Conspiracy (8 page)

The Queen called me to her as Lady Helena backed out. “Well, my Lady Grace,” she said. “My Lady Pursuivant. What do you think? What were the tumblers saying of the accident?” She knew I would have spoken to Masou. That was why she sent me, after all.

“Well, they found the firework master blind drunk under a bush, and he has been dismissed,” I told her.

She nodded. “So I should hope.” She looked down and frowned and shook her head. “I don't understand it. My dear Robin is so careful usually. He has such an eye for detail—he organizes everything. But so
many
accidents.”

“Three in one day,” I agreed. “It is odd. The saddle, the lion's tail, and now the firework.”

“I am afraid people will gossip. They will say that my Lord Leicester is careless of my safety, or that he is cursed. I would silence the gossip-mongers, Grace. My lord the Earl would never endanger me.”

I smiled and curtsied. “Do you want me to investigate, Ybur Majesty?”

“Yes, my dear Lady Pursuivant. Though no wild adventures, please. It may be that some enemy of the Earl of Leicester's desires to discredit him, and has thus conspired to sabotage the entertainments. Before we have any more tragedies, find out what lies behind these events.”

I went on my knees to her and kissed her hand, though what I really wanted to do was hug her, she sounded so sad and anxious. I am proud that the Queen has trusted me with something so important.

“Of course, it will be hard for you to find things out for me if you must attend me all the time,” the Queen went on. “We shall give out that your ankle, which I see is much better, is a great deal worse. And you must remember to continue to hobble whenever people can see you. Then you will be less busy. Whatever you may find, you shall report solely to me. Now, I'll raise my arms so, and you shall undo my bodice lacings first.”

I had all the lacings of the Queen's kirtle and bodice undone, and the sleeves off, by the time Lady Helena arrived with a creamy brandy posset for Her Majesty.

“Go to bed now, Grace,” she said to me, and so I curtsied and backed out, then hurried up the stairs
to the Maids, our chamber, where I found everyone readying themselves for bed.

Ellie was picking up smocks and holding a napkin for when Penelope Knollys should finish cleaning her face. Olwen was unlacing Lady Jane, and Mary Shelton was helping Carmina out of her gown. And so I sat down on the bed to write this, until all the flurrying should die down.

I always enjoy listening to the daft things the other Maids of Honour say.

Lady Sarah was talking about me when I came in. “I don't know …,” she said, frowning at a particularly spectacular pimple on her chin and not noticing that I had arrived. “You can see what Grace likes in John—he's attentive and he's a wonderful rider—”

“Prince Sven is a wonderful rider, too,” Carmina broke in. “And much taller.”

“The Prince smiled at me when 1 passed him a plate of Maids-of-Honour, and he didn't even know that they are little cheese tarts. So I told him,” Penelope remarked.

“I like that tall nobleman that is his lieutenant, the one with blue eyes and the green doublet,” said Carmina dreamily.

“I like his secretary,” Penelope responded. “The tall one who always looks so mysterious.”

“You mean grim and disapproving,” sniffed Lady Sarah. “I'd say his lips are too thin, and you know what that means. Thin lips speak an ungenerous heart—all the face-reading books say so.”

Then the conversation turned to the Queen—and I soon realized she had been right about the gossip.

“Of course, the Queen could marry Prince Sven,” Lady Jane said to Lady Sarah. “Even Parliament wouldn't mind, since he's a proper Protestant, even if he is only a Lutheran. Everyone would approve— and then she could have a son of her body.”

We aren't really supposed to talk about the Queen's private life, but of course everybody does. All the time. Penelope and Carmina giggled—well, it is difficult to think of a lady as old as the Queen having a baby.

“The Earl of Leicester would be devastated,” Lady Sarah said in a tragic tone of voice. “The Queen is his first and only love.”

