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Authors: Jennifer McGowan

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BOOK: Maid of Deception
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I remained kneeling as the men left the chamber, until it was just the Queen and me, alone. Not even the guard remained inside with us, preferring to wait on the stairs leading back up to the real world. I imagined him leaning against the wall or even standing at his ease on his feet, like a normal person. It was a nice thought.

The Queen seemed to be lost in rapt contemplation of the brick walls of this homely little chamber, but I wasn’t an idiot. She liked to see me on my knees. She’d prefer that I spent the whole day there. If she could have figured out a way for me to walk while kneeling, she’d have ordered me do it even when she was not around.

She hummed a little to herself, but at least it wasn’t a tune. This was more the “hmmm” indicating that
the monarch
was
deep in thought
. Had there been any musicians still awake in the castle to hear the sound, I suspected the unmelodious noise would have been adapted to a fully orchestrated choral performance before the next trumped-up Fairy Queen of the Goddess Moon festival we’d have to throw in Her Vanity’s
honor. So at least that was one benefit of being alone with the Queen. I tried to think of other benefits, but failed miserably. In fact, I’d knelt long enough to compose an entire elegy to the woman’s death before she finally spoke. “You have served me well this night, Beatrice,” she said. “It goes without saying that you cannot speak any of this—to anyone. I would have asked Meg, but she did not know Sophia when the girl first came to court. Anna is too lacking in guile, and Jane would have sooner attacked the men and silenced them for good than take part in such a little play as we just enacted here. Sophia’s gift hovers on the verge of revelation, but it is a gift that puts her at terrible risk. I need your discretion.” I sensed her glance at me then, the weight of silence between us—not just the silence of this room and its secrets, but the silence of another room, at Sudeley Castle, a room and secrets that had once nearly cost a young princess her future. “I believe I can count on you for that.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” I said quietly. What was it my father had always said? That the value of secrets held was ever more powerful than secrets shared?

I’d never realized the full truth of his statements until now.

However, if I was going to be stuck kneeling for the foreseeable future, I could at least learn something while I was there. “Who were those men? Priests?”

“Doubtful.” The Queen gave a derisive snort. “The Lords of the Congregation are not the only nobles who choose to do their business by skulking around under cover of cloak and darkness. But if you would defeat a scorpion, you must keep
it in sight. Now that I have given you as a witness to Sophia’s actions, you can expect to be questioned anytime, for any purpose, day or night.”

“Without you?” I asked, not even bothering to hide the fear in my voice. Questioning was not always a gentle process in the courts of kings and queens. To my great relief Elizabeth’s laugh was short and dismissive.

“Hardly,” she said. “You’d be dead before the end of the week.”

This . . . did not make me feel better, actually, but the Queen finally glanced at me. “Well, quit simpering, girl. Get up,” she said, as if I’d been loafing around on the floor for my own health. I hauled myself upright with as much grace as possible, then stooped to brush my skirts. Which was why I wasn’t looking at the Queen when she levied her next attack at me.

“I have decided that you should be married,” she said.

I composed my face into a semblance of not-screaming as I rose to face her. “You have, Your Grace?” I asked mildly.

“I have.” She eyed me with speculation, like I was a prime hog set out for the butcher. “You are passably attractive and stealthily duplicitous, and richly capable of destroying any who stand in your way, but you are also loyal to me—and, I see, to your fellow spies.” She raised her hand as I would speak. “No, do not thank me. It is not wholly a compliment I give you.”

I blinked at her, trying to find any compliment in her preceding words. I supposed “attractive” would count, if you didn’t include the “passably” before it. But the Queen was
continuing on. “But I find that to truly gain your full worth, I must position you in a place of greater intimacy with those about whom I wish to know more.”

This suddenly was not sounding very good. “And so you shall betroth me to another man upon whom I should spy?” I asked carefully. I didn’t like my options of those men.

“No, no,” the Queen said. “I shall betroth you to a man who will be so grateful for the honor that he would gift me scepter and sword, should he have them. Yes.” She nodded, still eyeing me. “That would do nicely. It will be a bit of a shock to the court, but they do well to be surprised now and again.”

I looked at her with growing concern. “You surely do not mean Lord Brighton?” I asked cautiously.

“Him! Oh no. I only agreed to that betrothal to get his coin for the Crown. That will also be achieved by granting him Lady Ariane’s hand in marriage. And as you can see, Sophia has become a bit of a thorny issue for me.” Her mind leaped nimbly to the new subject, allowing me a moment’s respite from this sudden intractable turn. “She needs to comport herself more normally, Beatrice. Meg can help with that—she’s been in court long enough to mimic the ladies. You can as well.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” I said brightly. “I brought her to your audience today specifically—”

“I know, I know.” The Queen waved her hand again. “There is naught you do that doesn’t have two or three reasons, a contingency purpose, and as many side benefits as you can extract.”

Once again she was speaking almost more to herself than to me, but I frowned at the cutting remark.
That isn’t wholly true,
I wanted to protest. Not all of my relationships and actions were built on lies and deception. . . .

I paused, thinking about that, and felt my heart twist a bit.
Was
this true? Did I love no one for who they were? Did I do anything that didn’t serve my needs?

The Queen could go no longer than thirty seconds without being entertained by the sound of her own voice, however, so she picked up her narrative again. “But with Sophia in the public eye acting the role of a proper lady, her strange and troubled months here can be more quickly chalked up to nerves and new surroundings. And, freed of her betrothal, she can circulate more easily with the young men of the court. Those she hasn’t already frightened witless, that is.”

