The Highwayman (31 page)

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Authors: Doreen Owens Malek

Tags: #Romance, #Historical romance, #kc

BOOK: The Highwayman
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“Everything is fine.”

Alex went down the hall to join Mary, who was waiting for her.

“How is he?” Mary asked.

“Resigned.”

“I can’t say that I blame him.”

“Nor can I.”

The women nodded to the guards as they left the prison and stepped out into the pleasant spring afternoon.

* * * *

Alex bided her time for several days, waiting for an opportune moment to plead Burke’s case.

But the queen remained in a foul temper over reports of malcontents such as Southampton and his friends gathering at Essex House, so Alex kept quiet. She was trying to gather her nerve one morning on which the queen seemed somewhat brighter, when Mary Howard took her aside.

“I have some bad news,” Mary said in a low tone.

“Is there any other kind?”

“Brace yourself, it’s very bad.”

“Oh, Mary, just tell me.”

“Markham has gotten word of Burke’s past. He knows what Burke was about in Ireland and is preparing a brief for the queen on the subject.”

“Oh, my precious Lord! How could he have come by such information?”

“Does it matter? Markham was furious that Burke told the queen about the impressment of seamen. You know she doesn’t like to hear such stories. She wants her navy at full complement, but she doesn’t care to know how it’s done, especially if the means used are suspect. Markham has been determined to see Burke hang, and now he has the evidence to get a warrant.”

“Who told you all this?”

“John Harington. He was in the room when Markham was preparing the case against Burke.”

“Why did he tell you?”

“It’s common knowledge that we are friends as well as kin, and he knows that Burke came here with you.”

“I must prevent Markham from getting to the queen!” Alex said wildly, starting to run.

Mary blocked her path. “Alex, listen to me, you can’t. If Markham doesn’t tell her, someone else will. The story is all over the court. You must stay silent and see what happens. There is no other course open to you. At least by keeping out of the fray you may be able to help Burke in the future.”

“When the queen hears this she will have no mercy,” Alex said miserably. “The rebels have been a thorn in her side for years, and she will see Burke drawn and quartered. Hanging will surely be deemed too good for him.” She closed her eyes. “Oh, why did I let him accompany me here? I was selfish and wanted to spend some last moments with him, and look where that has led. This cursed happenstance is all my fault!”

Mary took her by the shoulders and shook her hard. “Stop this caterwauling!” she said sharply. “Bewailing your fate and his will not help him now. You must keep your wits about you and act wisely or all will be lost!”

Alex took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and nodded.

“Now, we must go about our business as if nothing is amiss. We are scheduled to display the gifts for the Venetian envoys. Come with me and let us do so.”

Alex trailed in Mary’s wake, forcing herself to remain calm.

What Mary said was true. She was Burke’s only hope.

* * * *

It was late afternoon when a page came into the room where Mary and Alex and a circle of court ladies were sewing. Alex was staring down at her unfinished work, blinded by silent tears.

“Her Majesty requests Lady Selby’s presence in her privy chamber,” the boy said.

Alex rose from her chair, looked once at Mary, and then followed the boy into the hall.

The queen was standing on a pedestal with two seamstresses at her feet fitting her for a new gown. Alex curtsied.

“Well, Lady Selby,” the queen greeted her, “it seems your horsemaster has a colorful past.”

Alex said nothing.

“You’ve heard the charges Captain Markham has brought against your man Burke?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I have sent Sir John Harington to speak to the prisoner, and Harington reports that Burke swears you knew nothing of his previous doings when he was hired. Is that true?”

Alex looked at the two fitters, who were poised, fascinated, listening to every word.

The queen saw the direction of her gaze and said, “You are dismissed,” to the seamstresses.

The women, visibly disappointed, took up their things and left. The queen waited until the door had closed behind them and then said, “Well, Alexandra? Were you ignorant of this man Burke’s past when he came to you?”

The time for dissembling was long gone. She decided to follow her initial instinct to reveal all and hope for a compassionate reception. Burke could hardly be in a worse case if the truth failed to help him now.

“No, Your Majesty,” she said quietly. “I knew who he was.”

“Hmm,” Elizabeth said, watching Alex closely. “And how came you by that knowledge?”

“I knew him in Ireland.”

“What?”

“Your Majesty may recall that my uncle, Philip Cummings, went to Ireland with my lord of Essex last spring.”

“Do not speak to me of that ill-fated expedition, I wish to forget it,” Elizabeth snapped.

“It is not so much of the expedition I would speak, Your Majesty, but of how I came to be on it.”

“On it? Explain yourself.”

“My uncle wished to leave me with an order of nuns whilst he was gone. To avoid such a fate I stowed away on board the
Silver Swan
and landed in Ireland with the rest of the ship’s company.”

Alex had the queen’s full attention now. The old lady sat on a chair and gestured for Alex to do the same. “Go on,” Elizabeth said.

Alex said a quick, silent prayer and then plunged into the story, telling as much as she could remember. They were interrupted midway by a knock from Lady Warwick, but the queen sent her away, telling her that she wished to be alone with Lady Selby until further notice.

“And so Burke came with me to London, intending to leave me here and then catch a ship back to Ireland,” Alex concluded. “But when Your Majesty met us at the gate, he was compelled to stay, and then ...” She hesitated.

“And then the encounter with Captain Markham.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The queen rose, and Alex jumped up, too.

