When Carrie finished adjusting the last curl off her neck, she said softly, “You are a vision and no mistake, my lady. He will be very proud of you.”
I hope so, Minuette thought, without knowing if Carrie meant William or Dominic or both. She had never spoken directly of either one to her maid, but she didn’t have to. Carrie had seen her weep at Hever and shiver at Hampton Court, and Minuette had often come back to her rooms flushed and happy or thoughtful and melancholy, depending on the occasion. Sometimes she believed Carrie knew her heart better than she did.
So happy, so proud, so delighted was Minuette on this night that she could not believe her eyes when she entered the great hall and the first person she sighted was Eleanor Percy. She had not seen William’s former mistress since the night of her husband’s death (the night I killed her husband, she thought, then forced the memory away) and Minuette had never anticipated seeing her again at court, preening at a bemused Earl of Pembroke as though she had never been away.
Her surprise meant she didn’t move quickly enough, and Eleanor seized the moment. “Mistress Wyatt,” she cried. “What a pleasure! How…sweet you look tonight.” Eleanor managed to make it sound as though Minuette were a twelve-year-old still dressed for the schoolroom.
But as always with Eleanor, Minuette knew precisely the right response. “Thank you. You are looking very…maternal.”
Maybe not precisely the right response, for Eleanor’s smile widened and she said, “If you could only see my daughter. She is so lovely, with her red-gold hair.”
The colour of the Tudors’, she didn’t say. She didn’t have to. Everyone knew her daughter was William’s and not her dead husband’s. Minuette wanted nothing more than to slap her smiling face, or retort that William meant to give her a crown as well as children, but the reasonable part of her was watching it all with amusement, her mind whispering,Why do you care? It’s Dominic you love. And even as your friend, William never loved Eleanor as he loves you.
Reasonable as that voice was, truthfully the only thing that lifted Minuette’s chin was the memory of William on his knees before her, pleading with her to marry him. “I confess myself astonished to see you. But then, the king has always been kind to those in less fortunate circumstances.”
“My widowhood, you mean?” Eleanor asked.
And for an instant Minuette was sickeningly ashamed of herself. Eleanor was a widow because of her. She managed to say, more gently, “I am sorry for your husband’s death.” More than you’ll ever know, she thought.
But Eleanor was a survivor and she didn’t bother to play the grieving wife for Minuette. Instead, she shrugged and said, “Life goes on, Mistress Wyatt. And life is full of opportunities.”
So much for kindness; Eleanor was laying down battle lines, and so Minuette let her dislike of the woman guide her own steps straight to William. Usually they circled each other in public—William for discretion’s sake, Minuette for Dominic’s sake—but tonight she behaved as she’d used to when William was nothing more than her friend, and laid claim to him as Eleanor had always driven her to do.
When she slipped her hand through William’s arm, he startled for a moment, distracted from his conversation with the new Duke of Norfolk and Bishop Bonner. But he covered it quickly and conversed for another minute. Bonner looked at her thoughtfully when the two men bowed themselves away, but she ignored the bishop. It felt wonderful to look at William and say, “Wouldn’t you like to dance?”
He tilted his head and she saw his other hand begin to rise, as though he meant to touch her cheek. But he refrained and said only, “What has prompted this?” Even as he asked, however, comprehension came. “Ah, I see.”
“You didn’t tell me she would be returning to court.”
“It was a last-minute arrangement. Norfolk is her nephew by marriage and she came with the family—”
“The family whose name she quickly dropped so as not to be tainted.”
“I could hardly say no to her presence tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” His voice lowered. “You know that it’s all over between us, don’t you? I care nothing for Eleanor. I care nothing for anyone but—”
He stopped himself, aware of how very public this discussion was. That same reasonable voice prodded Minuette’s conscience.Why are you so pleased with William’s declarations?
She told that voice to be quiet as William used his hold on her hand to guide her into the opening steps of a galliard. She allowed herself to dance without thinking, enjoying movement for its own sake and also as a distraction from a conscience that kept prodding uncomfortably at her motivations.
That reasonable voice of conscience sounded disturbingly like Dominic.
She searched for him as she danced, and didn’t have to look far. In his customary sober clothing only partially relieved by the ducal collar he wore for the first time, he leaned against a pillar and watched her dance with William, his expression stony. She could see why he had picked up the nickname the King’s Shadow, for he seemed a darker version of Will—as though William had all the light and pleasure of his power and Dominic all the burden of it. She grew uneasy as he continued to watch them; just how angry was he?
William had seen what she did. “I believe you shall have to dance with someone else after this,” he murmured. “Or Dominic will wonder what has happened to our discretion.”
She didn’t think it was their discretion Dominic was worried about. Although he had often been difficult to decipher, it had only grown worse in the last months. But tonight she had the distinct impression that he was jealous.
This knowledge didn’t give her the same pleasure that Eleanor’s jealousy did. In fact, it brought her back to earth with a thump and made her stomach turn over as she finished the dance and braced herself to speak to Dominic while William was engulfed by a crowd of other women.
I can deal with jealousy,she told herself.All I need do is persuade him to come outside for a bit and be private and remind him whom it is I truly love.But when she approached him, Dominic took her by the arm without waiting for her to speak and escorted her out the nearest door.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded, his dark green eyes furious. “You practically threw yourself at William.”
“It was seeing Eleanor,” she answered, stung by his anger. “I wasn’t warned and it was a shock. You know that Eleanor has always had that effect on me, and it doesn’t have anything to do with loving you. You needn’t be jealous.”
He stopped abruptly and released her arm. The corridor was empty except for a cursory guard, but still he kept his voice at a whisper. “This has nothing to do with jealousy. This has to do with wisdom. Do you think I was the only one to notice the two of you? The way he touched your hand? He was talking to a duke and a bishop at the time! They are neither of them stupid. And Eleanor could not take her eyes off you.”
“We have always danced together. There was nothing new in that.”
