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Authors: Jackie Ivie

Bessie (31 page)

BOOK: Bessie
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James raised his brows. “He probably gave you some trouble.”

“He nearly bit my manservant. That’s why we need you. You’ve got to hide Black-Heart for me.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know anything about horses! You were Devon’s squire. You have a knack with horses. I’ve seen you.”

“You mistook my meaning. I’m saying Black-Heart will be impossible to hide. All Devon has to do is whistle and that steed’s at his side. What power do I have against that?”

“Oh dear! I never thought—! What am I going to do?”

“Now. Now. Here. I’ve got another linen right here, your ladyship.”

Bessie took the cloth Augusta proffered and dabbed at her lashes.

“Where is the horse? I’ll do my best.”

“Wait!” Bessie put up her free hand. “I’ve an idea. I think I had some mares delivered in the growing season. I’m almost certain Sir Geoffrey ordered something like a dozen brood mares. They’ll be in a separate stable, away from the other stallions. If Black-Heart manages to get into that stable, do you think he’d answer Devon’s whistle, then?”

“Hard to say.”  James answered. But he was chuckling.

“Oh, James! You have to keep the horse hidden! Please? I can’t allow Devon to leave me. You’ve got to help me.”

“Of course. Don’t sorry, Bess. I’ll see Black-Heart delivered to his new harem. And I’ll ensure my brother doesn’t leave you, if I have to tether him to a tree. You can count on me.”

“Oh, thank you, James. Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll repay it, but I will. I swear.”

“You already have. You gave me faith and hope...and you were right. I have spoken with the baroness. She knows I will be waiting. Now. Where is that Lymon fellow who brought me?”

James opened the door to shout, but it wasn’t necessary. Lymon was in the hallway. Roberta was just arriving. James joined them in the hall. Bess heard male voices murmuring, and the sound of retreating footsteps. And then Roberta came into her room.

“You see? I told you it would all come right in the end,” Augusta commented.

“Good heavens, Lady Bess! We’d best find you a cloak.”

“You like it, Roberta?”

“Let me call some guards. We can’t let you journey off by yourself looking like that.”

“I’ve been telling her the very same thing, but will she listen to your sister? No.”

“All right, you two. I’ll accept a guard or two. I’d appreciate the escort, I think.”

“Thank goodness. She always did listen to you, Roberta.”

“You call this listening?” 

Roberta reopened the door. Started shouting for Lyman to send guards. The sound echoed. Bessie’s shoulders sagged.

“Oh, why can’t we locate anybody? First Devon, and now we can’t even find a guard!”

“I would say it’s because everyone is at your fest, wearing masks, and hobnobbing with the other guests. But I think the true reason is because we are in the servant wing. Because you were tossed from your own keep.”

“Her Majesty took my chambers, Roberta. What was I supposed to do, share the room with her?”

“The lady of the manor is putting up with a room in the fourth floor of the servant’s wing. It’s unseemly. What’s the world coming to, I ask?”

“It doesn’t matter, Roberta. I am ready. And I won’t need this room again. I am going to be with my husband in his.”

“Oh, yes. Excellent plan. Now. Where are those guards?”  And Roberta stuck her head out the door to holler again.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

 

The ache in her breast was a real thing. Sharp. Heated. Ever-present. Every heartbeat made her more aware of it. She knew the cure. Finding Devon, and begging him for another chance. But her duties interfered. She’d had Sir Geoffrey set up a spectacular presentation for her arrival. She’d wanted everyone to see her. And know the truth. And then she’d approach Devon, perhaps dance with him...and from there her imagination had taken all kinds of channels.

That had been her plan a sennight ago when she’d sent the directive. Back then, all she’d really thought on was good weather. Now, it felt like a ridiculous and wasteful span of time when she could be searching. She only hoped she could get through this without another emotional display. Because following her presentation, she’d asked Sir Geoffrey to set up time for official introductions of her new siblings to Her Majesty and the court.

She’d dreamt of this moment for days. Wanted it to be perfection. But Devon was supposed to be here. Watching.

Perhaps he would be near the queen.

Bessie swallowed. Sent a quick prayer. Hope was such a strange thing. It strengthened and debilitated at the same time. Sent liquid warmth, followed by icy dread. Her fingers and hands were frozen. Her legs and arms trembled. She felt slightly ill. Perhaps she should have partaken of some stew earlier. Or swallowed a bite of bread. Taken a few sips of mead. Anything to quell the nervousness. She’d never felt so small. Ineffectual. The four large guardsmen escorting her didn’t dent the impression.

That amount of men had seemed ostentatious when Roberta had fetched them. Now, she knew the truth. Bessie stood at the top of the Middle Bailey wall and looked over the acreage of Stansbury Hall. The fest appeared to have spilled beyond the inner yards and even the parade grounds. She could see bonfires on the hills surrounding Stansbury. She’d never seen so many people, so many lit torches, or this many brightly colored costumes. Ever. In any venue. She couldn’t remember such a din, either. No wonder nobody could find Devon. She was actually amazed they’d found James.

