Murder in the Queen's Garden

by Amanda Carmack

  “Forgive me! I was not paying attention,” she gasped, falling back a step. She had been doing that far too much of late and knew she needed to be far more cautious. To watch every ripple of what happened around her.

  The man took her arm to steady her, and she looked up to see it was Lord Arundel himself who stood before her. He was magnificently dressed as always, in a gold satin doublet that blended into his graying auburn hair, but his face was deeply creased.

  “My lord,” she said, quickly dropping a curtsy.

  He shook his head, as if to clear his bad thoughts away, and squinted at her closely. “You are Mistress Haywood, are you not? The queen’s musician?”

  Kate was startled he would know her name at all. There were hundreds of courtiers crowding his estate, and he was one of the wealthiest lords in the kingdom. “I am indeed Mistress Haywood, my lord.”

  “I wonder if I could ask your assistance in a most important matter, then.”

  Her assistance? Kate was baffled—and most curious. “I would be happy to help you, if I am able.”

  “They say the queen enjoys your music, that it often soothes her when nothing else can, and you are always with her court.”

  “I hope that is sometimes true, my lord. I do my best to serve her, as we all do.”

  “I fear—” Lord Arundel suddenly broke off, his face creasing even further, so he looked older than his fifty-some years. Kate remembered that it was said he thought to woo the queen, and now she wondered if that was indeed true. The poor man. “I fear she is not enjoying her visit as much as I would wish.”

  “Nonsuch is beyond compare, my lord, and I am sure the queen thinks so as well.”

  A smile flickered. “I wish to have a grand masquerade performed here in my banquet hall, an entertainment of Juno and Diana, and the marriage of Palamon to Emilia, a most well-known scene on the Continent,” he said quickly, almost eagerly. “I have my own Master of Revels, but I am now convinced that none could organize such a performance more guaranteed to please Her Majesty than you. Would you do such?”

  The marriage of Palamon, servant of Juno, wife of Zeus, to Emilia, votress of the virgin huntress-goddess Diana—the triumph of marriage over chastity. Mayhap a dangerous theme for the queen, who so far chose not to marry. But perhaps that was just the distraction Kate needed. Music, entertainment—surely that would erase thoughts of magic and danger. Ghosts. “I confess I would enjoy nothing more, my lord. But in such little time . . .”

  “My stewards would be entirely at your disposal,” Lord Arundel said quickly. “I would be happy to reward you most handsomely, Mistress Haywood.”

  Kate nodded, already thinking of music and costumes, the effects that would create the illusion of a goddess and her court. Perhaps Rob Cartman could help? But no, that would mean more time with him, the confounding man. “I shall do my best, my lord.”

  He nodded, his face already looking clearer. “I shall send my Master of Revels to you tomorrow, then. And the queen must know naught of it yet.”

  Bemused, Kate nodded and made her way back toward the royal bedchamber to make sure the wine had been delivered. The privy chamber was already much less crowded; it seemed everyone had left to prepare themselves for the banquet. But Sir Robert Dudley was there, no doubt waiting to escort the queen.

  He paced the length of the polished floor, his boots ringing in the quiet evening. His black-and-gold doublet, a match to the queen’s gown, gleamed. He frowned, as if deep in thought, but then he glimpsed Kate standing there and gave her a smile and quick bow. “Mistress Haywood.”

  “Sir Robert.” Kate curtsied and hurried past him into the bedchamber. She wondered what he thought of Lord Arundel’s efforts to woo the queen, of all the suitors who flocked around her. Mayhap that was why he visited Dr. Dee in the darkest hour of night, to ask the spirits to help his chances with Elizabeth.

  And perhaps that was what made Kate feel so much disquiet. She hated what she could not understand, and the forces of magic were quite beyond her.

  “Ah, Kate, you are back at last,” Queen Elizabeth cried. She stood in the middle of the bedchamber, fully dressed and bejeweled, so gloriously beautiful that surely any man would use any magic or masquerade he could to win her. “I vow I am terribly parched, and the wine the servant brought has gone sour . . .”

  * * *

  “Make way for the queen!”

