shocked that he would so lewdly approach a woman in her condition. She prayed that Elizabeth would not choose him for a husband. She smiled. The young Queen was sharper and a great deal wiser than those around her gave her credit for. If only love would not cloud her judgment.
The pile of gold coins before her grew higher, and then de Grenville was leaning over her asking, “May I escort you in to supper, Skye?” Her anger cooled, Skye gave him a bright smile and stuffed her winnings into the little silk pouch that hung from her waist. She excused herself from the card table, to the relief of the other players. “Aye, Dickon, I am famished!” she said. “Where is Southwood?”
“With the Queen. I’ve news of Robbie.”
“Oh, Dickon, tell me! Is he all right?”
“A small merchant fleet that’s just put into London hailed him on the Indian Ocean side of Cape Horn. His entire fleet was intact-and so was Robbie. I’ve letters for you which I’ll bring around tomorrow.”
They had reached the dining room. Courtiers in full, colorful finery were milling about, chatting and helping themselves from the vast buffet. “I shall eat nothing but Colchester oysters,” announced Skye, piling her plate high.
“The outrageous vagaries of breeding women,” teased de Grenville. “I don’t know how on earth you would know about that, Dickon,” Skye teased in return. “The moment your wife shows sign of being with child, you banish the poor woman to Devon.” “For her own good, Skye. And of course, the child’s health as well,” he responded piously.
“Nonsense! It’s so you can wench in the best brothels in London without suffering a guilty conscience.” Skye laughed, speared an oyster, and swallowed it whole.
De Grenville reddened. “You’re too forward for a woman,” he muttered, “and far too beautiful for a lady about to give birth.” “And if I weren’t pregnant would you be trying to make love to me, Dickon?”
‘Tor God’s sake, Skye!” protested de Grenville.
“Just asking, Dickon. You see, I love Geoffrey. I would like to have you for a friend, as would my husband. It would distress me to have to be constantly fending you off. Beauty does not necessarily mean a loose moral character. Did you know that?” “Any man attempting to toy with Geoffrey Southwood’s wife would be suicidal,” muttered de Grenville. “For my health’s sake, Skye, I think of you as I do my own dear sisters.” Skye patted his arm in a kindly fashion. “I am very relieved to hear that, Dickon,” she twinkled up at him.
“Whore!” The outraged shout accompanied by a sharp crack brought instant silence to the room. Skye and de Grenville turned, startled, in the direction of the uproar. Everyone was staring toward a corner of the room where Lionel, Lord Basingstoke, stood towering over a beautiful golden-haired woman who cowered on her knees, clutching her bruised cheek. The nobleman was in a high rage, his face as red as his velvet doublet. The veins on his neck bulged and his pale eyes glittered with fury. Raising his hand he struck the woman again and repeated, “Whore!”
Several gentlemen dashed forward and restrained the apoplectic man. “My God!” someone hissed. “That’s Lady Burke, the Irishman’s wife.” The woman was weeping softly.
“Christ’s blood, Lady Southwood!” cried Lord Basingstoke, “Don’t touch her! She is foulness beyond measure! No decent woman should even speak her name.”
“Fie, my lord!” Skye’s voice rang out. “You abuse a lady, and you dare do it in the Queen’s presence!”
“That she dares to show herself to the Queen is an outrage in itself!” shouted Basingstoke. “The most evil of whores in the presence of the most innocent and virtuous of women!”
“You make a great deal of noise, my lord,” said Skye wearily.
“I’ve yet to hear what causes your outrage.”
“And I should be interested too, sir.” Niall Burke pushed his way forward. Pulling one of his gloves from his doublet, he struck Lord Basingstoke across the cheek. “You are challenged, my lord. Where? And when?”
“No. Irishman. She’s not worm it. I’ll not have your death on my conscience, nor will I be killed for such as she! God Almighty, man! Can you really be so blind? Constanza has been my mistress for months. Yes, she’s been cuckolding you, but far worse, she’s been cuckolding me also. And not with just one man, but with
“I have proof, ma’am, but I should not like to present it publicly.” “Sir! You saw fit to begin this affair publicly, so that is how we will air it. Speak or else tender your apologies to Lord Burke without delay.”
“Madam, as you will.” Basingstoke sighed, and then began. “Several months ago I made Lady Burke my mistress. After a time I gave her as a token of my affection and admiration a rare book of… of pictures. Pictures of… a h… lovemaking.” A snicker ran through the crowd but was silenced by the Queen’s quick frown. Basingstoke continued, “I soon began to hear stories of a new attraction at Madame Claro’s, a woman they called the Book Lady, and several weeks ago I heard of a contest to be held at Claro’s. It was to be a battle between Claro herself and the Book Lady, a contest… forgive me, Majesty, for my bluntness, over who could fuck the most men within a day-and-night period. The wagering was great, and as there was to be no charge for entry to Claro’s that day I went with friends to observe the fun. My God, ma’am! The men were coming and going out of the women’s rooms so quickly it would make your head spin! A tally was called as each man left. Observers were permitted, for a gold piece, to stand at the doors of each bedchamber. I decided to watch. Imagine my shock in discovering that the infamous Book Lady was my own mistress!” “And just how did you discover it, Lord Basingstoke?” demanded the Queen. She had no choice but to hear the whole story. “Constanza has an unusual identifying mark. Also, my book was open on a bookstand next to the bed. I have been promised that there are no two in existence.”
Elizabeth Tudor pursed her lips thoughtfully. This was the worse scandal to occur at her Court since she had become Queen. “I want the men who have visited the Book Lady to step forward,” she said. “Come, gentlemen! I’ll wager you weren’t so shy with the whores at Claro’s!” And Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the number of men who finally stepped forward. “Bless my soul, sirs, I thought you were kept well busy chasing my maids of honor,” she remarked sourly to the large group of shamefaced courtiers. Choosing ten, she dismissed the rest. “Have you all seen the lady’s birthmark?” They nodded solemnly. “Very well then, gentlemen. Each of you is to step up to Lord Burke, and whisper to him the description of that mark.”
Niall Burke stood rocklike, his face an icy and impenetrable mask as, one by one, the ten embarrassed men moved up, whispered, and then slipped away, disappearing into the crowd as quickly as they could.
“You also, Basingstoke,” commanded the Queen. When Constanza’s accuser had finally stepped back Elizabeth asked, “Very well, Lord Burke, do these men speak the truth?” “Aye, madam, they do, to my everlasting shame.” Constanza had revived and, cradled in Skye’s arms, moaned as if in terrible pain. Niall sent her a bitter yet pitying look. “Do you wish to withdraw your challenge, Lord Burke?” asked the Queen in a softer tone than she had used during the awful interrogation.
“No, madam. Lord Basingstoke, for all his fine outrage, is nevertheless responsible for being the first to debauch my wife and bring dishonor upon my name. I will not withdraw my challenge.” “Very well, sir, we will settle this matter here and now. Lord Dudley, will you see to it? The ballroom will do. See to the seconds.” “I will act as Lord Burke’s second,” Geoffrey Southwood stepped forward.
Skye gave a little cry of distress and the Queen reached over and patted her. “No danger, my dearest Skye, I promise. Sirs, this
Lord Dudley chose a reluctant second for Basingstoke from among the men who had admitted to visiting the Book Lady. “Birds of a feather,” he quipped, receiving contemptuous looks in return for his humor. The others knew that he had been a visitor to the lady involved, but had not dared admit it before the Queen. The paneled ballroom was quickly cleared of chairs and tables, and the musicians in the gallery above were dismissed. Skye helped
