As the Sparks Fly Upward (25 page)

Twyla was excited about the trip to celebrate Adam's wedding. She noticed, though, as the time grew near that Colin grew more unhappy. She knew better than to ask him what was wrong.

The days went by, and finally on May 21, Twyla stood in the church at the wedding, watching as Adam and Heather were united in marriage. She was standing just across from Colin. Glancing at him, she saw that his face was set in an angry look. Twyla then knew with certainty:
He's still in love with her.
The thought pierced her. Sympathy came for the young man who had picked her out of nothing and protected her. Anger came to her, then, as she stared at Heather. There was a lightness about the woman she had perceived on their first meeting. She was beautiful and witty, and she pleased Adam.
Colin doesn't need a
woman like that!
She resolutely turned her gaze away and didn't look at Colin until the service was over.

It was a time of celebration, but Colin was having none of that. She joined him at a table laden with food, but he took nothing.

“Have some of this wine, Mister.” She held up a cup. “They'll be very happy.”

“I'm sure they will!” The words were filled with bitterness. He turned abruptly and walked out of the room.

Twyla watched him go and felt sadness for him, but anger at Adam and Heather.
They don't even know how this is affecting him! They don't even care!
Something heavy was added to her heart that day.
Colin will never look at another woman. That woman has spoiled all the gentleness and goodness he had to give to a woman!

17

August 1, 1586

D
r. Teague entered the room abruptly. Shutting the door behind him, he moved over to where Twyla was mixing something on the table. Plopping himself down in a chair, he studied the ingredients, then demanded, “What are you making?”

“Buttered loaves.”

“Good! Be sure you make enough. That Colin is a hog; he barely leaves enough for me.”

Twyla laughed. “You're a glutton, Doctor, and so is he. Now you be quiet while I work.”

Teague watched as the young woman mixed mutton fat, currants, spice powder, and salt and then kneaded it into a special bread dough rich with eggs and sugar. Picking it up, she cut the loaf into three pieces, fried more butter, and shoved sugar between every piece. She placed it on grill called a spider over the coals, and at once a wonderful smell permeated the air. Teague asked, “How long will it be?”

“You're not getting any of these until after supper tonight.”

“Don't torment an old man, girl! I've worked hard today. I'm starving.”

“No matter, you'll have to wait.”

“Oh, you could spare one of those buttered loaves. You have plenty.”

Twyla shook her head. “We are going to have a good supper, and I don't want you to spoil your appetite.” She glanced down at Teague's hands, which were filthy. “You're not going to get any buttered loaves until you wash those hands.”

“I washed them yesterday.”

“Dr. Teague, you've been cutting up a dead body, and now you're going to pick up buttered loaves? That will probably poison you. Now go wash.” Twyla pointed toward the porch.

“All right, but it's a waste of time.” Teague limped off into the room. He stopped to look outside. It was August now and very hot. The heat from the fire had caused perspiration to accumulate on his forehead and drip down his face. He was already sweating from cutting up the corpse, but the fire seemed to intensify the heat.
I hope that bossy girl won't make me change my clothes, too!
He left, went out on the back porch, washed his hands, then returned to the large room. Sitting down, he asked, “How old are you, girl?”

“I don't really know.”

“Of course you know. Come on, tell me.”

“I'm either fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen.”

“Did they tell you how old you were when you were small?”

“No one told me because no one cared.” The harsh statement seemed to linger in the air. Then Twyla turned and said in a troubled tone, “I'm worried about Colin.”

“Why are you worried?”

“Come, now, Dr. Teague, you've watched him. He hasn't been the same since Adam got married.”

“Men don't get over women like they get over coughs.”

“You think he will be that way all of his life? He's so unhappy!”

Teague said with a sly smile coming across his lips, “Give me a piece of that buttered bread and I'll tell you.”

Twyla studied the old man and then broke a generous portion of the dough. She dipped it in a small pile of sugar and spice, then handed it to him. She watched as he took a bite hungrily. He chewed with pleasure, then swallowed and said, “That is very good! But about Colin, it's not just that woman who's got him down, even though she broke his heart. It's that book he's been working on, too.”

“I thought he was through with it.”

“He is as far as the text is concerned, but it has to have something more than words.”

“Like what?”

“Like illustrations, pictures. For example, you can't just describe a heart; you have to
show
it. There are different valves, the shape of it, all the connections between the vessels.”

Twyla listened for a time and the old man rambled on. Finally, when he got up to leave, she said, “We'll have supper early tonight.” As soon as he was gone, she stood resolutely and thought,
I know what I can give him for his birthday. And that Heather Benton can't give him anything like this!

“This supper was the best I've ever had!” Teague beamed and patted his stomach, which seemed swelled to the bursting point. “I am going to go to bed and try to do some digesting.”

“Thank you, Dr. Teague.”

Colin looked up and watched Teague leave. He tried to smile, for he knew that Twyla had put a good deal of work into his birthday supper. “This was a fine meal, Twyla. You're a wonderful cook.”

“You didn't eat very much.”

“I'll eat some more later.”