“Lady Selby,” the queen said, pacing, “that is a most fantastical story.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So your son is not Lord Selby’s, but Burke’s.”

Alex nodded, her heart in her throat, and then croaked, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The queen stopped walking and whirled to face Alex, clasping her hands together at her waist. “Something puzzles me, Lady Selby. What possible advantage do you hope to gain for your imprisoned lover by telling me this Byzantine tale?”

“No advantage, ma’am. I merely wished to tell the truth.”

“A bit tardy about it, were you not?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You hoped that I would dismiss the charge of desertion and so the rest of this sordid tale would never see the light of day.”

“That is so, ma’am.”

“Who else knows of this?”

“My uncle, and Lady Howard.”

“Both of whom will keep it to themselves, for their own reasons. See you do the same. There are enough wagging tongues at court about this servant who turned out to be an Irish rebel. We can spare the idle gossipers the rest of it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“So, what’s to be done? Captain Markham is pressing his suit most vigorously, and I must pay heed to his remarks. Amnesty for all the rebels in Ireland was a condition of the truce, so Burke cannot be prosecuted for his participation in that action.” The queen paused. “But Markham seeks to turn my mind against your man on the desertion charge with this fresh evidence. I confess I am disposed to listen to a captain of my navy when his opposition is revealed to be a seditious scoundrel.”

Alex could not control her change of expression.

“Your horsemaster, Lady Selby, is a knave who threatened my throne with unlawful rebellion and impregnated a gentlewoman of good family outside the sanctity of marriage!”

Alex inhaled sharply.

“All of this, however, is apart from your own actions, Lady Selby, which were, and are, inexcusable. I see that I have no recourse in the matter.”

Elizabeth strode to the doors of her privy chamber and flung them wide. The guards standing outside snapped to attention.

“Lady Selby is to be confined to her room,” she said to them. “She is not to be permitted to leave it and is to receive no visitors without my express command. Take her.”

The guards lined up on either side of Alex. She was marched briskly down the corridor and through the warren of other halls leading to the quarters for the ladies-in-waiting. Courtiers froze in the middle of their conversations as the little procession passed. Alex could hear the buzz of their voices starting up again in her wake, animated, ravenous for gossip. As her door closed behind her she heard the guards bang their axes against the floor on either side of it.

She was under house arrest.

Alex sank onto her chair by the fire, in shock. It had happened so fast, and the queen’s order had been issued so dispassionately, that she hadn’t had time to absorb it.

She should not be surprised, after all; this was exactly how the queen had behaved under similar circumstances in the past. But Alex had counted on the bond of affection between them, counted on it to bridge an enormous gap and lead the old lady to understand a younger woman’s actions.

She’d made a dreadful mistake. In thinking only of saving Burke, she had brought doom on both of them.

Alex bowed her head and put her face in her hands.

With both his parents under guard, what would become of her little son?

* * * *

Several days passed, during which Alex jumped up and faced the door every time she heard footsteps in the corridor. When it swung open at long last, Lady Warwick appeared on the threshold and announced the queen.

Alex dropped into a curtsy, her pulses pounding, as Elizabeth swept into the room. Lady Warwick withdrew, and the door closed, leaving the two women alone.

“I have had a letter,” the queen announced, withdrawing a missive from her capacious sleeve.

Alex was afraid to move.

“Oh, get up,” the queen said.

Alex rose and waited.

“Madam,” the old lady said, “your husband is dead.”

 

Chapter 13

 

Who will not mercy unto others show,

How can he mercy ever hope to have?

—Edmund Spenser,
The Faerie Queene

 

“Burke?” Alex gasped, her
hand going to her throat.

“No, my lady,” the queen snapped, “your official husband, your husband in law. I trust you remember who he is. This letter, which I received just this day, is from the Netherlands. Lord Selby has died there of the sweating sickness.”

Alex tried to disguise the wave of relief that flowed over her, but the queen was not fooled.

“At least you have the good grace not to fall on your face and weep,” Elizabeth said. “You have no comment on the matter? Pray, what say you to this news?”

“Lord Selby was a good and kind man, kind to me, anyway,” Alex said quietly. “Beyond that I hardly knew him, as he was gone for most of our marriage.”

“He was a good servant to me, and that’s the very reason why I must punish
your
flagrant disregard of his person!” the queen bellowed, and stalked out of the room.

Alex fell back onto her chair, stunned. She looked up when Lady Warwick peeked around the doorway.

“Lady Howard sends greetings, try to be of good cheer,” she whispered.

Alex nodded miserably.

“I will do what I can to calm Her Majesty down,” Lady Warwick added, and then hurried away as they heard the queen calling her name from a distance.

* * * *

Another day passed before the door opened again, this time to admit Mary Howard.

Alex rushed to embrace her. “How did you get permission to see me?” she said, looking over Mary’s shoulder at the guards who were closing the door.

“I asked,” Mary said.

They waited a moment longer, listening for sounds outside the door, then settled onto two chairs pulled close together.

“What did you say to cause your confinement?”

“I told the queen about Burke and me.”

Mary closed her eyes.

“I know, you warned me. But there were no options left. Her whim might have favored me, as it has favored others in the past. I was desperate and had to try.”

“You might have said nothing and saved yourself,” Mary said.

“By speaking, I thought to save both of us.”

“She seems fixed on the insult to Lord Selby. She talks to me of defending his honor or some such notion,” Mary said.

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