“You’ll not leave my side?” she asked one of the men.

“Not until you say, Lady Hilde.”

Bessie stepped from beneath a portcullis and out into the light. She had a guard on either side of her and the other two were behind, yet still she felt unprotected and vulnerable. There was a peacock-feather trimmed mask to be held to her face. She put it to her nose and started walking. She was half-way down the steps before she noticed what was happening. Not only was the music, laughter, and chatter stopping, but the sea of humanity below her was transforming into what looked like a waving field of chaff, and all of them were turning to look at her.

By the time she reached the battlement that circled the Middle Bailey, there wasn’t but a whisper of sound. It came from pockets below her. Bess had never been the subject of so many eyes. She’d always had her weeds to hide behind. The hand holding her mask trembled. She could also hear some of the comments.

“Who is she?”

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“Wait! She was at the joust a fortnight past?”

Bessie started down the next series of stone steps. The satin was defining her, but she couldn’t fix that, now. Perhaps the outer overlay disguised some of her form. She held the mask to her eyes with one hand, lifted skirts with the other, and kept her gaze on the steps before her. At the sound of trumpeters, her head came up.

Oh dear
.

This part she hadn’t ordered.

“Your attention! One and all! Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth of the house of Tudor, has the pleasure of presenting her ward. And our hostess. The Lady Elizabeth Hildebrand, Countess of Hilde.”

A path opened up as the Royal Chamberlain announced it. He was standing at the front of a draped platform set before Stansbury Hall’s chapel entrance. Bessie stepped down onto the grass. All about her were snippets of words.

“Surely, that can’t be—?”

“The widow? No.”

“Surely not.”

“That’s what the man just said. You heard?”

“It can’t be, it just can’t!”

Bessie lifted her head higher as she walked. By the time she reached the queen’s feet, she had let the facemask drop. It matched her heart’s movement as she realized Devon wasn’t there. She blinked quickly on grass that blurred before dipping into a low curtsy. The pearl curtain of hair parted with the movement, the ends brushing the field.  

“Allow me to thank you for seeing to the entertainment of my court, Lady Hilde. And may I say, it is a pleasure to see you out of your widow’s weeds, my dear.”

There was a moment of pure silence before the noise started up again. It was different this time, as everyone repeated and reacted to the queen’s announcement. Bessie stood and moved to one side of the platform. Her guards followed her. She was getting a taste of how difficult it was to be the queen. She looked out at the throngs of people facing them.

It wasn’t remotely pleasant.

The queen bent over the arm of her chair. “Thank you, child. All your life, I’ve wanted to claim you like that. It was very pleasant, too.”

“Well. You definitely took the mask off my identity.”

“It was about time.”

“This is a masquerade, Your Highness.”

“In that costume? Please. Come, sit beside me, Elizabeth. You can flirt with your admirers from here. And I could use the entertainment.”

“Ad...mirers?”

Bessie’s voice caught on the word once she was escorted up the ramp to stand beside Her Majesty.

“I see several coming this way as we speak.”

“I don’t want admirers.”

“Ah. I will guess that you haven’t found your errant husband yet. You could still be a free woman. It does have its compensations, you know.”

“But, I love Devon!”

The queen sighed. “Very well. I regret I haven’t seen him since sup, and he was avoiding looking at me, then.”

“He knows about the annulment of the annulment?”

“Of course not. I’m the queen. I can’t change my mind hastily and have it become known. Imagine the chaos. Oh. Who is this lovely child? Introduce her, please.”

Bessie turned back to the crowd.

It was Olivia. She was in a deep curtsy. Black feathers spread gracefully across the grass about her as she did so. She was accompanied by Sir Geoffrey Cobert. Bess frowned, but couldn’t fault his interest. Olivia was beautiful, and in the black swan gown, she was impossible to miss. The gown had been fashioned from satin. Charcoal-colored velvet piping was all about the neck, sleeves, and in tucks all the way down the dress. The seamstress had then attached black feathers in large arches over each shoulder, in an outward span about her waist and all down the back of her skirt.

She appeared to have wings. It was impressive.

“This is Olivia Hildebrand, Your Majesty. One of my sisters-in-law.”

“Lovely, just lovely. I congratulate you on your gown, Miss Olivia. It is impressive.”

“Oh, thank you, Your Majesty. It’s rather heavy, too. I had to weigh the feathers down with pebbles, or I’d take flight.”

The queen laughed. Bessie smiled and nodded. Olivia took Sir Geoffrey’s arm and moved off.

“Devon didn’t tell me of his sister’s beauty. Oh. My. Now, who is this?”

“One of my brothers-in-law, Byron Hildebrand. He is dressed as a centurion. How could I have guessed?”

“We are all dressed this way, Bess,” Bryon replied.

