I have spent the afternoon carrying dread around in my stomach. I do not trust Eleanor Percy, and Lord Rochford is alarmingly devious, but Lady Rochford is the only person I’ve ever met who truly frightens me. She is a woman of unstable passions and I cannot possibly predict what she might do next. She might as easily announce to the French that William is in love with me (although she cannot have proof) as she could stick a dagger in my back. Is it possible that it wasn’t Eleanor who loosed that adder in my room, but Lady Rochford? I know I should tell Dominic the things she said to me today, but I am tired of always speaking of conflict and danger. And after all, it was only a warning.
For now I must let the worry seep away, because there is a banquet tonight to welcome the French and then there will be dancing…and when William is at his busiest being king, I will ask Dominic to slip away and meet me somewhere private. Not everything I have to tell him is unpleasant.
After an afternoon and evening spent entertaining Charles de Valois, Elizabeth was devoutly glad that she was not his wife. They would never have suited each other, for he was vulgar and outrageous when he thought he was being charming, and yet she was able to make such sly fun of him that he could not quite pin it down. She did her duty and danced with him first, and then with great relief passed him over to Jane Grey. Let Charles try to make headway against Jane’s solid piety.
“Regretting your lost husband?”
At the sound of Robert’s voice, Elizabeth smiled instinctively before remembering that she was still angry with him and all the Dudleys. “Not everyone takes marriage lightly,” she replied, turning. Robert was looking especially handsome tonight. Black and white suited his dramatic dark colouring.
“No, not everyone.” He gave her that look of being able to read every unexpressed thought, then said, “William, at least, seems happy. Perilously so.”
“What could be perilous about happiness?”
Robert lowered his voice once more—not in seduction this time, but in warning. “Happiness can make men careless. People are talking, Your Highness. And not just the gossips and the jealous. The older lords are worried. They, at least, have not forgotten your mother.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Elizabeth remarked, but she could not keep her eyes from straying to where Minuette was the center of a circle of young men. Her laugh was the merriest sound in the entire room.
Robert had followed her gaze. “I quite like your friend, and I would not fault the judgment of any man who fell in love with her. She’ll make a charming diversion. The nobility will grant him that.”
“How very generous of them.” Elizabeth was dismayed, not so much at the gossip, which she had anticipated, but at how accurately the court seemed to be reading William’s intentions. If the lords encouraged her brother to make Minuette his mistress, it was because they feared she might become much more.
Robert leaned closer while keeping his face turned to the crowds, as if they were discussing any matter of slight importance. “The realm is not as stable as your brother would like. The treasury’s in dire straits after the French campaign and several years of drought, and William’s religious moderation has not been popular with either faction. But the Catholics are always and ever the real concern. They are keenly aware that Mary remains under house arrest. If William breaks his French betrothal…”
He did not need to finish that thought. Elizabeth knew perfectly well the only thing keeping the Catholics at bay was the French Catholic princess who was meant to become England’s queen.
Robert had one final word of advice. “You must keep him reined in, Elizabeth. And for heaven’s sake try to talk some sense into him.”
He offered her his hand. She allowed him to lead her out to the dancing, her eyes still on Minuette, laughing and chattering away as if she had not a care in the world.
Robert’s head turned that direction as well. “Dangerous,” he murmured.
Dominic reached the orchard first and braced his back against an apple tree. From there he could see the faint outline of the door in the stone walls of Hampton Court through which Minuette would come. It had been dark for an hour and he wasn’t sure how long he would have to wait. Minuette needed to time her departure so as to be unnoticed, not only by William but by those at court who were beginning to pay attention to her. In the days before the French arrival, William had hardly been away from her side at all; though the king had publicly managed to maintain the illusion of friendship, the whispers were beginning to strengthen. At tonight’s welcoming banquet, Dominic had caught the French ambassador watching William and Minuette together and had itched to strike the smug look of approval from his face. Being French, the ambassador would have no problem with William having such an appealing mistress.
The shadows shifted, black to gray, as the door opened and a cloaked figure slipped through. The concealing cloak did not quite cover the silver glimmer of her gown, and the jewels round her neck and in her hair were like little sparks of moonlight. Or stars, caught fast to the woman who was like a star herself…
Dominic reached for her hand as she neared and pulled her wordlessly forward, deeper into the concealment of an orchard just beginning to bud. Only when the walls and windows of Hampton Court were out of sight did he stop.
She was in his arms at once, and he felt his shoulders relax. This feeling of relief surprised him every time; he never realized how tense he was until they were entirely alone and he could let it go.
“I’ve missed you, my lord duke,” she murmured.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It was a such wonderful thing for William to do.” So Minuette had been saying ever since his investiture.
“William does many wonderful things.” Could she hear the knife-edge of jealousy in his voice?
Whether she could or not, she did precisely the right thing, bringing her mouth up to his in an unhesitating movement. He let his mind empty of everything, aware only of the texture and taste of her lips and, briefly, her tongue. He spent so much of his time not letting himself think about touching her that it took an effort of will to drop that restraint and allow his body to guide him.
Much too soon, she stepped out of the kiss. “William does nothing so wonderful as that,” she said lightly, though Dominic could hear the shiver beneath her words.
They sat at the base of a tree, Dominic’s back against the trunk and Minuette carefully arranging her skirts and cloak before leaning against his side. He put his arm around her, and her head came to rest on his shoulder.
As pleasant as it was to sit in silence and peace, this time would not last and Dominic had things to say. “Elizabeth leaves court the day after tomorrow.”
“She does.”
“I will miss you.” Which was always the truth, no matter the relief of knowing she would be somewhere safer.