  Queen Elizabeth’s heralds marched at the head of her procession, banners raised and trumpets ringing out as she made her way down the covered gallery leading from the palace to the temporary banqueting house at the top of a hill. The gallery walls were open to the night, revealing torches and bonfires flaring in the twilight. The carpet under their feet was just as deep a blue as the sky overhead, embroidered with moons and stars.

  Sir Robert Dudley escorted Queen Elizabeth, matching her so well with the splendor of his velvet and gold, his plumed cap fastened with a ruby the size of an egg. His black gold-lined cloak was tossed back carelessly over his shoulder as he leaned close to whisper in her ear. Elizabeth laughed, her beringed hand pressed to her lips, and on her other side Lord Arundel looked as if he might weep—or strike Sir Robert a fatal blow. Kat Ashley and Mary Sidney followed behind.

  Kate, from her place a few rows back with Violet and Lady Anne, studied Lord Arundel’s quiet fury and wondered again that a man so wealthy, who had been at court through so many monarchs, could be so hard-pressed to hide his thoughts. But then, if everyone was so easy to read, the queen would have no need of William Cecil’s spies. Kate would stage Lord Arundel’s masquerade and be glad of the merry distraction, little good though it would surely do him.

  She had little time to ponder Lord Arundel’s matrimonial follies, though. The procession moved ever forward, and she had to keep up. Lady Anne gave her an impatient glance, and Kate hurried to follow the snaking, glittering line along the narrow gallery.

  It opened suddenly into the vast banqueting house, and for a moment its grandeur dazzled Kate. She had seen so much in the last months with the royal court—the splendors of the coronation, palaces from Richmond to Eltham, banquet halls and gilded closets. But this was like something in an epic poem of enchanted realms and fairy spells. She remembered her earlier thoughts of King Arthur and his questing knights and realized that this would be the perfect setting for them and their fair ladies.

  She knew the banqueting house was a mere flimsy wooden structure, built hastily for this visit, but it didn’t look like that at all. The walls and the floor beneath the sea of satin shoes were painted to look like pale marble topped with carved gilded moldings. The low timber-laced ceiling was covered with red buckram and embroidered with Tudor roses and the crowned falcon that had once been Anne Boleyn’s badge and was now her daughter’s. Tiered buffet cabinets lined the walls, displaying what seemed to be all of Arundel’s vast collection of gold and silver plates. Banners fluttered from the rafters, sewn with the coats of arms from all the great families.

  The queen’s court only added to the splendor, all their finest French fabrics and sparkling jewels on display, vying with one another in peacock colors. Kate was astonished at the beauty of it all. If she was to arrange a masquerade for the queen’s amusement, she had to learn from this. Surpass it.

  Lord Arundel led Elizabeth to the raised dais at the far end of the hall, set beneath a large mural painting depicting the queen herself with Nonsuch in the background, taller than the round towers.

  Pages in Arundel’s red-and-white livery led everyone to their seats at the rows of long tables spread with fine white damask cloths, their benches lined with soft gold velvet cushions. Every place, even that of the lowest maid, was set with a loaf of fine white manchet bread wrapped in a linen cover embroidered with more roses and falcons. A silver goblet filled to the brim with a rich red wine also sat at each place setting.

  To her surprise, Kate fou
nd herself not at the lowest tables with the maids of honor and pages, but just above the saltcellar with Anne and Violet. Across from them sat the handsome Master Green and Violet’s brother, Thomas Roland.

  “Such a fortunate evening for us, to have such loveliness to gaze upon,” Master Green said as he bowed over Violet’s hand, making her laugh and blush.

  Kate glimpsed Master Longville, Violet’s lovelorn suitor, watching her from the next table with wide eyes. Surely he was one of the unfortunate ones tonight. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him; he always watched Violet with such longing.

  “You are Mistress Haywood, are you not?” Master Roland said as they took their seats. Like his sister, he was delicate looking, fair colored, almost pretty, but where Violet was small he was broad shouldered and tall in his purple doublet. His smile was sweet and open.

  Kate had to laugh, remembering how Lord Arundel had said much the same thing when they met earlier. She had to be careful to be more unobtrusive. “I am. And I know you are Violet’s brother. She has been so excited to be able to see you again.”

