to think about me at all. I had not anticipated an argument.
“Why? You have no need of me. What difference does it make to you?”
“You have your husband’s pension and his house. If you leave, you will lose that and when you decide to return there will be nowhere for you to go.”
“Return? Why would I want to return?”
“You are young,” he replied. “You have no idea to what you are committing yourself. You will find another husband.”
I was shaking my head, the idea sending a shudder through me.
“No!” I cried, raising my voice a little in panic. It occurred to me then for the first time that my uncle might take this request as an invitation to find me another husband, but I hoped I was wrong. He had no access to the court, but that had not stopped him before. “I have no wish to remarry, Uncle. I only want to take the veil, to be somewhere quiet where I am not obliged to be with any man.”
“The idea of all that beauty shut away behind convent walls is barbaric,” he said. “I am your guardian and I will not allow it.”
“You will allow me to be used though, will you not? You will allow me to be taken advantage of by disgusting old men, and paraded around like a lovely doll. You will allow me to prostitute myself to the King of England, to be sent for to share his bed like any common whore off the streets!”
I realised that was the absolute longest speech I had ever given in my life and wondered where the words had come from. Perhaps they had been building up for so long that they came out of their own accord.
My uncle did not look shocked, just pleased. A little smile started to form on his lips.
“The King? The King has sent for you to lie with him?”
“A long time ago, yes.”
“Just once?” He sounded disappointed at that. “What did you do to disappoint him? You could have asked favours, titles.”
Titles for himself he meant.
“I did nothing, just as I had been taught. Lie still and suffer for their pleasure.” He flinched then, but said no more. “Would you perhaps have me deceive the King into believing that I might produce a son, just as you deceived Lord Connaught?”
He sighed and shook his head.
“I will not allow you passage to France,” he said at last. “It is not what my sister would have wanted.”
“What do you care? How do you know what my mother might have wanted? You did not even know her, did not bother to find out about her suffering.”
“The King has dissolved all the abbey lands. It would not be a good reflection on our family if you were to go to France to join one. It could be dangerous.”
“For you, maybe. Not for me; I would be safe in France!”
I turned and fled the room in tears. This had been my only hope that I might not have to attend the baptism celebrations, that I would not be required to go to court and perhaps attract the attention of yet another lecherous man. Perhaps I could feign illness.
When I got home my manservant told me that I had a visitor.
“The Earl of Summerville is here to see you, My Lady,” he said.
“The Earl of who?”
Of course he did not reply but took my cloak and turned away, while I stood and wondered what sort of man had been sent to meet me this time. I would not marry this one, no matter what the King said. I was supposed to consent to a marriage, that was the law, but what chance had I of refusing if the King ordered it? The punishment for disobeying would be great indeed.
While I stood I remembered the endless nights with Lord Connaught, my night with the King and the pain involved in both. I remembered my tenth birthday, and tears sprang to my eyes. I wanted desperately to turn and run from the house, but I had nowhere to go. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to walk into the chamber and meet this man, and discover what he wanted from me.
The man who quickly got to his feet when I appeared was not at all what I had been expecting. He was young for one thing, not much older than me, and pleasing to look upon with his dark hair and eyes.
He approached me and bowed over the hand I presented to him then he looked up quickly as I shrank away and immediately released me. He smiled then, and it was not a smile I had ever seen directed at me before, not a smile of lasciviousness nor of satisfaction, not even a smile of admiration. It was a smile of delighted pleasure, of real warmth.
“My Lady,” he said gently. “His Majesty has asked me to present myself to you as a possible escort to the celebrations for the Prince’s birth. I am told you have no male relative to accompany you.”
“That is kind of you, My Lord,” I replied nervously.
“Not kind at all,” he insisted. “My wife is unable to attend and I am only too happy to assist a beautiful woman.”
I stiffened as the words ‘beautiful woman’ brought a cold scowl to my expression and I know that he noticed it.
“I trust it is nothing serious,” I said, “that is keeping Lady Summerville from attending herself.”
He studied me for a few moments before he replied.
“Not serious, no,” he said, “but likely incurable.”
I hardly knew what to say to that. How an illness could be incurable but not serious was beyond me, and I was not about to ask.
“Can I offer you some refreshments, My Lord?” I asked, changing the subject.
“That would be welcome,” he replied. “We can discuss the details for tomorrow night, assuming that my company will be acceptable to you.”
