The Queen's Lady (21 page)

‘Taken back what is mine. It will be too late if you marry, so, sadly …’ he pulled a grotesque face, ‘death is the only answer. How tragic that such a young lady should have such a weak heart.’

Poison. How could she have been so foolish to trust him? Jane wanted to scream – scratch at his eyes – but her head swam, her body wracked with chills. Cramps in her stomach bent her double. Her heart pounded, struggling to beat. Close to losing consciousness, she felt his arm twine round her waist, pulling her over to the bed.

‘Lie down, sweeting. I prefer to think you did not suffer unnecessarily.’ He arranged her on her side, gently folding her arms across her breast like an effigy on a tomb. As a final gesture, he slid the ring from her finger. ‘Sleep well, dear stepmother.’ He pressed a kiss to her damp brow and silently slid from the room.

It was so quiet in this part of the palace. Pain raged inside Jane’s body but she could not make a sound. She thrashed out at the jug on the table. It shattered on the ground but still no one came. She could hear distant laughter in the courtyard below, but everyone was leaving the bride to her last night’s lonely vigil.

‘Help!’ Jane whispered, tears trickling down her face. ‘Help me! James!’

Milly was delighted to discover that entry to the Queen’s palace was a simple business when you were in the entourage of an earl. Will Lacey cut through the flunkeys like a hot knife through butter.

‘But Her Majesty is abed!’ spluttered one manservant, bobbing at the earl’s heels as he strode down the cloistered passageway from the stableyard. Milly and the countess followed a few paces behind.

‘Then I will leave news of my arrival with her chamberlain and pay my respects on the morrow,’ the earl declared with admirable hauteur.

‘But my lord … !’

Will swung round to face the hapless servant. ‘Yes?’

‘Everyone has retired. It’s past midnight!’

‘Then I suggest you rouse whoever is in charge of lodging guests. We can hardly be the first visitors to court to arrive late.’

The poor man disappeared off with the thankless task of waking his master.

Lady Ellie frowned. ‘Do you think we should go to Jane at so late an hour? If only the roads had not been so muddy, we would have been here hours ago!’

Will pulled his gloves off, finger by finger. ‘No use lamenting something we cannot change, love. And if Jane is so opposed to this marriage, there is no point us waiting until the very day to see what use we can be to her. She’ll need her friends around her this night.’ He turned to Milly. ‘Do you know where she lodges?’

‘Yes, my lord, that is if she has the same room as before.’

‘Then lead on.’

Leaving one of the Lacey servants to inform the chamberlain where they had gone, the three set off for Jane’s quarters. A light still burned in the room, suggesting that the occupant was having a sleepless night.

Milly rapped on the door, but there was no answer.

Will shook his head. ‘She must have fallen asleep with the candles still lit. Does she want to burn the palace down?’

Something was wrong – very wrong. Milly lifted the latch. ‘My lady? Jane?’

The room was a mess – wine spilt on the floor, Jane herself curled up on the bed.

‘Drunk?’ wondered Will aloud. ‘She can hardly be blamed for drowning her sorrows, but still –’ He broke off as he spotted her hand lying limp over the edge of the mattress.

Milly and Ellie rushed across the room.

‘Quick, Will: summon help!’ ordered the countess.

The earl strode out into the corridor, bellowing for assistance. Milly felt for a pulse: it was there, but erratic.

Ellie slapped Jane’s cheeks lightly. ‘Jane? Jane? Can you hear me?’

Her eyelids flickered but she did not open them.

‘What do you think is wrong with her?’ Milly asked frantically.

Ellie surveyed the evidence in the room. Spilt wine with no attempt to clear it away; a smashed jug. ‘I’d say it must be something she drank – the onset was very sudden.’

‘You mean poison?’

Ellie nodded and snagged a quill from the inkstand. ‘Open her mouth – we must make her sick.’

Jane retched at the feather scratched the back of her throat. Her skin was still clammy and horribly pale.

Ellie held her until she had emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamber pot. She bent over and kissed the top of her head. ‘My poor Jane, what have they done to you?’

Or what had she done to herself? Milly could not help but wonder if her friend had been so desperate as to try to commit suicide. ‘Will she be all right?’

She took comfort in the fact that the countess was well known for her learning; her father had been a noted alchemist. If anyone understood the properties of strange substances, it would be her.

