“More important than impressing the Italian ambassador? Your uncle Norfolk was just out here searching for you and looked ready to spit fire.”
“My uncle will have to get over it,” I tell him. “Regardless, I’m here now and I’m sure everything will work out.”
“Oh, will it?” he asks humorlessly.
I shrug. “Probably not, but it’s good to stay positive. So, should we get this show on the road?”
Thomas looks to the still-closed great hall doors, signaling the choreographer with a wave and taking my hand. “Come on, then. You and I will open the dance.” He steers us toward the front of the line and squeezes the two of us in front.
“Why do we have to go in front?” I ask, feeling sudden nerves whooshing through me.
“Because out of all the women, you seem the least in your cups, and we’re also the most pleasing pair for the crowd to look at.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I give his hand a little pat. “Never lose your wonderful sense of modesty, Thomas. It might be your most endearing quality.”
His mouth tilts in a smirk, and the music begins to play in the great hall. It’s the opening notes of the dance, and Thomas quickly looks forward and takes a deep breath. As he does, I see a sense of nervousness pass his typically haughty face.
“Are you getting stage fright?” I ask, surprised.
“I don’t get stage fright” he answers. Then he adds, “My family is in attendance tonight.”
I find myself oddly excited at the prospect. “Really? Who?”
“My father and my older brother, Thomas.”
My head tilts slightly at his words. “You and your brother are both named Thomas?”
This Thomas nods. “If one of us died young, my father wanted to ensure there would still be one Thomas Culpepper.”
That’s morbid but makes sense, I suppose. “Do you get along with your brother?”
Thomas looks down at me, his eyes unexpectedly serious. “My brother is a monster.”
I want to ask him what he means, but before I get the chance, the doors in front of us swing open. Thomas turns to face the waiting crowd and smiles charmingly as he leads me in. The rest of the dancers follow behind us, with Lady Wessex only subtly tripping along the way.
The performance goes... all right.
We might not have been the most graceful group, but we had gusto. Before the next party, I’ll have to convey to my ladies that one of the key principles of pregaming is that your eventually stop.
After I’m introduced to the Italian ambassador, my uncle Norfolk quickly asks me for a private audience. He’s leading me off to the side before I’ve agreed, his grip harsh on my wrist.
We stop along the wall, and he rounds on me to block the view of the room with his body. “This is the entertainment you’ve prepared?” he seethes. “Half your women were floundering about like newborn calves and the others seemed ready to fall over. And you...” He leans in close and sniffs the air between us. “Why do you smell of sour milk?”
I meet the anger in his eyes with some of my own, and I step around him so that I’m no longer hidden from view. “I have no idea,” I tell him. “But speaking of milk, you should knowthat I’m going to be making some changes around here. When I was in a servants’ room tonight, I saw firsthand how unacceptable their living conditions are, as well as the lack of childcare.”
The duke’s cheeks flame in frustration. He looks around, seemingly remembering that we’re in view of the court and flattens his expression. “What were you doing in a servants’ room?”
I casually wave to the Italian ambassador, who merrily waves back. “I was helping a friend,” I answer with a smile.
“Afriend?” My uncle shifts his body again, blocking both our faces from view and dropping his voice. “Let me remind you of something, Catherine. Your only job is to obey the king and give him children. Nothing else. No doing. No speaking. No friends. Nothing. Just be pretty and stay quiet.”
I can feel the rage taking hold inside me. I harness it. I breathe it in. And I look at my uncle with calmly confident eyes.
“Yeah,” I tell him, “that’s not going to work for me.”
We stay locked in an passive aggressive stare fest until the duke turns and faces the inside of the room.
“I’ve noticed you’ve grown quite close to Bessie Stanley. An odd creature, though it seems she has met her match. Does she not look happy, Catherine?”