  “And I her.” His smile grew as he glanced at his sister. “We were such companions when we were children, but our duties have kept us too much apart of late.”

  Kate wondered what it would be like to have such a sibling—or any sibling at all. “Surely a position as secretary to Lord Arundel gives you much satisfaction, and your family as well.”

  “So it does, Mistress Haywood. I have been learning a great deal from the household here at Nonsuch. But I do miss my family at times.”

  “As we miss you, Thomas,” Violet cried, tearing herself away from staring across the sparkling silver plate at Master Green. “Mama and Papa talk of you constantly when I am at home.”

  “I must say I am glad Violet has found such friends at court as you, Mistress Haywood,” Master Roland said, laughing at his sister’s enthusiasm. “My lord speaks highly of your great musical skills, which I hope we will hear more of before the court departs.”

  Kate was rather puzzled. There were many musicians. How could he, and his lord, have heard of her? “I am certainly happy my music pleases,” she said. “But I had no idea anyone such as Lord Arundel would know of it.”

  “He heard your praises from my own master, Mistress Haywood,” Master Green said. She glanced at him and could see why Violet was so dazzled. His golden beauty was astounding in the candlelight. “Surely you know Her Majesty’s cousin Lord Hunsdon? He says his sister, Lady Knollys, will play no songs but yours at her virginals.”

  Kate was shocked. Before she could answer, a lively chorus of tambours, lutes, and pipes struck up from a curtained gallery over their heads, and it was impossible to converse. Servants appeared with great golden platters bearing a feast of venison, capons in lemon sauce, partridge, tiny larks, eels in cinnamon, game pie dressed with rare Spanish oranges, and baked lampreys, as well as summer vegetable salads.

  At the end of the procession came a peacock, redressed in its own feathers and with gilt wrapped around its claws, and it was presented to the queen amid much applause.

  The queen stood with a bright smile. “Much thanks to Lord Arundel for such excellent amusement this night. The summer is the time for much merriment, methinks, so let us be to it, my friends. Play on, musicians!” Then she sat down to laugh again with Sir Robert, who sat beside her on the dais. She popped a candied orange into his mouth and smiled.

  The laughter flowed around Kate as she nibbled on a piece of gingerbread painted with gold leaf, listening with half an ear as Violet giggled with Master Green and Anne gossiped with the ladies on her other side about the new fashion in Venetian slippers.

  Kate sipped at her wine and studied the gathering. Master Longville watched Violet with the same hopeless eyes Lord Arundel used to look at the queen, and Kate couldn’t help but think of some pastoral play where the shepherd chased after his lass and was spurned at every corner. In a play it was funny. In life, it strangely made her feel like crying, especially in the midst of so much desperate summer merriment.

  Her gaze turned, and she glimpsed Lord Hunsdon and his wife, Lady Anne, talking and smiling quietly together. They didn’t seem sad at all, having come through so many years of travails and exile under Queen Mary to find favored places at the court of his niece Elizabeth.

  Kate glanced away, just as an acrobat performed a breathtaking series of backward flips down the aisle between the tables. He was clad in tight garments of bright red-and-green stripes, which outlined an impressively muscled, lean physique. A troupe of noisy, gamboling actors in bell-sewn motley, dwarves in miniature satin doublets and tinseled gowns, and trained dogs in frilled ruffs followed him. The ladies in the crowd gasped and waved, giggling, but whether at the dogs’ antics or the man’s masculine legs, Kate could not tell.

  It made her want to laugh herself, and she reached again for her wine. As she took a long drink, the acrobat showed off with a series of somersaults and graceful leaps, and when he finally turned his face in her direction, she almost gasped as she felt a little flutter in her lower belly. The man was Rob Cartman. She looked quickly away, not wanting to think about him tonight. He was a puzzle box of a man, and not something she needed to complicate her life.

  Kate noticed Violet’s brother watching her, and she saw his eyes narrow. He smiled when she caught his eye, and reached out to pour more wine into her goblet. He was all charm, yet she had the feeling he was like her—always watching. “Enjoying the evening, Mistress Haywood?”

