Kathryn Kramer (38 page)

"There might have been reasons.  No one can judge."

The q
ueen drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, revealing her agitation, though at what or at whom Alandra didn't know.

"And you say there were no clues as to your identity."

"Only a blanket, your Majesty."

Elizabeth
's eyes gleamed with interest.  "A blanket?"

"One of fine linen.  It gives me hope that my heritage is not that of a paupe
r."  Alandra gave a deep sigh. "But then I will never really know."

"No, I suppose that you won't.  And 't
is a shame.  Your story intrigues me.  How I do love a mystery." 

One of the Queen's spaniels playfully tugged at the hem of her dress, diverting her attention as she scratched him behind the ears.  Picking up a ball
, she playfully threw it across the room, watching as he padded after it.

"Alandra is a very pretty name.  How did you come by it, child?" she asked at last.

"Murray told me that he gave me that name because of the initials on the blanket.  Alandra for the "A" stitched there, Wilona for the "W".  He thought that it went very well with Thatcher.  Very well indeed."  She held up her chin proudly.

"A!  W!" 
Elizabeth cocked her head.  Shrewd eyes surveyed Alandra.  "How strange....."  For a long moment she stared at her, appraising her with the same haunted look she had held when fist they met.

"Strange?"  Alandra didn't understand what she meant.  All she knew was that the Queen was studying her a
gain and that it was unnerving. God help her if she had said anything that might have gotten Murray into trouble.

"I want you to come back again.  Tomorrow afternoon."
             

Alandra had feared she might not please
Elizabeth.  Now it seemed she needed to have more fear of having been far too entertaining.  "As you please, your majesty.”

There were no goodbyes, no formal
dismissal.  Elizabeth's attention had shifted to a young man garbed in deep red.  She motioned him over to take Alandra's place at her side. 

Without looking back
, Alandra hurried across the shiny marble floor and swept through the doorway.

Had she lingered
, she might have heard the queen whisper, "do you see that young woman?"

"Aye, your Grace!"

"I want you to leave no stone unturned in your quest.  I want you to find out more about this girl."

His brows shot up in surprise.  "About her?" 

"She pleases me and her story is deeply moving."  The queen snapped her fan in his face.  "Do as I bid.   I must know if what she tells me is true."  She bit her lip, her eyes glazed as her thoughts dipped back in time.  "For if what I suspect is true and perhaps even if it
isn't
.........."  She didn't finish her statement, but as her eyes touched on Morgana, she laughed.

Chapter Fifty

Clouds hovered low over the city as Alandra made her way back to the Black Unicorn.  In order to save time
, she hailed a boatman and traveled part of the way by barge, while pondering over the queen and what had been said today. So all this time Elizabeth had known in her heart that Christopher was innocent of Lord Woodcliff's murder and still had refused to lift a finger to help him.  It seemed a most heartless thing to do, yet after getting to know the monarch Alandra realized it was not a bit out of character.  The question was what to do now.

"Get him out of the Tower by force if necessary," she whispered to herself, letting her daydreams conjure up visions of a daring rescue.  In the e
nd she gave such fantasies up. Will Shakespeare and her father were right.  There was no way to beat the Tower.  Moreover, such an act would only get Nicholas into more trouble than he was already in.  It seemed, therefore, that the only answer lay in changing Elizabeth's mind and making her see how wrong it was to punish a man just for succumbing to the charms of Morgana's beauty and being a womanizer. Alandra knew although she had disliked his behavior, that he had changed and of that she would have to convince Elizabeth.              

Alandra felt cold drops on the back of her neck and glanced up at the clouds Turning up the collar of her cloak
, she paid the boatman, then ran down the cobbled streets, ducking in and out of shelter, as she made her way back to the inn.  She was greeted at the front door by an inquisitive group of actors whom the innkeeper told her had spent the better part of the morning just looking out the window to catch sight of her when she returned. Happy to see their warm, welcoming faces, she was glad that she had finally confessed about her first visit to the queen and the second invitation for her to return to court.

"Well, monkey, what did old carrot top have to say?"  Will Kempe playfully tweaked her nose.  "Is she going to give ole Christophe
r a chance to defend himself?"

"Is she going to let him out of the Tower and put Lord Stafford in his place?" 
William Sly inquired anxiously.

Alandra's d
ejected look answered for her.

"No?"  Robert Armin slammed his
fist against the wall.  "Why?"

"She's toying with Christopher,"  she answered.  Rain dripped from her sodden cloak and she hurried
to hang it on the nearest peg.

Two of the actors spoke at the
same time. "Toying with him?"