“Of course, My Lord,” I replied uncertainly. “I am grateful.”
There was really not much to discuss, as it happens, just times and when his carriage would arrive for me. It seemed that he wanted an excuse to stay, but for the first time in my life I did not feel threatened by his interest, nor did I feel the need to hurry the meeting.
He was young, handsome and married. Despite his odd statement about his wife, I imagined him to be quite happy with her and not in need of anything else. He could afford to give his time to talk to me.
The following hour was the first time in my life that a man, or anyone else for that matter apart from
my mother, had actually talked to me. It seemed that this man was interested in me, me as a person not as a plaything or breeding vessel. Even when the King asked about me, I could tell that he was not really listening, that he just wanted to get on with the business of bedding me.
This Earl asked about my family, about my late husband, he asked about me, what things I liked to do. I could scarcely find the words to reply. I could hardly tell him about my late husband, since I barely even knew his name, nor about my tastes since I did not really have any.
“I spend a lot of time reading, My Lord,” I replied. “I am used to my own company.”
“Perhaps we can change your mind about that,” he said. “You are young. You should be enjoying life, not hiding away from it.”
“I have seen little to enjoy so far, My Lord,” I told him.
I wanted to say a lot more, to tell him that I did not feel safe outside the house, that each time I showed my face somebody thought they had the right to use me to their own ends, because I had no means of my own. It seemed to me that this man would understand, though I had no idea why I thought so. He was a complete stranger, after all.
The following evening he arrived in a huge black carriage bearing his family crest. I was very nervous, I have to admit. I had not set foot inside the palace since that disastrous night when I was ‘honoured’ to share the King’s bed and just being there brought up memories I would rather forget.
But my companion was as charming as he was handsome and we danced and ate and talked together like old friends. Not once was there a hint of anything untoward, no false flattery or unnecessary compliments which I did not trust, and I found to my surprise that I was actually enjoying myself. As usual there were many admiring glances that came my way, but there were an equal amount of women intensely interested in my companion.
It was the early hours of the morning when he delivered me back to my house and I was quite sad to see the evening end. Somehow he had instilled a confidence in me that I had never had before and I determined that things would change, that I would no longer listen at doors nor allow the servants to treat me like a child. Perhaps I could even choose one of them to be my special maid and companion as I had heard other ladies do.
“May I call on you again, My Lady?” The Earl was saying as he bade me goodnight by kissing my hand, an action that for the first time did not repel me.
I felt deflated by those words. Was this it then? Was he going to propose some sort of liaison like all the others, spoil the impression I had formed about him?
“Why would you want to do that, My Lord?” I asked abruptly.
“Because I think you are in need of a friend,” he replied with a gentle smile. “And I would very much like to offer my services for that position.”
It was not what I expected to hear but I could not help but think there must be some ulterior motive behind his offer.
“Will Lady Summerville be accompanying you, My Lord?” I asked significantly, wanting him to know that I had not forgotten his married state.
He was thoughtful for a few moments before he finally replied with a heavy sigh.
“She will if you want her to,” he replied, but his expression had changed to one of concern. “I can bring her, but she will have nothing to say.”
“I do not understand you, Sir.”
“Suffice it to say,” he said, “that she does not enjoy my company.”
I spoke without thinking.
“I cannot believe that to be true,” I said then quickly regretted it. “Forgive me. That was forward and not my concern.”
“No matter.” He paused then and gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment. “If I do bring her here,” he went on, “would you think it an awful liberty if I asked you a favour?”
“What favour?”
“Would you talk to her? Try to find out why she is so afraid of me.” He looked a little embarrassed but he continued: “I have never hurt her; I never would. She will not tell me, and she will not tell my mother.”
“Your mother?” I replied, again without thinking. “I am not surprised. No woman would want to talk about intimate things to her husband’s mother.”
How I knew that I could not have said. I could only imagine if Lord Connaught had had a mother how it would have been to discuss his habits with her, or even the fact that he would not speak to me.
Lord Summerville seemed satisfied with my reply, but I could not help but feel sympathy for him. He seemed sad suddenly, as though mention of his wife had exposed him, kept him from hiding his hurt beneath his charm. I had been subjected to the most selfish and brutal behaviour by men and here was one of that gender actually concerned that his wife should be happy. I had no idea that such a creature existed.