Ellie rubbed Jane’s hands vigorously to warm them. ‘I cannot say with any certainty. Some poisons are not cured by inducing the patient to vomit; indeed, they have no antidote. All depends on how much Jane took.’

As she spoke, the Queen’s own physician hurried into the room, followed by what appeared half the household. A grave-looking elderly man with a grey beard, the doctor quickly surmised what treatment had been administered so far and nodded approvingly at the countess. ‘Excellent – you’ve already given the emetic.’

‘No emetic – a feather in the throat,’ Ellie corrected him.

‘No matter: it has the same result. Do we know what poison she imbibed?’ He knelt at Jane’s bedside in a flurry of black robes.

‘No, doctor, but her heart rate is uneven and she is having difficulty breathing.’

‘Hmm, possibly wolfsbane. I do not know anything that can counter its effects; we have to wait it out. Has she got any worse since you found her?’

‘No, sir.’

He allowed himself a flicker of a smile as he pressed Jane’s limp hand. ‘That is a good sign. Her own body is battling the poison; we must pray she wins that war.’

Emerging from behind the scandalized courtiers and servants blocking the door, Clément Montfleury pushed his way to the front of the crowd. ‘
Mon Dieu!
What is happening? Why is my bride like this?’

Jane gave a low moan, audible only to Milly, Ellie and the doctor.

‘Will, Jane does not need an audience,’ the countess appealed to her husband. ‘Please, will you ask everyone to clear the room?’

The earl stepped between the bed and the spectators. ‘Good sirs, the lady is in the best possible hands. She must have peace.’

Montfleury bristled like a diminutive cockerel facing down the sheepdog. ‘But she is to be my wife!’

‘Then you must have her best interests at heart,
monsieur
. I pray you, everyone, clear the room and let the physician do his work.’

‘We are supposed to marry in but a few hours from now!’

‘Sir, is her health of no concern to you?’

Montfleury snapped his fingers at the earl. ‘Your innuendo is not welcome, sir. The welfare of my
chère Jeanne
is my chief occupation.’ With a sniff, the Frenchman departed along with the others. Milly would have thought better of him if he had insisted on staying, but evidently the unpleasant realities of nursing a patient through her illness did not appeal to his fastidious tastes.

The earl also withdrew, promising to guard the door against any more unwelcome visitors. Once he had gone, Milly set about cleaning the chamber while Ellie and the doctor monitored Jane’s condition. It looked as though they were in for a long night.

The watch was crying two o’clock by the time Jane began to revive.

‘Water!’ she whispered hoarsely.

With the physician’s permission, Ellie raised a cup of watered-down wine to Jane’s parched lips. They had taken the precaution of ordering it up from the Queen’s own stores to ensure it had no taint.

Jane’s eyes fluttered open and came to rest on Ellie’s face. She raised her hand feebly to touch her friend but gave up the effort. ‘Ellie. What are you doing here?’

The countess smiled at her through her tears. ‘Come to save you, it would appear.’

‘I feel terrible.’ Jane put her hand to her throat.

‘You look terrible, my dear.’

‘What time is it?’

Ellie raised an eyebrow. ‘What does it matter?’

‘I’m supposed to be getting married on the morrow.’ Jane closed her eyes again.

‘I don’t think that will go ahead now. You’ve been poisoned.’

Blue eyes snapped open. ‘Richard! Oh God, I remember now – Richard Paton – he gave me the wine.’ Frantically she groped the fingers of her left hand. ‘He took my ring. Ellie, he took Jonas’s ring!’

‘Hush now. We’ll see to all that. You must sleep – recover your strength. No one is going to harm you again. We won’t let them.’

Jane turned her face to the pillow, her grief for the loss of her wedding band outweighing all else at that moment.

The doctor rose from his knees. ‘Lady Dorset, I would say the marchioness is mercifully out of danger. The most worrying symptoms are subsiding but I would expect her to feel weak and have some lingering pain in her stomach. That should fade after a day or so.’ He frowned at the red stain on the rush mat. ‘I will report her allegations against her stepson to Her Majesty but it is most difficult to prove poisoning – it is such an insidious art, nigh on impossible to detect unless you catch the perpetrator in the act. The person responsible was careful to leave no sample for us to test.’ He left, promising to return in the morning to check on the lady’s progress.

‘What does that mean?’ Milly whispered to Ellie.