Alandra gave vent to a long drawn out sigh.  "She knows he didn't kill Lord Woodcliff
or Will Frizer.  All this time she has known. 'Christopher is in the Tower  because he angered the queen by showering that yellow-haired witch with his affections.  She told me so."

Will Kempe gave a long whistle.  "I don't envy him then.  Anyone will tell you how vindictive she can be when it comes to her slighted pride.  I fear our Chris
topher is in for a long stay."

"Aye,"  William Sly agreed, "and there is little we can do
to help him.  Sorry, Alandra.

"
Not half as sorry as I......"  Her voice trailed off.

Following them into the main room
, she told the same story to her father, Shakespeare, Burbage and Heminges.  Her news did little to brighten the already dreary day.   Worse yet, the actors had their own troubles.  It was true that the Privy Council was promising to open the theatres again, proving their bark was much worse than their bite, but also true that the land lease on the theatre occupied by the Lord Chamberlain's Men was running out.  The landlord, Giles Alleyn, was not anxious to renew it.  The Lord Chamberlain's Men would have to look elsewhere for a building that housed a stage. 

"And thus we are homeles
s......"  Robert Armin sighed.

"We might as well go back on tour.  At least we
had a place to hang our hats," William Sly mumbled.

"No!  Most definitely not that."  Now that the theatres had been allowed to exhibit plays again
, Richard Burbage was of a mind to stay in London where he could gain further acclaim for his acting prowess.  "You forget there is still the Curtain.

Burbage's father had acquired the neighboring theatre the Curtain ten years before.
Though the Lord Chamberlain's Men had acted there, they were not in a hurry to make it a permanent home.  It was a building in poor repair and lacking in amenities.

"Perhaps for a time..."  Shakespeare conceded, trying his best not to hurt Burbage's feelings
.

"We can entertain the rats,"
Kempe chortled, mocking the rodents' squeaks.  "But then perhaps they might be a better audience than those damnable groundlings at that."

"We need our own theatre,"  Heminges grumbled.  "The Lord Admiral's Men have their p
ermanent theatre in the Rose."

"But where can we go to establish our own permanent home?"  William Sly inquired.  "The Swan has been closed.  We don't want to go back to playing inn
yards."

"We'l
l build our own theatre," Shakespeare suggested, obviously liking the idea the moment he proposed it. 

"Build our own?"  Heminges seemed to be calculatin
g the cost in his head.  By the expression on his face, he clearly thought it a dream that was totally unreasonable.

"And make it a globe of dramatic excellence.  A theatre-in-the round just patterned after the inn
yards. Yes, we'll call it the Globe."

The topic of conversation changed from Alandra's visit to the queen to the matter of building the new theatre, with everyone enthusiastically giving suggestions, then Murray brought the subject back to Alandra
's summons to Whitehall again.

"It seems you were gone a long, long time.  Surely the queen must have had more to say for herself than just "no".  What did tal
k about?" 

"She wanted to know all about me.
  She said that she liked me."

"Wanted to know about you?" 
Murray's brows shot up, then wrinkled in a frown.  "As to what?"

"Who
I am and where I come from.  I told her about your having found me in a basket by the side of the road and how...."

"Alandra!
You didn't!" Murray exclaimed, as he exchanged a wary glance with Shakespeare. Wringing his hands, Murray started to pace back and forth.  "You shouldn't have done that.  Oh, woe is me!  You shouldn't have revealed it to her.  'T was none of her business."

"But why?  It's true....." 

She really didn't understand her father's reaction, but later on when a messenger came from Elizabeth bidding Murray to come to Whitehall and to bring the monogrammed blanket, she understood his fear.  Nor was the matter put easily to rest.  Heminges, Sly and Burbage were likewise summoned, as were several of the other actors who had been with Murray and Shakespeare in the early years. 

Alandra was certain that she was suffering from a nightmare as she once more faced
Elizabeth in the presence room.  She was pale and shaken, just certain that unwittingly she had voiced information that was now going to endanger the very man who had been so good to her. Her eyes pleaded with Murray to forgive her as she stood beside him awaiting the queen’s utterance. Her hand rested on her father’s arm, but though she tried to remain calm, her poise shattered with one look at the queen’s frown.

“Oh, please, Your Majesty….” Alandra dipped low in a curtsy and held the pose, hoping that a show of humility might somehow elicit
Elizabeth’s mercy.

“Rise,” the queen promptly told her, “and, for the love of God, wipe off that woe
-be-gone expression. I’ve brought you here for some happy news, child.”

“Happy news?” Alandra gripped
Murray’s arm.

