Kathryn Kramer (41 page)

So much had happened that Alandra was in a daze on the journey back to the inn.  She hardly even remembered walking through the door or climbing the stairs, but suddenly she was standing by the hearth, slowly removing her clothing before his appreciative eyes.

"So lovely.  So very, very lovely."  He could see the soft curves of her young body through the sheer material of her under-gown and whistled.  Her hair formed a thick shawl of silk, loose and gleaming.  Her eyes were wide, her mouth soft and alluring.  At that moment she was the most beautiful vision he had ever seen.

"Oh, Christopher I love you so!"  Her rich, husky voice was like hands upon his skin
, doing more to arouse him than any caress.

"Alandra...."  He came to her, enfolding her, kissing her mouth and hair, her cheeks, her brow and her chin, driven beyond endurance by  her softness.

Fitting her body to his in a sensuous dance-like motion Alandra responded.

"My mother once told me that when a person is thinking about a loved one their ears burned.  If that is true
, then you must have felt my thoughts, my longing.  I thought about you, dreamed about you......"

He cupped her breast in his hand then ran his hard hands over her, stroking, searching out her most sensitive places.  Alandra writhed under his touch. Without any trace of modesty
, she tugged at the thin gown.  It floated in a whisper to the floor.

Nicholas stepped away just long enough to strip off his own garments.  When he came to her again
, he was all naked power and throbbing strength.  He lifted her and carried her to the bed.  All the days of anguish, of searching, of wanting drifted into oblivion as they made love.

He was gentle, rema
rkably so, savoring her body, touching her in a manner that spoke of his love.  Alandra made a small, wondering sound in her throat and opened up to him like a blossoming flower.  In turn he groaned as she explored, stroked and made love to him.  Alandra was caught in a trance of wondrous delight.  She had been starved without his love but now being with him was like savoring a banquet.  He molded her, shaped her, made her rediscover the appetite she had for passion.  When he entered her, she felt her heart move with love.  Clinging to him, she called out his name.

Later she snuggled up against him, burying her face in the warmth of his chest, bre
athing in his manly scent.  They needed to talk.  He had to be told so many things, and yet she couldn't bare to break the spell.  Her eyes felt heavy, she felt relaxed, and she felt content for the first time in such a long, long time.   She didn't want to sleep, not yet, she wanted to savor this moment of joy, but as he caressed her back, tracing his fingers along her spine, she drifted off.              

Chapter Fifty-Four

Whitehall
was a noisy mass of confusion.  It was the Queen's "dancing" day thus the great hall was filled to the brim not only with musicians but all those with a penchant for revelry as well.  Lords and ladies alike had to shout to be heard over the loud din of instruments.  Alandra and Nicholas couldn't have picked a worse time for an audience with the Queen.  And yet there was nothing that could be done now, thus addressing the guard they entered.

At the hub of nobles was
Elizabeth dressed in a gown of oyster, embroidered with brown and gold, an interesting design that looked as if a thousand eyes were staring out from her bodice and the folds of the skirt.  Elizabeth walked, ignoring the murmuring knot of courtiers clustered around her. She pretended to be oblivious to Nicholas's presence as well, as if it was every day a man escaped from the Tower.  But if Elizabeth ignored him, the courtiers did not.  They openly stared, for the daily gossip had preceded him.

"Shall we approach the Queen, Christopher?"  As if to prod him on
, Alandra took a few halting steps.             

Nicholas hesitated.  Alandra could sense the struggle going on within him, then he cap
itulated and followed  her without a word.   They were followed by the entourage of actors, flamboyantly attired in their, and Bessie who looking pertly pretty in her Sunday best dress.  The stately music gave dignity to group as it continued into the hall.

"Take heart, you made the right decision,"  Will Shakespeare whispered, walking but
a pace behind Nicholas.  "The queen can do naught but admire your courage."  And indeed it did take bravery to walk right into a lioness's lair.

"Let us hope so.  If nothing else we will give the court enough gossip for weeks......"   Nicholas replied, hoping against hope that this gamble would pay off.

Alandra and Nicholas made a striking sight.  He was dressed all in black and gold, his white ruff a startling contrast to the dark of his hair.  For the occasion he had hastily procured a new dress for Alandra, of gold velvet to match his gold lacings.  As they approached Elizabeth, he clasped Alandra's hand to give her reassurance, hiding his own apprehension beneath a smile.

Nicholas, Alandra and their party elbowed their way through the gawking crowd with a cool poise that  belied the nervous
ness they all felt.  Only once did he give pause and that was upon sight of an all too well known profile.  Clad in an outfit of red and silver was his old nemesis. 