“I believe I could field a new army with as many soldiers about tonight,” the queen announced.”

“Men have such little imagination. So, I have been told.”

“Oh, Bess. It took me days to get this right. Didn’t Devon tell you? I found the description in one of my tomes.”

“This Byron...is a reader?”

“Every available moment, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent. As am I. I look forward to some deep discussion with you, Byron. Who is that beside you?”

“This is Alicia.”

“Another beautiful sister?”

“My husband has a large family, Your Highness. They are all beautiful. Look, there’s Regina as we speak.”  

Byron was looking awe-struck and tongue-tied at the same time. He was also blushing as he turned away. Bessie watched him go and then turned back to the girls.

“Come closer, ladies. Please.”

Regina dipped into a curtsy beside her sister. The contrast between their costumes was especially vivid when placed side-by-side. Alicia was a vision of scarlet hues, while Regina caught the light with every move.

Bessie wasn’t surprised to see Sir Stratton standing in the throng behind Alicia. She was surprised to see that he was also dressed as a Roman soldier, however.

“May I present my sisters, Alicia and Regina Hildebrand, Sire?”

The queen dipped her head to both in turn. Alicia was speechless. Regina wasn’t.

“It’s such a—! I mean, I can’t believe it! I mean...Your Majesty!”

Regina curtsied again. Her fairy wings wavered at the movement. The greenish netting atop her silver skirt was embroidered with so many crystals, the movement made her sparkle.

“Lord Hildebrand failed to tell me of the beauty of his entire family. I look forward to seeing both of you at court some day. Soon. Thank you for coming forward. Oh, Elizabeth, another brother? These aren’t admirers, they’re all Hildebrands.”

“This is Henry.”

“Dressed as another Roman solider. At least, they appear to do the costume justice. That’s more than I can say for the rest of my courtiers so dressed. You may come forward, Henry Hildebrand.”

“Henry is interested in building and architecture, Your Majesty. He’s very talented.”

“And very handsome. No wonder you can’t locate Lord Hildebrand, Elizabeth. He’s well-hidden amongst so many.”

“It’s a bit like finding one red-headed servant wench at Castle Hilde must have been recently,” Henry quipped.

He may have been speaking to the queen, but Bessie knew who he meant the comment for. Especially as he tipped his eyes to her for a moment.

“There are red-head servant wenches at Hilde? You’d best dismiss them, Elizabeth.”

“I have already done so, Your Highness.”

“Look. Another Hildebrand, and nearly the stature of Lord Devon. Your name, young man?”

“It may work, I think. I’ve got him secured, Bess. He’s taking it well, too.”

James violated every bit of protocol by speaking to her, and ignoring the queen at her side. Bessie’s eyes widened.

“You should speak to me, young man.”

James’ eyebrows lifted as he turned to the queen. Bessie had rarely seen such a perfect court bow executed before he raised the old woman’s hands to his lips. She knew the queen noticed it, too.

“Ah. Forgive me, Sire. I am prostrate at my failure. My name is James Hildebrand. I’d not thought the night worth living...until this moment.”

“Oh, my. I believe he’ll do well at Windsor, Elizabeth. You’ve done well.”

“I had nothing to do with it.”

“A man of such innate charm will go a long way. I look forward to sponsoring him. So, tell me, James, what was that you spoke on earlier? With my ward?”

“I have been on an urgent errand for Bess.”

“To secure others? What kind of plotting is this?”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t take up so much of your time, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, sit still, Elizabeth. Allow me a bit of excitement and explain your plot.”

“Well...we may not be able to find my husband as of yet, but we did find his horse. James has him well-hidden.”

“Very bright, Elizabeth. Very. How did you manage such a feat, James?”

“I put him in with the brood mares.”

Queen Elizabeth put her head back and laughed aloud. Everyone in listening distance turned and stared. James looked about and grinned.

“Don’t stay from my court long, young man. It’s been some time since I’ve seen a combination of handsomeness and humor. Is this the entire family, then?”

“Not quite. There is another young sister. Lizzy. She is young, yet. And one more brother, Will. Where is he, James?”

“I haven’t seen him.”

“I look forward to meeting him. I suppose he is also in Roman costume? Well, have him fetched. Send a few of my men.”

Wherever Will was hiding, he wasn’t going to stay long. Bessie wondered what he’d think of being marched to the queen’s side. She would have been terrified. Why was she pondering? She had been. Just this afternoon.

There was a bit of uncomfortable silence, broken with the hint of music. Snippets of whispers. And then Will was escorted to the dais. He looked like he would have liked to bolt, but was hiding it well. He also needed a comb through his hair. He was missing his centurion helmet, his tunic appeared to be on sideways, and there was dirt on both knees and his chin. Bessie did the introduction.

“Your Majesty? Allow me to introduce William Hildebrand. He is usually...a bit more presentable.”

BOOK: Bessie
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