Page 136

“Please milady, are you the Countess of Vawdrey?”

“I am,” said Fen, in surprise. And not just at possessing such a grand title. “Did Lady Martindale send you?”

He looked around furtively. “Yes,” he whispered, and to her immense surprise, winked at her.

Bors barged past her to take a look at the newcomer, and the boy backed off nervously.

“You’re quite safe,” Fen assured him. “He’s very friendly.” He patted Bors’ head as Fen reached into her alms purse to fetch him a coin for his troubles. “I take it Mathilde is not coming to meet me,” she said, as she handed it over.

He pressed his lips firmly together and nodded his head, slipping the coin into his tunic. “Though, begging your pardon, she’d rather you didn’t say a word until she writes to you that she’s safely reached her destination.”

Even more bewildered, Fen watched the boy leave and sat down on a cold window seat to open the folded note.

My dearest friend, Mathilde had written in her angelic round handwriting. Though we have been friends for only a relatively short period of time, our acquaintanceship is one I will always treasure, come what may. You were a refreshing breath of air, and I a stagnating pond, dank and stale. Never has my own inertia been more apparent to me than when contrasted with you, bright and fearless Fenella. You have opened mine eyes and dazzled me with the possibilities of a life fully-lived. With your example before me, I mean to seize hold, and run with my own lot in the world. I hope you will not be ashamed of me, when my flight comes to light. I hope that in your heart, you will still call me friend. With the greatest love and affection. Mathilde.

Fen read the letter through thrice, in stupefaction. Then she burst into tears. Bors jumped up, his two front paws on the bench to check on her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sat a moment, her heart thudding. Her friend had gone, she knew not where, and she dared not raise the alarm for fear of compromising her. What had the page said? Mathilde did not want her to speak a word until she had reached whence she was fleeing? Then she would not. Wild horses could not drag it from her. She only wished that her involvement would not drag Oswald into further scandal, for Lady Doverdale was a powerful woman at court. She was sure to be furious that her daughter had escaped the sphere of her influence. With a feeling of impending doom, Fen crept her way back through the palace, avoiding the more popular walk-ways and keeping to the shadows. Her mind was racing as she picked over her last meeting with Mathilde three days ago. Had there been clues then, that something of this nature might happen? She remembered Mathilde’s strange manner, the way she had been so determined to lay out every last detail for their tapestry panel with full instruction. Now she realized why. Because Mathilde had known she would not be around to complete it with Fenella. Then there had been the way she had said ‘Do not forget’ when they had parted. Fen covered her mouth with her hand. Do not forget me, she had meant. Then there had been that distracted air that Mathilde had worn the whole morning. Because she had been planning on flight. But how on earth had she managed to do it? wondered Fen. She knew of no full-grown lady that was watched as closely as Mathilde. Indeed, her Nurse dogged her every move as if she was still a child. It beggared belief that she could have fled and avoided detection. When Fen reached the Vawdrey quarters, she was not surprised to find a servant and a guard awaiting her. Her heart dropped to her ankle boots.

Linnet was stood conversing with them and turned to look at her with a pale, concerned face. “Fenella, something terrible has happened.”

Fen swallowed. “What?” she asked as Bors padded past her and flopped down in front of the fireplace.

“I’m afraid that Lady Martindale has disappeared. The Queen has sent for you. If you will only wait for me to dress, then I will accompany you of course…”

“There is no need,” she told her sister-in-law hurriedly. “I have no information, so I won’t be overlong. Pray do not concern yourself on my behalf. I am most happy to accompany these gentlemen to see the Queen.”

Linnet looked for a moment as though she would argue, but then seemed to reconsider. “Perhaps, if you have no knowledge…” she said uncertainly.

“I won’t be long,” Fen assured her, and looked to the attendants.

“This way my lady,” said the servant and she followed him along the corridor. To her surprise, they did not lead her toward the Solar, but instead to the Queen’s private apartments. Of course, she recalled dimly. The King was away, and the Queen would no doubt take the opportunity to do things her own way.

The Queen’s suite of rooms was much more welcoming than the King’s, thought Fenella remembering the rather oppressively grand rooms the King occupied. These were much lighter, with green curtains, decorative tapestry hangings and a merry fire burning in the opulent stone fireplace. The Queen clearly liked pretty things and surrounded herself with them. Fen was ushered into a sitting area and seeing Lady Doverdale glowering by the window, steeled herself for an ordeal. To her surprise, she saw the other lady in attendance was Lady Jane Cecil who was sat on a low stool by the fire, ostensibly reading from a book of sermons.

“Ah, Fenella,” the Queen said by way of greeting. “Come and take a seat here with me. We find ourselves in something of a predicament this morning. You have no doubt heard?” She gestured to a seat opposite her and Fen sat in it, glancing to the right where Lady Doverdale stood, an ominous dark cloud over her brow.

“When I returned to my rooms just now, Linnet told me that Mathilde is temporarily missing.” She squared her shoulders. “Tell me, has she been found?” It would not be from her that they would discover that her friend had fled the palace.

The Queen’s eyes glinted with something that could have been amusement. “Nay, she has not,” she said solemnly.

“Do you mean to imply that you know nothing of my child’s disappearance?” demanded Lady Doverdale. “I might add, that I find that very hard to believe.” She took two impulsive steps toward Fen. “You are the only new influence that has made itself known within her small circle of acquaintance. I had hoped it would improve her,” she said bitterly. “But now I discover the folly of such thoughts. You madam, are becoming infamous among these corridors, your name synonymous with every-”

“That is enough, I think, my dear Berengaria,” the Queen interrupted her gently but firmly.

Lady Doverdale took two deep heaving breaths and returned to the window. The hand that covered her mouth trembled.

It was curious, thought Fen. Two days ago, she would have been a stammering mess at such accusations. Lady Doverdale’s harsh words would have reduced her to a gibbering wreck. But such were the nature of the events in her life lately, that this simply paled in comparison. She eyed Lady Doverdale impassively and then turned back to the Queen. “I can only repeat that I know nothing of Lady Martindale’s disappearance,” she said coolly, and marveled at her own self-possession. Truth to tell, she felt numb to her very soul. Her calm had been pricked by very real fears for her friend’s well-being, but otherwise, Lady Doverdale’s suffering left her untouched. She did not believe it originated from an impulse to protect, but rather to assert ruthless control over her daughter. Fen folded her hands in her lap and waited.

“I see,” said the Queen pleasantly. “And might I ask, when did you last see the Lady Martindale?”

Fen cast her mind back. “Some three days ago,” she said. “Mathilde sat with me while I had a portrait sitting. We arranged to meet again this morn. But when I turned up at the allotted meeting place...”

The Queen spread her hands. “Alas, no Mathilde,” she finished for her. Fenella nodded. “But you did expect to see her there, no?”

“Oh yes,” said Fenella. “We were to start on our tapestry this morning.”

“And she sent no word?” asked the Queen.

Fen hesitated, but only for a second. “No, none,” she said brazenly. If she admitted to that, they would no doubt ask to see the note.