Ellie smoothed the hair from Jane’s brow. ‘I think he is hinting that it will be hard to pursue a case against someone as important as the present Marquess of Rievaulx, particularly when it is well known they bear ill will each to the other. Her allegation could be construed as a malicious attempt to blacken his name.’

‘But he can’t be allowed to get off scot free!’

‘But taking it to a court of law may not be the best avenue to keep her safe from that wicked man.’

‘So what can we do for her?’

Ellie shook her head sadly. ‘That is the question, isn’t it?’

‘She needs a champion – someone to stand up for her with her family and that awful Montfleury person.’

The two girls exchanged a glance, both reaching the same conclusion.

‘I hope James comes back soon,’ said Ellie.

20

Jane woke to find Ellie and Milly sitting either side of her bed like two lionesses guarding a cub. Wisps of copper hair drifting free of her cap to tickle her neck, Milly concentrated on embroidering a hatband while the countess read aloud from a manuscript of poems, dark eyes twinkling at the more absurd passages. Jane lay still, allowing herself to enjoy the scene before she had to face the reality of what had happened to her and what was still to take place, unless some miracle intervened.

‘What day is it?’ she asked at length.

‘Thursday.’ Ellie reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m pleased you are back with us.’

‘I should be getting married at noon.’

Milly squinted at the sun shining through the window. ‘I think you’ll miss that particular appointment.’

Jane lay silently for a few moments, taking stock of her condition. Her stomach ached, her limbs felt weak and heavy, but otherwise she was unharmed, which, considering the close brush with death of the night before, seemed a marvel. ‘I survived. I thought I was dead.’

Ellie smiled at her through her tears. ‘Nay, Jane, it will take more than a few sips of poison to do away with the Dowager Marchioness of Rievaulx.’

Her words jogged Jane’s memory. ‘My ring.’

‘I know, my dear. Will is doing what he can to regain it for you.’

‘Has my stepson been arrested?’

Milly stabbed her cloth with a huff. Ellie gave her a stern look, reminding her not to upset the patient. ‘Not yet.’

‘Why not?’ Jane tried to sit up against the pillows but Ellie pushed her back.

‘Stay still. You are ordered to complete bed rest by the Queen on the advice of her physician.’

‘Tell me.’

Milly scowled. ‘I’ll tell you why, Jane. The thieving knave claims you suffer from a weak heart, denies poison had any part in your so-called “fainting episode” yester eve. He admits calling on you, says you gave him the ring as a sign of the peace made between you both, and calls his servant to witness that he left you in good health at around eleven.’

‘He lies.’

‘Of course he does, but he’s a marquess, therefore he must be right.’ Milly snapped her thread in her fury. ‘Oh, he’s full of sympathy for your poor health, is our mendacious marquess, but says that a poor female couldn’t possibly understand such things and would be quick to cry poison when learned minds know better.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘He even uses your survival as proof that you are mistaken, says you panicked, suspecting poison and induced your own symptoms. He’s even persuaded the Queen’s physician that this is a possible explanation.’

Jane lay on her back, hands fisted at her side, glaring at the faded bed curtains. ‘When I get out of here, I’m going to corner Richard and stick his codpiece full of pins – while he is still wearing it. And that is just as the prelude to my revenge.’

‘Good for you, Jane. I’ll hold his arms. I have some very long pins in my workroom – let me know how many you need.’

Ellie shook her head. ‘My, my, what a bloodthirsty crew I have fallen among. I was content to leave his punishment to Will, but perhaps your idea has merit.’

‘Gelding is too good for that man – he should be executed for his crimes!’ Milly continued.

Jane flinched – giving vent to her anger was one thing, contemplating the marquess’s death quite another. ‘He is Jonas’s son for all that.’

Milly was less than impressed. ‘Humph. Perhaps his mother wasn’t honest: he shows none of the kindness you met in your husband. I struggle to believe they are kin.’

Their conversation was interrupted by a disturbance just beyond the chamber.

‘You cannot go in there, sir!’ bellowed Will. Feet scuffled – something heavy fell to the floor.

‘I’m taking her to church!’ thundered the Earl of Wetherby. ‘I do not care if she is at death’s door: she’s marrying Montfleury this very day.’

Will said something in return, but as he was speaking softer now his words were lost.

Wetherby knew no such moderation. ‘She brought this on herself. I don’t believe for one instant that the marquess would do this to her. She’s been trying to wriggle out of this match ever since the papers were signed. I won’t stand for it!’