A silence fell across the room. Suddenly, Twyla said uncertainly, “I got you a present, Mister.”

“Why, you shouldn't have done that, Twyla!”

“I wanted to. I didn't have any money, but I got something
you would like.” She turned and left the room, and came back almost immediately. She was carrying a stack of papers nearly an inch thick. “At least, I hope you'll like it,” she said as she watched his face.

“Let me see.”

Colin reached out and took the bundle of papers. He saw that they were all drawings. For a moment he stared at them in disbelief. “Where in the name of heaven did you get these, Twyla?” he demanded.

“They're mine. I drew them.”

“You drew these?” Colin stared at the girl, then shook his head in awe. He began thumbing through the papers. “You have this artery just how it should be—even the nerve that goes to the eye. Look at it, Twyla, you've got it just right!”

He went through the stack, crying out with each fresh discovery. Finally, he looked up and exclaimed in wonder, “Twyla, you never told me you could draw like this!”

“I never told anybody.'”

“This is wonderful! You have a gift. Don't you see what this means?”

“Not really. What does it mean, Mister?”

Colin laughed and stepped toward Twyla. He put his arm around her and hugged her tightly to his chest. “Why, this means I can finish the book! You can do all the drawings. They're better than any I've ever seen.”

“Please, Mister, you mustn't hug me.”

“Why, of course I must! After all, you have just given me the best birthday present I've ever had. Come now, how did you do it? Sit down and tell me.”

The two sat down again and Twyla said, “I went into where the bodies are when you and Dr. Teague weren't there. I just drew what I saw. I don't know what any of it means, of course.”

“You don't have to know what the things mean. They're true
to life.” Colin continued thumbing through the drawings. The sound of rustling paper filled the room. He kept pointing out things to her, his eyes bright with excitement. He suddenly took her hand in both of his. “Twyla, because of you I can finally get my book published. It will make us famous.”

“Not me, sir, just you.”

“Don't be modest now. We're going to be working together very closely. You can draw the things I lay out for you so we can have a complete book.”

Twyla's eyes sparkled. “Yes, Mister,” she whispered. “I can do that.”

Colin opened the door and stood there, confused for a moment. “Why, Sir Francis! Come in!”

Francis Walsingham stepped inside the door. As usual, he was dressed in rather plain dark clothing. He didn't care much for frivolous clothing such as the other nobility wore. Colin had often thought that he looked like a huge, dark, ominous bird of prey with his dark hair, dark eyes, and dark clothing. “Why didn't you send for me? I would've come at once.”

“I didn't have time, Dr. Winslow.”

“Please come in and sit down. Let me give you something to drink and eat. Something to wash the dust out. It's hot out there today.”

Colin found a pitcher of ale, poured it into a pewter flagon, then handed it to Sir Francis. He drank it quickly, and Colin filled it up again.

“Something has come up, Doctor, that I need some help with.”

“What can I do for you?”

The head of the secret service of England was not a man to share secrets. There was always a mysterious air about him. Sir Francis glanced around the room, assuring himself it was empty. He leaned forward and whispered, “Mary, Queen of
Scots, has a servant named Renee Billaud. She is an older woman, and Mary is very fond of her. Elizabeth just received a letter asking our queen to send a physician to attend to her servant. Mary suggested that she would prefer you.”

“Of course I'll be happy to do what I can. Do you know what the woman's trouble is?”

“No. I know only that she is not doing well at all. She might not live, so I think time is of the essence.”

“I will go at once, sir.”

“Just a minute. Don't be in such a rush.” A slight smile turned up the corners of Walsingham's lips and he said, “It's not only a matter of treating the woman. You are aware that Mary is a thorn in Her Majesty's side?”

“Yes, Sir Francis, I'm aware of that.”

“I've been trying for ten years now to get the evidence that there are plots to assassinate Queen Elizabeth and put Mary on the throne. I know she's guilty,” he said grimly. “But the queen will not listen. She demands something solid.”

“You asked my father to do this. You even asked me once, but it doesn't seem to do any good.”

“You may find something this time. She's grown careless. You'll be with the old woman constantly. Mary's servants will be there, and visitors will be coming and going. You are a sharp fellow, Dr. Winslow. You have a mind such as I've never seen. You go do what you doctors do, then do what my men do. Find some evidence that that woman is out to gain the throne of England and Elizabeth stands in her way.”

Colin didn't hesitate. “Yes, sir. I'll do my best.”

“Good man! Now let me tell you how to contact me if you find something . . .” Colin took in all that Walsingham said. It was not a task that he had sought or liked. Indeed, he had always liked Mary despite the rumors. But Walsingham had put the task in terms he couldn't deny, for Elizabeth must live.

Colin made a fast trip. He pulled his horse in front of Chatley, a house in the same county as Tutbury Castle. Chatley belonged to the Earl of Essex, and Walsingham had thought it wise to move Mary from Tutbury to Chatley. Colin's mind was moving quickly as he considered how to carry out Walsingham's instructions. He was greeted at the door by a pair of armed guards and announced, “My name is Dr. Colin Winslow. I'm the physician Her Majesty has sent for.”