Stafford
was busy ingratiating himself with the queen, yet Nicholas knew full well that Stafford was aware of him.   Nicholas surveyed the golden-haired man, yet his hatred had been tempered into severe dislike now that he knew that at least the man was innocent of Woodcliff's and Frizer’s murders.  Undoubtedly, he too had been naught but Morgana's pawn.  Perhaps Stafford had even believed that Nicholas was guilty.  Well, soon he would know, and it would all be over.  Even so, they would always be rivals.  That was just the way it was.

Nor was
Stafford his only adversary.  Morgana's eyes met Nicholas' across the distance of the room and realized the moment of truth had come.  Yet she held her ground and didn't try to leave the hall.  She laughed, but the sound was hollow, and her head kept turning in the entourage’s direction again and again. 

"If looks could kill
, I know I would be dead,"  Alandra whispered in Nicholas's ear.

Undoubtedly Morgana had already heard the gossip of Alandra's lineage and feared she'd have to share the spoils she had won so evilly.  As her eyes focused on Alandra they glittered with undisguised hatred
.

The
music changed from one of slow tempo to  that of a frenzied pace.  It was a dance of Spanish origin, one of turning and bowing and stepping quite lively.  Elizabeth changed partners frequently, but at last she tired and paused for a rest.  In that moment her eyes met Nicholas’s From across the room he bowed, daring her to continue to treat him as if her were invisible.

"
Very well, I see you.”  The queen lifted her voice so that it carried throughout the hallway.  The music broke off, the dancers stopped and everyone in the hall just stared.  "I was not aware you had been summoned to court, Sir Leighton."

"I wasn't.  I came of my own volition to tell you something that you must know."

"Don't waste your breath, Sir Leighton,"  Elizabeth chided, "I know all about it. Guards, remove him and take him to the Tower."  She was incensed, seeing his escape as a public affront to her importance and power.

"
Majesty, I will gladly return to prison but I beg you to listen  to me. You don’t  know how or why I was unjustly accused,” Nicholas responded.   "The wise and thoughtful monarch that I know would give me a chance to reveal the truth of all that has gone on.   Gloriana would give me a chance to explain so that I might obtain her mercy."

Elizabeth
eyed him thoughtfully.  "Speak then, tell us why the realm's foremost swordsman has paid us an impromptu visit."

"I h
ave come to accuse Morgana Woodcliff of willfully and cold bloodedly hiring an assassin, Tom Banter, to kill me and Will Frizer as well as paying Frizer to kill her husband, Lord Woodcliff.”

There was an outcry
from those assembled. The lords decried the accusations as blatant falsehoods, but the ladies seemed of a different mind.

Elizabeth
exclaimed bitterly.  "You had best know what you are saying or be guilty of slander amongst your other crimes."

"I have witnesses, including
Tom Banter who was hired to kill Will Frizer and me. One witness is present now”—Nicholas pointed to Bessie—and Banter and a young boy are at the moment lodged in a locked room of this palace.”  Looking behind him, Nicholas motioned for the actors -- Kempe,  Sly, Heminges, Lowin, Armin, Murray Thatcher and William Shakespeare--to take their place beside him.

Shakespeare's presence impressed the q
ueen, for she made it a point to address him.  "Master playwright, I welcome you to this hall, though were it up to me we would set aside such serious matters for a delightful comedy.  Have you any new treasures?"

Shakespeare bowed.  "Several, Your Majesty, based on yon nobleman's escapades."

"Ah yes, while he was fleeing from my supposed wrath he hid out among your theatre company."  Her jaw ticked warningly.  "Do you always shield fugitives, even when they are wanted by your queen?"

"Nay.  But in this case I knew a man to be innocent and thus I sought to guard him
for
your Majesty."

"I see!"  Sensing that Will Shakespeare might well be her match,
Elizabeth dropped the issue.  "Then by all means let this matter proceed so that I may get back to my dancing."

Regal, humorless, and unsmiling
, she conducted the audience with her usual competence and little display of emotion, that is until the details of the plots were revealed.  Shakespeare, Nicholas, Alandra, Murray and Heminges spoke so eloquently as they told the story from the beginning, including Will Frizer’s attesting to Nicholas’s innocence in Lord Woodcliff’s death and Armin’s identifying Tom Banter as Frizer’s murderer, and hearing a woman calling to the killer. Bessie gave her testimony and the young boy was summoned, and their evidence was further damning.

Dismissing the young boy from court,
Elizabeth’s eyes blazed with rage as she summoned Morgana. In the queen’s eyes the Widow Woodcliff was already condemned. “Woman, what do you have to say to all of this?”

"Lies! All lies. 'T
was Nicholas who killed my husband....he....he....."  Morgana fell to her knees, knowing well that the evidence and testimonies would say otherwise.  Tom Banter's testimony alone would be enough to hang her.  "Mercy, your Majesty." 