I nodded, as nothing needed to be added here. But the Queen nodded back, her eyes focusing on me once more. “You, however, will serve admirably as the betrothed to Alasdair MacLeod.”

Despite my careful preparation against this very announcement, I could not stop my exclamation. “Alasdair!” I said, speaking quickly so she could not hear the betrayal of my own thudding heart. “But, Your Grace, he is not even English—and worse, he is not titled or flush with lands that are positioned for your advantage.”
Nor is he rich,
my mind screamed.
Or well-behaved. And he has already lied to me once, and who even knows how many more times?
“While I live to serve my country, in marriage as in all things”—
just not to a man I cannot control
—“I cannot see how he can be of such import
to you. Worse, while a casual flirtation has netted me the intelligence I have shared with you”—
and more information than that, truth be told
—“no one in the court would believe you would affiance me to a Highland Scotsman who is more brute than man. There is no value in it to you. And finally, my Queen— Well, I fear we do not suit.” This last sounded rather desperate, even to me.

“Quite the contrary, on all counts,” the Queen said, apparently also finding my protestations lacking. “Here, walk with me. I tire of these surrounds.”

She processed out of the chamber as if it were a drawing room, and we climbed up the long, curving steps once more. My brain was even more a-churn going up than it had been going down. After this night, I doubted I’d be able to see any staircase at all without feeling queasy.

We resurfaced in the long, broad corridor, and the Queen took my arm in hers as if we were bosom friends. The better for her to spin her terrible words into my ears alone.

“You are the perfect match, in all respects,” she said. “First, you’ve tarried enough with him that any betrothal between you will seem to be the result of some girlish foolishness.”

I stiffened reflexively, and her grin was quick and malicious. “It cannot be helped,” she said. “Second, MacLeod is a Scotsman, and the betrothal of the two of you will serve to send a message that England’s and Scotland’s interests are perhaps more closely aligned than anyone had previously thought. We’ll do well to make the announcement as public as possible, as quickly as possible—though the marriage itself will not be necessary anytime soon.” She
hmm
’d a little
again, and I wondered if this was a sign that her mind was going soft. It certainly would have explained this new pile of rubbish she was heaping upon me. “Third, the boy may not be flush with funds and land, but I rather doubt he’s as poor a prospect as you say. He brought his entire retinue here, on horses finer than much of what we have in our stables, and his retainers’ clothes are not coarsely spun. He may be a ruffian and a boor, but he’s not as penniless as you.”

I thought on this as we rounded the last corner and proceeded down the final hallway toward the Queen’s chamber. I . . . supposed it was possible that Alasdair had money. He never talked of it, and most men with money did. He was proud of his people, and his land, and the huge rock of a castle that his clan called home. But rich? It still was difficult to believe that.

“And then, of course, there is the Fairy Flag.”

This time I did pull away, and we stopped in a preceding antechamber to the Queen’s own rooms, hung with lush tapestries that glistened in the candlelight. “The Fairy Flag?” I repeated. “But that’s just a relic—and a myth. You cannot think it a serious advantage.”

“I can and I do,” the Queen returned, crossing her arms. “Would you deny England anything that will help us gain the upper hand in battle? Would you let soldiers and sailors go needlessly to their deaths because you were too stubborn to open your mind?”

“But it’s a
legend
, Your Majesty!” I protested, even in the face of her growing annoyance. Really, she was my Queen, but I could not stand by and allow such lunacy to proceed.
“I’m sure there are enough scraps of that Fairy Flag to make up seventeen new flags of a size equal to the original. It’s not like they’re the bones of a saint, Your Grace. These are a superstitious people, who hold on to beliefs of fairies and gold and monsters in their lochs.”

“Nevertheless.” The Queen raised her hand, indicating that this interview was at an end. “You will secure me the relic for England. That is not a request, Beatrice, but an order.”

I curtsied, not trusting myself to speak. And the hateful witch kept talking.

“Tomorrow I will announce to Alasdair and your father your betrothal, and secure the terms of the marriage contract. You need not be present.”

I whipped my head up, and she saw the anger simmering in my eyes. Saw it and took delight in it. “Then there will be a formal announcement before the evening meal, and music and dancing afterward. We’ll send messengers to London and Edinburgh and Paris. As old and formerly grand as your family is, the significance will not be missed.”

“Must you announce it so abruptly?” I moaned, not able to stop myself. “My betrothal to Lord Cavanaugh is only just canceled. It would be unseemly.”

She shrugged. “Give me a reason not to.”

I looked at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you stupid girl, that Alasdair and your father will know at once. The contract will begin to be negotiated, and your future is in their hands. I care not a whit for that. But if you want me to leave off from announcing it to the world quite yet, I can give you a few more days to accustom
yourself to the idea. And my price is a simple one. If you crave my silence for yet a little while, then you know what it is I want.”

I did, but she could not let this moment pass. She leaned into me, her dark eyes sparking with intensity in the flickering light of a dozen flames.

“Get me the Fairy Flag.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

I left the Queen’s presence still reeling, stumbling back to the maids’ quarters on feet that thankfully knew the way themselves. By the time I reached my own pallet, I was so exhausted that I could barely stand. I slumped, puzzled by the sight of my bed, knowing that I needed to strip off my ornate ball gown but not having the faintest idea how.

With a rustle of plain cotton, Jane was at my right. A second later Meg was on the other side, and Anna at my back. They were untying laces and unclasping hooks, and Sophia was in front of me on her knees, easing my feet out of slippers still marred with the rock dust of the spiral stone staircase. Within seconds I stood in only my shift. I opened my mouth to speak, to share with them the worst of what had happened, as there was no good in this night, only darkness.

BOOK: Maid of Deception
9.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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