Lady Gallant (9 page)

"Take me back."

"But we've arrived." He nodded toward a timber and plaster structure at her back.

Nora turned and stood in silence. She took a step, hesitated, then glided to the windows to study the treasures set out in them. Christian followed, a gratified smile playing about his lips. He inclined his head at two apprentices standing guard at the shop door, and they smirked at him knowingly.

The shop of Hugo Unthank was unique, for Hugo was a collector of rarities. Having spent his youth traveling in Europe and the Middle East, he had settled in London during old King Harry's days to purvey foreign goods. No one knew how he obtained the fabulous and exotic pieces that graced his shop, for Unthank discouraged questions. Joining Nora at the window, Christian glanced at a gold cross set with rubies, then at her.

She wasn't looking at the window display. He followed her line of sight and found the object of her perusal. In a gilded cage suspended from a stand sat a parrot—a giant green and crimson parrot. Scowling, Christian muttered a curse. She was supposed to be looking at the jewels, the watches made to be suspended from a lady's girdle, the illuminated book of hours, the ivory and lace fans. While he was scowling, Nora brushed past him and slipped into the shop. When he caught up with her she was stroking with one finger a tail feather that stuck out between the bars of the cage.

"Unthank!"

Nora jumped at Christian's shout. So did the apprentice who was walking toward them.

"Anon, my lord. No need to bellow." Hugo Unthank emerged from behind an arras at the back of the shop. "Indeed, indeed." He paused to brush a speck of dust from his velvet coat, adjusted his cap with the gold feather, then approached to give his bow.

"There are laws about commoners wearing velvets and the like, Unthank," Christian said.

The merchant smiled and flicked the feather in his cap. "Indeed, my lord, indeed. How may I serve you?"

Christian remembered his purpose. While Nora was making friends with the parrot, he took Unthank aside. "I've come for the cup my lord father ordered. But also find something to beguile the lady. Do it quickly, sirrah, and none of your cheap trinkets. I want wonders, marvels, anything to get her attention off that cursed bird."

The parrot squawked, making Christian wince, and Nora laughed and clapped her hands. Unthank disappeared behind the arras again and returned some minutes later trailed by three assistants bearing coffers. These were set on a table covered with damask. Christian walked over to the gilded cage.

"Nora." His quest was whispering endearments to the parrot. Christian raised his voice. "Nora, aren't you interested in the Queen's cup?"

Nora ceased her blandishments, but her gaze never left the bird. "Of course, my lord."

Christian sighed, snatched her hand, and led her to a chair set before the display table. Gesturing for Unthank to begin, he watched Nora. Unthank set a tall cabinet of ebony before her, took a key from his purse, and unlocked the door. Inside, nestled in velvet, rested a covered pedestal cup wrought in silver gilt and translucent violet enamel. Scenes of the Queen's coronation decorated the bowl, and the lid was crowned with a cluster of Spanish pomegranates and Tudor roses.

"Think you the Queen will like it?" Christian asked.

"Oh, yes."

He bent down to look directly into Nora's eyes. "Is that all you have to say after my poor sire spent a fat merchant's fortune on the thing?"

"It's very nice."

"God's teeth!" Christian threw up his hands and turned to Unthank. "Did you hear the lady? Nice. There. Look you, Nora, you've insulted Unthank. His feather's all aquiver and he's got the countenance of a grieving widow. Show her something else, man."

The cabinet was put aside, and a cherrywood coffer took its place. With the air of a wizard about to reveal the secrets of magic, Unthank tipped back the lid of the coffer, exposing a pile of jewels that would have made Princess Elizabeth's eyes gleam with acquisitiveness. Unthank's nimble fingers descended into the mass of glitter to pluck out a pendant. It was a phoenix cast in gold, encircled by rubies.

Nora nodded politely, but to Christian's disgust her head swiveled in the direction of the cage and its noisy occupant. Unthank cleared his throat, and she turned back to murmur her approval of a gold and enamel ring with an onyx cameo of the Queen.

Christian whirled away from Nora to yank on Unthank's cloak. "Do something, you befeathered grub. I want to know what she likes."

The merchant scurried into the recesses of his shop again and returned with another box, a small one this time.