"Mercy?"  The q
ueen guffawed, delighting in the chance to bring about this haughty beauty's downfall.  "I should give you just as much mercy as you gave your husband, that loyal and brave old man, or that you were prepared to give Nicholas Leighton."  Her eyes squinted dangerously. "Black should be your colors, madame, for you are like the spider that devours its mate."

"He....he was old and I was young......."

"With eyes for other men.  Whore!  I will not abide such deviltry in my court."  Elizabeth stamped her foot.  "Take her away.  She is banished to the western counties, and all her properties are to be given up to the crown.  While she is in exile, she would be wise to thank God for a merciful queen who loathes to shed the blood of women of noble blood.  But if she causes any further trouble, or if there is any further plotting I will forget my leniency and part that painted head from her slender shoulders.  Do I make myself clear?"

Lord Stafford, visibly shaken, quietly retreated to the far side of the room as everyone in the hall shook their heads fearfully. All eyes watched as Morgana was dragged forcibly from the hall, and as the door slammed shut behind her, everyone shuddered.

Alandra quickly recovered. “And what about Tom Banter, Your Majesty?”

Elizabeth
waved her hand and eyed Alandra with impatience. “Justice will be done. He will be turned over to the magistrate.”

Elizabeth
then turned her attention to Nicholas. “You have served me well, Sir Leighton. Exposing that she-cat before all has gladdened my heart more than you will ever know.”

"My duty as always is to my q
ueen and to justice.  Now perhaps truly Lord Woodcliff will be at rest."

"Perhaps......." 
Elizabeth's eyes lit upon Alandra.  "I draw great delight in banishing that witch, however, I was looking forward to an interesting time watching you and your step-grandmother getting acquainted."

Fighting over Lord Woodcliff's inheritance
, Alandra thought sourly.  The queen would have to find another game to amuse her. "I was looking forward to it too, your Majesty," she lied.  In truth Morgana was not being sent faraway enough to suit her.

Elizabeth
placed her hand on Nicholas shoulder.  "I pardon you your escape and I take great delight in welcoming you back to court.  Lord Stafford is amusing, but frankly his ego can sometimes be a bore."  She spoke the next words loudly enough for Stafford to hear.  "I believe he needs to have you here just so his head does not get too puffed up!  With a bit of competition, he may learn to be more humble and to remember that I have raised him up and I can bring him down."

"Your power is absolute, Y
our Majesty,"  Nicholas said, barely suppressing a smile.

"Yes.  And I can grant any wish." 
Elizabeth's mood was gradually improving and her fond smiles clearly affirmed that Nicholas was in her good graces again.  "Knowing that, what is it you would wish for Sir Nicholas?"

Nicholas squeezed Alandra's hand.  "Truthfully, your Majesty?"

"Of course truthfully."

"I wish to marry Alandra Thatcher, nay Woodcliff." 

Elizabeth eyed him cooly.  "Marry?" Her disdain for the idea was not disguised.

"I want her to be my wife."

"Indeed."  Elizabeth reached out with her fan, touching Alandra's chin, turning her face this way and that with the soft feathers.  "I had rather been fond of the idea of marrying her off to Lord Stafford.  He is so fair and she so dark." 

Was she joking or was she serious?  Alandra didn't know. 

"What think you of that, Sir Leighton?"

"Over my dead body!"  Nicholas replied, then bowed to temper his show of anger.  "Your Majesty."

"So, I see.  That is the way that it is." Elizabeth's eyes darted back and forth between the two young people, taking note of the glow in their eyes whenever they looked at each other.  She sighed regretfully.  "True love I suppose you would call it."

"True love it is,"  Nicholas answered.

He knew that he might have grown enormously wealthy, might have become even more powerful, had he been content like Stafford to let the queen love him as she loved the lap dogs that hovered at her knee.  He might have played at her game.  He saw how Elizabeth’s eyes glowed with suppressed passion as she looked at him and it was obvious that she favored him, yet Nicholas had chosen to be honest.

"And I suppose were I to deny you this request you would do as Sir Walter Raleigh did and marry her anyway."

Nicholas knew the queen could be most unforgiving where matters of the heart were concerned.  Raleigh and his bride had been condemned to the Tower when they had married secretly. But he wouldn’t lie.  He wanted Alandra more than life itself.

"I must confess that I would elope with her at the very first chance, your Majesty." 

Nicholas's confession was met by stern silence.  For a moment he was certain that he would end up back in the Tower. 

"Such an impetuous man!  But then I have always liked men of daring." 
Elizabeth put her hand to her temple and pondered the matter for a long, long time.  "You know how much I favor you.  Of all the lords you are among those I hold most dear."             

"You Majesty does me too much honor.  I am overcome,"  Nicholas whispered.  Cautiously he waited, crossing his fingers behind his back.