“Apart from his wife, whom he probably murdered,” Lady Jane said nastily. Everybody else shushed her and looked round nervously. “If he could do that, he could do anything. I believe he's behind all these so-called accidents,” she added.

“Then you know nothing of the matter.” Lady Sarah sniffed. “The Earl of Leicester loves the Queen ardently and would never do anything to hurt her.”

“Of course he wouldn't.” I agreed with Lady Sarah, which doesn't often happen. It gave Sarah something of a shock, because until then she had not even realized I was in the room!

“But it's very odd that there have been three accidents in one day,” said Carmina thoughtfully. “First, Her Majesty's saddle falls off at the hunt—”

“How did you know?” I asked.

She tossed her head. “Everybody knows,” she said. “They all saw the Queen riding to the dinner
en plein air
astride Prince Sven's horse—the place has been abuzz with it. And the groom in charge of the Queen's saddle has lost his place, too. Then there was that statue that broke in the maze—and you know, statues do not usually break, do they?”

The other girls were hanging on her words.

“And now a firework nearly takes the Queen's head off!” Carmina shook her head. “You mark my words, I think this is a curse!”

“Whose curse?” breathed Sarah, very interested.

“Well,” whispered Carmina, “it's probably somebody in the Robsart family wanting vengeance for
poor Amy. What about that cousin who won't stop trying to get the Earl arrested for it? Maybe he paid a witch to put a curse of ill-luck—”

“Nonsense!” interrupted Penelope Knollys unexpectedly. “It's the Scots. There are probably Scottish spies skulking around here and trying to kill the Queen for capturing
their
Queen.”

“The Queen thinks it's just … accidents,” Mary Shelton said uncertainly, and everyone shouted her down.

Ellie has just brought me a fresh smock, and winked and rolled her eyes at the nonsense they're talking. And I am not going to listen to any more silly gossiping. Time for bed.

As I am acting as Her Majesty's Lady Pursuivant, I must make a record of my findings, I think. So, no matter what Mrs. Champernowne says, I have decided to carry my daybooke and penner in my embroidery bag wherever I go. And here I am, sitting upon a stone bench hidden in the maze, and this is my record of my investigation—although I am very tired, thanks to Mary Shelton and her snoring. She kicked me twice when once I did doze off, saying I was talking again—which I am sure I was not.

This morning Her Majesty had on a wondrous satin gown all painted with creatures—birds and butterflies mostly. Carmina clapped her hands at how lovely it was, which pleased the Queen. After we had all filed into her chamber, she smiled and told us to gather round.

“Now, I have a splendid jest for to play upon my Lord Earl and His Highness the Prince, and indeed upon all the gentlemen,” Her Majesty began. “They fawn upon me, but how well do they know me?”

She paced about a little. “The day after tomorrow, our last day here, there is to be a masked ball, and at it I shall be the Queen of the May. You shall all be dryads and naiads and I wish you to study with the Dancing Master for to make a pretty dance of it—the tailors of the Removing Wardrobe of Robes will help with your costumes.

“Now,” she went on, with a significant look at me, “as my Lady Grace has hurt her ankle, she shall make a speech in rhyme instead of dancing with the rest of you.”

Lady Sarah and Carmina sighed with relief, which I think is unfair—I'm not
that
bad at dancing.

“However”—the Queen stopped for effect and her eyes sparkled—“I shall be incognito at the ball-Lady Sarah shall play the part of me as the Queen of the May …”

Lady Sarah clapped her hands to her mouth and went bright red—for it's a great honour to play the Queen. She dropped a curtsy.

“… and I shall be but one of your company,” the
Queen went on. “We shall see if any of the silly men that profess so much love for me will notice the change at all.”

We all clapped our hands at this and laughed, and then everyone was talking at once.

The Queen held up her hand for silence and caught my eye. I'm sure she thought up the masque to stop the Maids gossiping—as well as every attendant, henchman, and servant in the place.