"She won't be able to resist this, my lord," he whispered to Christian. "None of the ladies of the court has anything so fine."

Christian grabbed the box and dropped to one knee beside Nora. She was gazing at the parrot once more, but remembered herself enough to turn her attention back to him when he approached.

"Look, sweeting, a surprise."

He removed the lid of the box to reveal a small egg-shaped case made entirely of intricately engraved gold. He opened it. Inside the egg rested a watch so small, it would fit in Nora's palm. All of crystal and gold, it was made to be worn on a chain about the neck. Christian spilled the watch into his hand and raised his eyes to Nora's.

All he saw was the swirl of her skirts as she dashed to the shop window. A group of roughly clad men rushed past in the street outside. One of them held a bag, and something inside it wiggled and cried.

Nora was out the door and gone before Christian could stand. He threw the case and watch at Unthank, shouted for his men to remain behind, and took off after her. Insulted, his pride bruised if not cut, he vowed to catch this black-haired sprite and show her where her attention should be pinned. All thought of chiding her vanished, however, when he saw her hurtle after the three men into an alley. Clamping his hand on his sword, he dashed into the alley after her.

He was seconds behind her, but he was too late. As he ran toward her, he saw Nora reach out and poke the tallest, burliest man on the shoulder. The man turned around, and Christian recognized Pigsey Watt, a horse thief known to every ruffler, whipjack, and cutpurse in London for his unerring nose for swaybacked and diseased horseflesh. Poor Pigsey was a dullard, and his awareness of his shortcomings had made him mean. Christian groaned when he heard Nora. She would choose this moment to abandon mousehood.

"You've got kittens in that sack," she said to Pigsey. "They're frightened. Let them out."

Pigsey gaped at her. His two friends dug elbows into each other's ribs and sniggered.

"Them's my animals, mistress," Pigsey said. "We're going to use them in football, we are."

"You are not." Nora pulled herself up to her full height and pointed a finger at Pigsey. "Give those kittens to me, sirrah."

"Them's mine."

Pigsey was nothing if not consistent. Thus far, his presence had gone unnoticed by the three men. He was still a few yards from the group, and in the shadows of the buildings on one side of the alley.

"I'm not going to let you hurt them," Nora said. "Give them to me."

"Won't."

"You will."

Pigsey's face took on what Christian assumed was his clever look, which meant he appeared to be suffering from gas pains. Apparently Pigsey decided to solve the problem of this interfering lady by attempting to barrel past her. As his bulk loomed near, Nora shrank back. But Pigsey overreached himself. He boxed the sack he was holding.

A kitten yelped, and Nora sprang. Shoving her foot in front of Pigsey, she hooked this thick calf and pulled. Pigsey barked in surprise and tumbled to the ground. His two friends knew better than to loiter while Pigsey wrestled with a gentlewoman. They ran past Christian as he headed for Nora. He was drawing his sword, but Pigsey had caught Nora's ankle. He clawed at her skirt with his other hand. Christian knew the strength of those hands. If Pigsey got hold of her neck, he could kill Nora.

His sword cleared its scabbard as he closed the distance between himself and Nora. He shouted at Pigsey, all the while cursing himself for waiting too long. Pigsey's hand reached for Nora's neck, and she kicked him. Instantly, the man bucked and shrieked. Christian skidded to a standstill in front of the horse thief in time to see Nora withdraw her foot from the man's groin. Shivering at the sight of Pigsey doubled over on the ground and moaning, Christian sheathed his sword and took Nora's arm.

"By God, woman, you're as lackwitted as a guinea fowl. Pigsey could have killed you."

She pulled her arm free and leapt for the sack that Pigsey had dropped. Christian stalked over to her.

"I'm speaking to you, lady. I said you could have gotten yourself killed."

"Give me your dagger."

Christian ground his teeth together. "The saints preserve my temperance." Nora held out her hand without speaking. He growled and handed her the weapon.

While Nora was freeing the kittens, Christian fussed. "I don't understand it. I truly don't. You can't defend yourself from silly maids at court. You wilt like a babe in need of physick at the least harsh word, and tremble at the attack of thieves, and yet you furbish up your courage in an instant to attack three knaves over a sack of kittens."

She freed the last kitten and set it on the ground. "And you'd let them torture the poor creatures, I trow."