Ellie’s normally kind face grew incandescent with outrage; Milly jumped to her feet, placing herself between the bed and the door.

‘If he dares lay a hand on her, I’ll box his ears!’ she vowed.

Jane closed her eyes, embarrassed that her friends should hear how little love her own family bore her.

‘Daughter!’ The earl had apparently forced his way into the room as his voice came from much closer. ‘Stop this play-acting and get up. We’ve a wedding to celebrate.’

‘The Queen has ordered her to rest.’ Will sounded as angry as her father. She could sense both of them at her bedside but she took the coward’s way out and kept her eyes closed in the feeble hope that if her father was convinced she was too ill to get up he would leave her alone.

A meaty hand gripped her shoulder and shook. ‘Stop this, you disobedient she-devil! I know you’re well enough. You will obey me. Ouch! Good God, wench, that hurt!’ The fingers quickly released their hold.

‘Oh, I pray your pardon, your lordship. My needle must’ve slipped.’ That was Milly. Where on earth had she pricked her father? That didn’t bear thinking about.

Jane gave up on the attempt to ignore the incursion into her chamber. She opened her eyes and saw her father had brought Henry with him; her brother was keeping Will back as her father attempted to get her to rise.

‘I told you she was playing us false!’ crowed her father.

‘This is ridiculous!’ interjected Ellie. ‘Your daughter was poisoned but a few hours since and you are intent on dragging her to church! Have you taken complete leave of your senses? I appeal not to your heart as I know you do not have one, but surely common decency should tell you to let her rest.’

‘Poisoned, i’faith? Nay, she merely tried to renege on our agreement with Montfleury by staging her collapse.’

The little countess went head to head with the man, despite the fact he outweighed her by a good five stone. ‘And if she did, what would that tell you? How can you push your own child into a marriage when it is clearly so repulsive to her?’

‘So you admit it was a plot to escape the wedding?’

Ellie could have screamed with frustration. ‘No, sir, I said no such thing. I am trying to make you see reason.’

Clutching the sheets more tightly, Jane sensed that her father was girding himself up to drag her from her sick bed, Queen’s orders or no. He was so desperate for this marriage to proceed – greed had gone to his head. He was prepared to haul her from the sheets as a goodwife tugs the carded fleece to spin into profitable yarn. For all her friends’ arguments on her behalf, the basic fact remained: she was still going to have to marry the Frenchman.

Jane was preparing herself for the unseemly tussle when there was a further commotion at the door. Two more people forced their way into the chamber.

‘Diego!’ squeaked Milly, abandoning her post at Jane’s side to throw herself into her lover’s arms.

‘James!’ Will laughed in relief taking Henry’s arm. ‘In the nick of time. Come give me a hand here. The Earl of Wetherby and his son were just leaving.’

‘It would be my pleasure.’ James took Henry’s other arm as they hauled him out into the corridor.

The tide had turned as Laceys now outnumbered the Percevals. ‘My lord, I’m sure the Queen will not be impressed when she hears that her express orders that her lady remain abed have been challenged,’ Ellie said pertly.

Seeing the game go against him, Jane’s father ignored the countess and glared down at his daughter. ‘I’ll expect you to proceed with this wedding as soon as the Queen gives you permission to rise.’

Jane was tempted to say in that case that she thought she had discovered a calling to a life in bed, but decided not to risk it. ‘I thank you for your kind wishes for my recovery.’ She gave him a flinty smile that sparked off another barrage of insults as her father reluctantly retreated.

The room finally cleared of Wetherby and son, Jane could turn her full attention to the wonderful fact that James was back – here, in this very room. Her emotions were in turmoil. He looked well – sunburnt and shabby but in very good health. She feasted her eyes on him as he greeted his brother and sister-in-law. Then he reached her side and kissed her hand.

‘So, Lady Jane, what trouble have you been brewing while I’ve been gone? And whom do you want me to do away with to put it right?’

That was the moment when finally, after all the shocks of the last few hours, Jane burst into tears.

*

The others left Jane and James alone, taking discreet positions at the far end of the chamber so that Diego could tell them about the voyage. As she went, Milly tugged free the ties securing the bed hangings to give them added privacy. Deciding this was no moment for respectful caution, James slid on to the bed beside Jane and gathered her into his arms so she could sob against his chest. Her tears dampened his shirt, her cheek hot against his heart. He ran his hand over her long hair in a soothing gesture, letting the crying run its course. Aware how fortunate he was that she still appeared to care for him and that by some miracle had remained single, he silently prayed that he would find the right words to comfort her, the right actions to help her.