“I shall take my leave and let you rest. Think about what I asked, please. I would consider it a great service and one more thing; please do not allow yourself to be hidden away.” He paused for a moment before he went on: “I realise that you do not wish to hear it, but you really are far too beautiful to hide yourself away.”
He left then while I watched him climb into his carriage and wave goodbye to me. I waved back, feeling somewhat disorientated. This had been a night of firsts for me. That was the first time anyone had told me I was beautiful without making me feel uncomfortable. The Earl had stated it as a fact, not in an admiring way but as he might have said the sky was blue or the grass was green. It was a strange feeling.
And I thought hard and long about his odd request. He had given me a lot in that one evening, far more than he could ever even suspect, and I felt I owed him something in return. Perhaps I could bring myself to speak to Lady Summerville, to befriend her and learn what troubled her. I had little experience of the normal world, but I could try to do it for him.
I was half afraid that my new found confidence might desert me after sleeping, but I still felt it when I awoke and I decided to do what I should have done months ago. I knew that one of my servants was robbing me, one of the senior ones at that who my late husband had placed in a position of trust. I determined to speak to her that morning, before my courage fled.
“I wish to know, Alice,” I said firmly when she brought my breakfast, “What you have done with my diamond bracelet.”
“My Lady? Have you lost another piece of jewellery?”
“I have not. Nor have I lost any others.” I found the anger then to carry on. I had been treated like a backward child long enough. “I know you have stolen from me. I do not want someone in my house whom I cannot trust with my possessions or my secrets.”
I thought she might at least lower her gaze, look ashamed, ask forgiveness. She would have had I been a man or a woman with more power. As it was, I was a helpless creature with no money and no male protection except an uncle who was not allowed to go to the same places as I, and who did not care for me anyway.
She shrugged and put down the tray.
“You mean like the handsome secret who brought his carriage for you last night, My Lady?” She asked impertinently.
“Lord Summerville is not a secret,” I replied angrily. “He was sent by the King himself to escort me to the ball.”
There was a definite smirk on her round face which made me angry enough to strike her, but I managed to keep myself under control.
“He may not be a secret yet,” she went on, “but give him time.”
No ‘My Lady’ that time. The woman was getting bolder and more insolent.
“What does that mean exactly,” I demanded.
“Let us just say that His Lordship has something of a reputation with the ladies,” she replied with that same smirk. “I mean, look at him! He would not give me a second glance but if he did, I would not be the one to refuse him.”
I was horrified, both by her implication and by her brazenness.
“You have a foul mind, mistress,” I replied quickly, “and I will thank you to remove it and yourself from my house and from my employment. You have one hour to get yo
ur things together and leave, and I mean your things, not mine!”
“You cannot do that,” she argued. “I am not employed by you. You do not pay my wages.”
“My late husband did not employ you to steal from me and accuse me of adultery.”
“Your late husband did not employ me at all! It is your uncle who pays for this house and the servants, your clothing and your sustenance.” She took a deep breath and looked satisfied that she had shocked me.
“My uncle?” I replied, shaking my head. “No. You are wrong. The Earl left this house and pension for me during my lifetime.”
“No, he left you nothing. He did not care if you starved on the streets. It is your uncle who bought the house at auction and keeps you.”
“Get out!” I screamed. “Get out now, and do not return!”
I must have screamed very loudly because at that moment Harry, one of the men servants opened the door without knocking and appeared with a look of real concern.
“My Lady,” he said quickly. “Is everything all right?”
“No, it is not. Can you make sure that this woman takes her belongings and leaves my house at once? Or do you have some objection to my making those decisions?”
“No, My Lady,” he replied quietly. “Whatever you say.”
“Good, because if you cannot do that, you may go with her and anyone else who feels they have the right to steal from me.”
He took her arm and guided her to the door but I stopped him before he left the room.
“Have the carriage brought round, please. I wish to visit my uncle.”
I could hardly believe what the woman had told me. How could my uncle have deceived me like this, and what was his motive? Why did he not want the credit for his good act? Did he suppose I might be too proud and want to move into his house instead? Just as if I could be too proud for anything.
He was busy writing when I was shown into his rooms. He looked up with an irritated frown, as though I had interrupted something much more interesting and important. I realised all at once that he still treated me as the poor little wretched child who first appeared on his doorstep seven years ago and my newly discovered confidence was not going to allow it to continue.
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