The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [19]
I was dismissed. As I stepped back, Elizabeth’s other attendant moved past me, pulling back her own hood. I stared at her. She was lovely and young, her vivacious features complimented by a knowing gleam in her large eyes. She gave me a quick smile and I averted my gaze, stung by what I saw as her delight in my humiliation.
When I looked about, I noticed that Walsingham had slipped away. Cecil bowed before Elizabeth. “Master Walsingham asked me to offer his apologies; he had business to attend to. By your leave, I’ll see Urian to his kennel.” He kissed her extended hand, started to turn away.
“Cecil,” she said, and he paused. “I must do this, for Edward. I cannot let them think that I’ll cower in my house and wait for their summons.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I know. I only hope you’ll come to no harm because of it.” He walked away, the hound at his side.
I watched Elizabeth turn toward the hall entrance. Her women flanked her; she suddenly looked small, vulnerable, even as she lifted her chin with regal poise to descend the steps. When she entered that crowded space, the music in the gallery sputtered, twanging discordantly before it ceased. Silence fell, so profound I could hear her footsteps on the painted wood floor. I inched forward, slipping past the shadows by the doors, blending into the crowd to watch as the duke strode to her through bowing courtiers.
“My lord of Northumberland, this is an honor,” said Elizabeth. She held out her hand. The duke bowed, his bearded lips lingering on her fingers even as his eyes lifted to hers.
“The honor is mine, Your Grace. I welcome you to court.”
“Do you?” She smiled with dazzling candor. “I confess I’d begun to think you would deny me the pleasure of this court indefinitely. How long has it been since my sister Mary came to visit? Four months? Five? Yet not one invitation did you extend to me in all that time.”
“Ah, you see I waited for an opportune time.” The duke righted himself, standing a head taller than her. “As you are aware, His Majesty has been ill.”
“Yes. I am aware. I trust Edward is on his way to a full recovery?”
“Indeed, and he has asked for you several times. Did you not get his letters?”
“I did, yes. I … I am relieved.” I saw her soften; she even managed to toss her head with a touch of flirtatiousness as she set her hand on the duke’s arm and allowed him to guide her into the hall. Amid the incandescent flames and sheen of mirrors, the colored satins, and extravagant jewels, as courtiers sank into obeisance like overdressed heaps, she stood out like alabaster. A chill slithered up my spine. It was as if I were seeing everything for the first time, my senses attuned to this forest of treachery and deceit, populated by well-fed predators who circled the princess much as wolves circle their prey.
I had to remind myself that my antiquated notions of chivalry, nurtured on childhood tales of knights of lore, were getting the best of me. Delicate in appearance as she may be, Elizabeth Tudor was not a helpless fawn. She’d been breathing this venomous air from the very hour of her birth. If anyone knew how to survive at court, it was she. Instead of worrying about her, I’d do better to focus on my own troubles. I had yet to deliver the ring, and Robert had made it clear what I could expect if I failed. I saw others like me in the hall, liveried shadows behind their masters, carrying goblet and napkin. Perhaps I too could become invisible, until I found the opportunity to approach her again.
I searched the crowd. Elizabeth drifted in and out of my vision, pausing to tap a shoulder here, offer a smile there. When she reached an enormous hearth near the dais, she paused. Sitting on upholstered chairs were persons of obvious importance. All rose to offer obeisance. I thought