“Lady Caitlyn.” Queen Elizabeth broke through Caitlyn’s foggy thoughts and beckoned her over. “The king informed me this morn that he is considering your suitors.”
My suitors? I only had one, and he won’t marry me.Caitlyn kept her expression neutral despite being disconcerted.
“Since Armstrong isn’t pursuing his courtship anymore, it is time to cast the net elsewhere. The king asked for my opinion, but I’m wary to name anyone. I’m not confident any mon here makes a sound choice for you.” Queen Elizabeth’s pointed stare at Caitlyn’s exposed arms said more than words could. Not for the first time, she wondered why Queen Elizabeth summoned first Cairren, then Caitlyn, to court if she assumed they couldn’t fit in and couldn’t find suitable husbands.
When Caitlyn said nothing, the queen pushed forward. “Is there someone you fancy? Other than Armstrong?”
“Nay, Your Majesty.”
“Does that mean you might be amenable to whoever I suggest?”
Amenable? I don’t get a ruddy choice in this blummin’ situation. What can I say? “No. Please don’t make me marry anyone but the love of my life.” A love who doesn’t want you beyond making love to you once.
“I’m certain Your Majesty will recommend only men you believe are suitable.”
“Hmm.” Queen Elizabeth pursed her lips at the not-so-subtle point. “I shall give this matter serious consideration. No one wishes for you to experience what your sister did. Fortunately, you’re lighter skinned than she is.”
Caitlyn clenched her teeth so hard she feared cracking them. It was one thing when she made that observation since it was fact. But when others said it, the words were so condemning to Cairren and made Caitlyn feel ashamed for having an easier experience than Cairren. Though she could hardly say she was well-received herself. Caitlyn dipped into a curtsy and stepped back from the queen. She wondered who would tell Alex. Part of her hoped someone else did, so she wouldn’t have to bring it up. But eventually, he would have to learn that the royal couple were playing matchmaker again, and it would finally sever their connection.
“You need to be more mindful of the sun,” Sarah Anne Hay mused. “You’re as dark as a Saracen.” The malicious lady-in-waiting laughed at her own comment, before looking at the women who surrounded her and Caitlyn. They laughed uneasily, but their haughty expressions were genuine.
“You’re nearly as brown as your sister. We shall lose you in the dark.” Margaret came to stand beside her sister, Sarah Anne. It was a ridiculous comment, so Caitlyn merely stared at Margaret as though the other lady-in-waiting were a simpleton.
“I believe Lady Caitlyn and Lady Munro have magnificent complexions,” Blythe Dunbar stepped beside Caitlyn. “Even her freckles are evenly spaced. Not like your blotchy red spots.” Blythe smirked at Margaret, whose complexion was rarely clear.
“But you can see the lily-white skin beneath.” Sarah Anne attempted to defend her sister.
“Aye. The red is the only thing that keeps her from looking like the harbinger of death.” Blythe mocked both with her words while she pretended to swing a scythe around the group, as though she were an ancient banshee.
“Where were you last night?” Margaret changed the subject and returned the focus to Caitlyn.
“Unable to join you for the evening meal,” Caitlyn hedged.
“Och, aye. You were out gallivanting with Alexander Armstrong. You spent the night with him.” Sarah Anne raised her chin and attempted to peer down her nose at Caitlyn. It failed since they were of a similar height.
“You’ve answered your own question, so what does my answer matter?”
“Because when we watched you ride out yester morn, I swore you’d lift your skirts for him before you returned. I’d even guess you lifted them for all the men you rode—” Sarah Anne sneered “—with.”
“Mayhap we should have that midwife examine you like you always suggest.” Margaret cocked an eyebrow.
“So you’re willing to be examined after me?” Caitlyn’s smug expression matched Margaret’s. “Do tell, which butcher sells the cheapest chicken blood?”
Margaret huffed and opened her mouth, but Queen Elizabeth’s throat clearing made the ladies fall silent. Caitlyn stepped away from Margaret and Sarah Anne before she said something she couldn’t take back or that the queen overheard. But such caution was not part of the sisters’ ladylike comportment.
“They should send her and her people back where they came from,” Sarah Anne whispered dramatically to all around them to hear.
“There’s a reason our Crusaders were victorious over those demons. God made us white, so that we might shine with His light. He made them look like mud.” Margaret stared at Caitlyn as she spewed each word.
“And yet, Christ, the Lord’s only son, was from there and resembled me more than you,” Caitlyn pointed out, wondering for the umpteenth time why no one else had reasoned that out.
“He did not!” Sarah Anne squawked. “He was naught like those disgusting savages God sent him down to tame.”
“Tame?” Caitlyn guffawed. “I’ve noticed you sleep through most Masses, but have you never listened to a priest? Tame?” Caitlyn’s laughter trailed behind her as she glanced at the queen, who nodded her head. Caitlyn left the solar before she got into an argument where she said things she regretted. She appreciated Her Majesty sparing her.
As she wound her way through the passageways, the same sense of danger consumed her. She hadn’t considered the foolhardiness of leaving the solar alone when someone had already followed her. She glanced around as she slid her hand into her hidden pocket. Her other hand went to the dirk at her waist.
She rounded a corner to her right and glanced back. Five men didn’t try to be inconspicuous. When her gaze met one man in the middle, he gestured to his comrades. They hastened their pace toward Caitlyn, who lifted her skirts to her knees. She counted on knowing the keep better than these men. She bolted along the corridor, then slipped through a servants’ door. She raced down the stairs, nearly tripping over her skirts twice. She gathered all the fabric and lifted it entirely to her knees.