‘Ah, love, what have they done to you?’ he asked as her sobs subsided.

Her shoulders shuddered as she took a deep breath, trying to regain control.

‘I’m not sure what we walked in upon, but I know about the marriage. Milly wrote to Diego but the letter missed us. I understand that you have no wish to wed Montfleury?’

‘Not him,’ she whispered, fingers tracing the loosened lacing at his throat.

James allowed himself a small smile, bent and kissed the top of her head. ‘Then you won’t have to.’

‘It’s not that simple, Jamie.’

He put that aside for now. If he had to take her out of the country, he would; there was no way she was going to be forced into marrying the French coxcomb. When he had left for his voyage, he imagined she would have crushed the pretender to her hand under her boot heel long before now. As she had not, he was more than happy to do the deed for her. ‘What else has been going on? Have you been ill?’

‘Poisoned.’

He jerked in shock, almost dislodging her before he pulled her back against him. ‘What?’

‘Rievaulx did it – wants my dower rights and probably my dowry too.’ She turned her face to look up at James, blue eyes pools of sorrow. ‘He took the ring, Jamie.’

James forced himself not to leap from the bed and go hunt down the marquess right that moment. ‘He’s a dead man.’

She reached up and brushed his jaw with her fingers. ‘No, he’s not worth it. I don’t want you to get into trouble for me.’

Another matter to leave for later discussion, James decided. He was not letting Rievaulx get away with hurting her. ‘I’ll get your ring back – I promise.’

She snuggled against him. ‘It is enough to have you back. Tell me of your voyage.’

James let her rest, her head against his heart, as he related the adventures in Roanoke, shaping them to amuse her. He could sense her silent attention to every detail as she caressed the fabric of his shirt, reassuring herself that he really was there. Seeing her so battered by those who should have looked after her, he could not but feel fiercely protective. Her welfare had become his first priority. The most important thing right now was to help her rest from her ordeal, so he sought a way to make her sleep. Deliberately, he shifted from the more entertaining anecdotes to give her details of his surveys, reeling off long lists of facts he had noted for his map. Sure enough, it worked like a sleeping draught and her breathing evened out, her hand went limp. She slept.

Easing out from under her, he arranged her on her feather pillow and tucked the sheets around her. Her fingers twitched as if still reaching out for him. He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand in reassurance, then walked softly to other side of the room.

‘All well?’ asked Will.

‘She’s resting.’ James slumped next to his brother on the bench.

Will threw his arm round James’s shoulders. ‘What a homecoming.’

‘Aye. It’s a tangle.’

From her perch on Diego’s knee, Milly wrinkled her nose. ‘But from the mess of raw silk, we can draw the thread. There has to be a way.’

‘You know, when I left her, I was convinced she was as happy as she could be, as safe as the Queen’s jewels serving as one of her ladies. What happened?’

‘Her family happened.’ Milly stroked Diego’s hands folded under hers.

‘Tell me the details. Jane gave me the outline but I lack the shading.’

Milly, being closest to the action over the past months, briefly explained the machinations of the Percevals, Montfleury and the Patons. James could feel his anger rising but he had to see beyond emotion if he was going to be of any use to Jane.

Will crossed his feet at the ankles. ‘Do we understand you consider the lady yours now, James?’

He nodded. ‘If she’ll have me.’

‘About time too,’ muttered Ellie before giving James a beautiful smile. ‘She wants you; she always has.’

‘Then, brother, I think you should lead this campaign,’ said Will, ceding command.

James stood up and strode to the window, then back to his little circle of recruits in Jane’s army. ‘As I see it we have three problems: making her family back away; turning Montfleury in another direction than marriage and getting justice for Jane with that bastard, Rievaulx. What is the Queen’s attitude to all this?’

Will glanced over at the curtained bed, afraid that they were disturbing Jane with their discussion, but there was no sign she was awake. ‘Thus far Her Majesty has been persuaded to take Wetherby’s side. Appearances made that inevitable.’

‘We need more allies then: those who are closer to the Queen.’

‘The Queen’s ladies should be on Jane’s side,’ suggested Ellie.

James shook his head. ‘No, someone even closer to the Queen than that.’