  “Very much, Master Roland,” she answered.

  Before Master Roland could say anything else, Master Green clapped his hand onto his shoulder, laughing loudly from all the free-flowing wine, and the conversation turned. Indeed, the whole room seemed to be growing louder and louder, the air warmer, almost lightning bright around them. Only the dour new Spanish ambassador, Bishop de Quadra, and his entourage in their corner seemed immune to it all, as they always were.

  It was like a song meant to be danced to in a volta, faster and faster, almost out of control, as if the lute strings slipped between her fingers. She had a hard time breathing in her tight stays, and her cheeks felt warm from the wine. She looked to the queen’s dais, but Elizabeth seemed just as frantically merry as everyone else, laughing at Rob’s tricks, clapping her hands. Kat Ashley, who stood behind her, leaned close as if to whisper a motherly word, but Elizabeth waved her away.

  Almost unseen in the blur of color, Dr. Dee slipped into the room in his black robes and dark beard, Master Constable his constant shadow behind him. Much to her surprise, Dr. Dee went to the dais to speak to Sir Robert Dudley, whose own laughter suddenly dimmed at whatever the magus said.

  Startled by the strange scene, Kate set her goblet down on the table too suddenly. A drop of the red wine splashed over the silver rim and spots like new blood bloomed on the white damask cloth. Images flashed in her mind. Catherine Grey and the wine on her white gown when the queen pushed her away. Robert Dudley at that hidden cottage. Master Constable creeping close to the queen’s bedchamber.

  “Are you quite well, Mistress Haywood?” Master Roland asked solicitously. She looked at him, half-startled to find herself still in the midst of the banquet.

  “I—I am very well, Master Roland,” she said. She wondered if she was ale-shot, though she had been careful not to drink too quickly of the heady wine. She felt dizzy. She gestured toward the dais, where Dr. Dee and Sir Robert were still in close conversation. Sir Robert’s always-ready grin vanished; the queen remained oblivious. “I was just surprised to see Dr. Dee here. I have heard he is always very busy with his studies and has no time for frivolities such as banquets.”

  Master Roland looked to the dais with narrowed eyes. Kate wondered if he’d had his horoscope told, as Violet had, and if so, what it said.

  “More wine here, I do think,” Lady Anne said firmly, and gestured to one of the
servants to refill their goblets. “I think we have quite exhausted the topic of Dr. Dee and his tiresome assistant. I am quite aching to know more about your work with Lord Hunsdon, Master Green. Do tell me this one thing . . .”

  Kate was quite grateful for Lady Anne’s chatter, her cool social confidence. She neatly distracted Roland and Green, especially as the latter seemed a rather belligerent drunk. Kate took a sip from her own refreshed goblet and glanced around to see what Dr. Dee and the strange, lurking Master Constable were doing now. They were nowhere to be seen, but Rob Cartman caught her eye, and he seemed to see too much of what she would rather conceal. She turned sharply away.

  Robert Dudley had returned to the queen’s side, and they were laughing at the dwarves’ gamboling, applauding, and tossing tidbits of venison to the trained dogs. Their lightheartedness seemed to release something in everyone else, and as the wine flowed ever more freely, the waves of laughter grew higher and higher, more and more shrill. Aye, matters were swiftly spiraling out of control.

  A subtlety in sugar paste molded into the shape of Nonsuch was carried in as the finale to the banquet. It was perfectly rendered, with walls of red and white inlaid with blue gossamer windows and tiny curls of almond paste smoke from the chimneys. There was even a queenly figure in the doorway, all green and gold and bright red hair.

  Elizabeth clapped her hands in delight at the presentation, which made Lord Arundel beam anew. “It is too perfect to eat, I declare. Surely this is indeed the loveliest house in the world, just as my father intended.”

  Kate examined the candy castle, which was indeed exquisite. And unlike the real castle, surely it could not conceal old disappearances, old heartaches and betrayals, as once it did with King Henry? Illusions were fine things indeed.

  Robert Dudley leaned back carelessly in his seat, his hand resting lazily on the edge of the queen’s chair. His smile seemed hardened around his handsome dark eyes.