Christian felt his mouth drop open. "I would not!"

"You didn't even notice them." She picked up a kitten and thrust it at him, forcing him to grab it. "You were too busy looking at—at trinkets."

Christian cursed. The kitten sank its tiny claws into the back of his hand, and he cursed again. Nora picked up the remaining kittens and marched back to the shop of Hugo Unthank. Christian stayed in the alley, peeling the kitten from his flesh. By the time he reached the shop, he was in a fine temper. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, and when he saw Nora handing the kittens to Unthank with a smile of gratitude, the urge to swat the girl on the rump was almost unbearable.

"Master Unthank is going to find the kittens a home," Nora said to him.

"So," Christian said as he handed over his charge to an apprentice. "So."

Nora glanced at him. "So, my lord?"

"So, you fawn over a common merchant, all fat and foggy with praise because he takes in your pets. If I hadn't been at the bear baiting, you'd have puked on the stairs."

"What has the one to do with the other?" she asked.

Christian squeezed his eyes shut and recited the Greek alphabet. When he opened them, Nora was studying him in confusion.

"Don't look at me like that," he said. "It's your fault for behaving like a mouse and then attacking like the god Mars. Don't you know what it does to a man to see a woman burst into fire and passion like that?"

"I was furious," she said in protest. "When we first met, you chastised me for lacking courage."

He groaned and rubbed his forehead. "God's teeth, she's furious. Don't you understand that you should defend yourself as well as you did those kittens?"

"It's not the same."

"You're right, my sweeting. You're more important than the kittens."

She lifted her skirts and stepped into the street. "Oh, no,
I'm not. Animals are creatures of God, too, and someone has to care for them."

"You need to take care of yourself first, Nora Becket." She shook her head and laughed. Seeing her eyes brighten, for once at him, Christian felt his humor return. Setting himself to be pleasant until he could return her to the palace, he kept his objections to himself. She didn't seem to think her behavior inconsistent—which made him wonder who had taught her that she counted for naught, for less than the stray cats and dogs that roamed the streets of London Town.

Nora stood in the privy chamber behind the older ladies-in-waiting and listened to the Queen's sobs. The royal bedchamber was dark, although it was not yet midday, for all the hangings were drawn across the windows. It was May, and the court hadn't quitted London due to the Queen's condition. Glancing over her shoulder at the closed door that led to the outside world, Nora couldn't decide whether it was better to endure the Queen's growing derangement or Lord Montfort's stalking. Mary's raised voice distracted her.

"Why doesn't he come?" the Queen cried. "He knows I'm with child again, and I need his comfort. And the war with France. I need counsel."

Mary leaned on the arm of her favorite waiting woman and ranted at Luiz de Ateca. Shrouded in black, her belly swollen, and her eyes red with weeping, she cast her gaze to the ceiling. "Why does God punish me? Is it because my kingdom is full of heretics? I search for them constantly."

Nora couldn't hear de Ateca's reply, but she could guess that the man was indulging in his usual tactics of reassuring Mary of King Philip's fidelity while urging her to burn more heretics. It had been three weeks since she'd made the mistake of going to the bear baiting. In that time the Queen's state had worsened. She'd taken to wearing armor again and grieving inconsolably over the absence of her husband.

Mary saw the estrangement between Philip and herself as the work of the devil and his minions, the Protestant heretics. The more distraught and gloomy Mary became, the more tense and oppressive grew her court. Rumors swarmed, flylike, in this atmosphere, and Nora stayed busy keeping William Cecil abreast of the latest gossip.

The newest rumor had it that the Queen would name her Catholic cousin Mary, Queen of Scots, her heir in place of Princess Elizabeth. Nora didn't have to tell Cecil that such an act would mean civil war.

The Queen waved de Ateca away and hobbled to her great bed of state, sobbing once more. Nora and the other ladies hovered nearby, helpless. Nora clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling. Poor Mary. To be cast aside by her father, then be called a bastard and made to humble herself before her father's mistress, Elizabeth's mother. It was no wonder the Queen was unhappy.

For years she'd lived in fear that her father would cut off her head to keep her from the throne. And now she'd succeeded to the crown, only to find herself hated by the people whose souls she was trying to save.