“I shall be joining some classes with the Dancing Master, so shall find out also if what he says is true, that you are
les vaches
, that you thunder like tournament chargers and that you insist on talking constantly throughout.”

There was an embarrassed titter from everybody, except Lady Sarah, who was looking very worried.

“What is it, my dear?” the Queen asked her.

“Oh, Your Majesty,” gasped Lady Sarah, “I don't know if I can … if I can be as
regal
as you.”

The Queen smiled at this for, quite by accident, Lady Sarah had said the exact right thing. She may have more chest than the Queen, but when the Queen walks into a room, everyone else in it becomes instantly uninteresting and unimportant.

“I can give you lessons on how to be queenly,”
Lady Jane said, looking very superior. And then she caught the Queen's glare and faltered. “Unless Her Majesty can spare the time …”

“I shall give Lady Sarah instruction,” the Queen said firmly.

I quietly slipped out while they were all babbling and arguing over whose complexions would be best as dryads—tree spirits, who wear green and brown— and whose would be prettiest as naiads—water spirits, wearing blue. The Queen saw me go and nodded.

Nosy Mrs. Champernowne said, “Ah, Lady Grace, where do you think—?”

“It is well,” the Queen broke in. “There will be dancing practice shortly and Lady Grace is excused. She is to walk about as much as she can to help her ankle.”

Mrs. Champernowne sniffed and looked suspicious, but she couldn't do anything. Ha ha!

I found Ellie in the kitchen garden with a huge basket of washing, hanging shirts and smocks on hedges to dry in the sun. She didn't pause when she saw me but kept on wringing out sleeves and spreading the clothes on the hedges. She looked cross and I wasn't sure why. “Ellie?” I said. “Did you hear what happened yesterday?”

“Masou's too busy to talk to me, being as he's Puck,” she said, squeezing a falling-band collar viciously. “Is it true what I heard, that my lord the Earl fired a cannon at the Queen for her dallying with the Swedish Prince, and missed her, but hit Gypsy Pete?”

“Not quite,”! said. “It was really a firework and it went the wrong way by accident.”

“What's your young man John think of it, then?” she asked, throttling another shirt.

“I don't know, I haven't seen him today,” I said, and then gaped.
“My young man?
What are you talking about? He's just been helping me because my ankle was sore.”

“Well, I saw you going calf-eyed over him,” said Ellie with a wink.

“You couldn't have!” I told her.

But she just shook her head and looked disbelieving, as she wrung out some hose. “I hate that Mrs. Fadget,” she said. “She says I did the ruffs the wrong colour, so I had no dinner yesterday because I was redipping them.”

Since Ellie never has enough to eat at the best of times, this was serious. I looked around to see if anyone was watching and then I carefully helped her put the rest of the laundry out. Getting her some
food was quite urgent, so we went round to the kitchens, but everyone was too busy cooking for the entertainment tonight.

Some of the Earl's men were working on the Banqueting House in the garden—it's the second-best one, brought from storage at Court. The canvas was once all painted with saints, but they got painted out and replaced with classical goddesses and gods—which are a bit blurry. The men were decorating it with fresh leafy boughs so it would look more like a bower.

Ellie and I went and looked at it. “Some of the food for this afternoon might be in there already,” I said. “Come on, let's have a look.”

The entrance was shut and there was a lad standing guard. As we watched, John came out looking very busy and serious, and then another person went in carrying a tray of fruit jellies gleaming with sugar. There were wormwood leaves hanging by the door to keep the flies away.

All the leaves and branches gave me an idea. If we gathered some plants and flowers, we could pretend we had come to help with the decorations, and then the lad at the entrance might let us in. So we went into a corner of the orchard and picked some ferns.
Then, with Ellie carrying them behind me, I marched up to the boy outside the Banqueting House and said, “My lord asked me to help arrange tables for the banquet.”

He bowed and opened the flap for us. So in we went, with Ellie half-hidden under all the leaves.