“What would you do if I told you that I know who you are?”

Murray gasped.

“Who I am?” The feeling that her world was about to be shattered overcame Alandra. Her fingers went numb, and she found herself saying, “I
’m—I’m not certain that I really want to know.”

“Of course you do,”
Elizabeth snorted. “I suspected as much, but I had to make certain before I revealed it to you, thus I have questioned several people who have ascertained your identity.”

All sorts of thoughts whirled around in Alandra’s head. What if her real parents had been enemies of the queen and had been executed at
Elizabeth’s command? What then? What if her mother had “pleaded her belly” to escape being sent to the scaffold, only to meet her death once her baby was born? Wouldn’t that explain why Alandra had been found by the side of the road? And if her parents were Elizabeth’s enemies, what of her? Would the queen consider her an enemy as well? Or what if her parents had been from foreign shores? Spanish perhaps? Would she then be sent away from the homeland she had so come to love?

“You are a member of a most honored family.”

“What?” Alandra had become so immersed in her own thoughts that for a moment she didn’t understand.

“I said that you come from noble lineage, child. A Woodcliff, albeit one of illegitimate birth, I’m afraid.”
Elizabeth shrugged apologetically. “Even so, there are many rewards.”

“A Woodcliff?” Alandra was certain that
Elizabeth was making fun of her, playing another one of her games. But how cruel to mock her with the name of that poor murdered old lord.

“The initial
W
on your blanket stands for Woodcliff.”

“How could you!” Alandra couldn’t control her anger. “How could you, an anointed queen, perpetrate such a jest? Well, have your laugh and have done with it. Then please allow my father and myself to go where we belong.”

Elizabeth drew in her breath in a rasp. She sputtered like a pistol about to misfire, but instead of raging, she chuckled. “So, you are no milksop. You will speak your mind and do it with fire. A bit like your grandfather in his younger days. But you are tempered also with your mother’s gentleness. A good combination.”

Alandra was in shock;
Murray was speechless.

“Then you are serious? You aren’t making fun of me?” Alandra asked, finally finding her voice. For a moment she feared she might faint, but struggled against doing such a humiliating thing.

“Most emphatically no!” the queen declared.

Elizabeth
ordered two brocaded chairs to be brought beside her so that Murray and Alandra could have a seat as she elaborated on the details. Alandra was no simple maid at all, but the illegitimate daughter of the old lord’s only child, a young lady-in-waiting named Anne.

“Anne Woodcliff!” Alandra exclaimed. Now she knew why
Elizabeth had stared at her that first day they had met. She had seen Anne Woodcliff’s image emblazoned in Alandra’s features.

“A sweet and lovely young woman, but one, I fear, who was deplorably naïve. She listened to the sweet, but lying words of a scoundrel and found herself with child.”
Elizabeth clasped her hands together. “Oh, if only I’d known, then I would have helped her. But she feared my anger and her father’s wrath and thus kept it secret.” The queen revealed that Anne had left the court to hide away on one of her father’s estates and there had given birth to her daughter.

Alandra remembered the queen saying that Anne was dead. “Did she—did she die giving birth to me?” She wanted to understand how she could have been abandoned.

“No, though  I’m told she had a hellish time.” Elizabeth told how the young woman had entrusted her secret to the woman she had hired as a nurse. She had hoped that she could somehow make a home for the baby. “And she might have had her father not found out.”

Alandra could well imagine the scene. “And so she gave me up.”

“No. For one so gentle she put up a terrible fight. One that in the end she lost.” The queen told of how Lord Woodcliff had had the baby abducted in order to save his daughter’s good name. “He reasoned that she could have other children.”

“It
  was he who put me by the roadside,” Alandra said softly as the pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming into place for her.

Elizabeth
nodded. “I knew him well. He was a kind man, an honorable man. He loved his daughter to distraction. He meant well. Had he known that she would be so overtaken with melancholy that she would just fade away, he would never have done it.”

“And so my mother grieved…”

“She tried to find out where you had been taken. She searched far and wide but to no avail. There are those who insist that she died of a broken heart and having witnessed her decline, I think it possible.” Elizabeth was devilishly pleased with herself. If everything she  said wasn’t exactly the truth, at least it could be said that she could fabricate a story to rival any other.

Alandra’s eyes burned with tears. Her mother had loved her so much that she had let her unhappiness consume her. It was a tragic story. “And what of my father?”

“Richard Pembroke was his name. I’d like to tell you that he deserved your mother’s love, but he was a rogue. He was married at the time of their liaison, though he didn’t tell her. Nor from what I heard did he grieve for long but moved on to another conquest.”