Whether she liked it or not.
Chapter Forty-One
When the supper things had been cleared away, a ripple of anticipation passed through the diners. But for Alys, it was a tide of apprehension—these people knew how to behave before the queen. She did not.
As Elizabeth and her maids-of-honor came through from her private parlor to listen to the minstrels and watch the dancing, Alys stared in wonderment at her monarch. Despite her advancing years, Elizabeth had a regal bearing that eclipsed everyone else in the room. None was dressed as elaborately as she, nor boasted the same fiery red hair—though this was suspected by many of being a wig. She had chosen to wear a black gown tonight, surmounted by a huge winged collar. Her dress was trimmed with clear rock crystal, while heavily-jeweled gold rings drew attention to her long, slender fingers.
Everyone bowed and curtseyed deeply when she entered the room. Alys copied them, hardly daring to look up, so was shocked to find a servant summoning her. Seconds later, she was next to Kit, trembling by Elizabeth’s feet and doing her utmost to hide her fear.
While Kit made the formal presentation, she noticed how fondly the queen looked at him.
Then Bess turned her shrewd grey eyes on Alys. “You have done us a great service, Mistress Barchard. Though justice has not yet been served upon your cousin, I have no doubt she is guilty as charged. Fear not that I hold you in any way to blame for her folly, or that of her friends. From what Sir Christopher has told me of you, you are both honest and sensible—if only there were more in my circle who could boast such attributes. So that everyone may know you have my favor, I give you this to wear.”
She drew a gold and garnet ring from her finger, and pressed it into Alys’ shaking hand, waving away her stammered gratitude. “I would have some dancing.”
At the clap of her hands, several gentlemen appeared and bowed before her, but she shooed them away. “Nay, I shall watch for the moment. But it would please me to see Sir Christopher and Mistress Barchard tread a measure together.”
So, this was what it felt like to be an animal trapped at bay. Alys had no choice but to accept Kit’s hand, even though his touch was a bolt of lightning, searing her flesh. The blood rose in her cheeks, and she prayed the many eyes upon her, including those of the sovereign, had not seen her reaction to him.
Not daring to look at him, lest he see the awareness in her eyes, she said, “You will find me a very poor partner, sir. I have rarely had the opportunity to dance. Mayhap the queen would understand if you sought another partner.”
He gazed at her, then called loudly to the gallery, “Minstrels! We would begin with a pavane. With your permission,” he added, bowing deeply to the queen. To Alys, he whispered, “This is a sedate and slow dance. Follow what I do and keep an eye on the other couples. It’s hard to make a mistake if you follow the tune.”
Alys’ breathing settled a little as Kit taught her the steps. But only a little. His presence affected her deeply, a queer mixture of pleasure and distress. Yet, to her amazement, she survived the dance without shaming herself—he was a good teacher, and they moved well together. But when the measure came to an end, Kit leaned close. Afraid he was about to whisper something that would upset the balance in favor of distress, she sprang away and crashed into another dancer behind her. Flushing fiercely, she hurried away to find a dark corner.
But there was to be no respite. Many other gentlemen were eager to make her acquaintance, so she was never in want of a partner. Her most determined admirer was Hubert Norris, an affable fellow who smiled often, his excellent teeth brilliant in contrast to his sun-browned complexion. He introduced himself with undisguised flattery.
“Greetings, oh brave and beautiful lady! A heroine, i’faith—I am honored to make your acquaintance. I cannot say I have ever met a heroine before. Although your cousin, too, might be considered one. Only in her case, her courage was misplaced.”
This was so close to what Alys had been thinking herself, she beamed at him. “Aye. I am certain Kate would not have turned traitor without good reason. I’m confident there must have been some coercion.”
His grin faded, and he brought his face close to hers. “We must keep our voices down. You can’t speak sympathetically of a traitor in the present company, not even if they’re your own kin. Some are so intractable in their views, not even that ring from the queen will protect you.”
Did he mean Walsingham? Or even Kit? She scanned the room to see where he was and caught him staring at her with a look of fierce annoyance. She stared back, raising a challenging eyebrow. If she wanted to talk to someone who echoed her feelings about Kate, it was none of his business.
Norris took her arm, steering her further away from the throng of courtiers. “It must be a hardship to come up from the countryside with no friend or relation to support you. I gather Mistress Aspinall was all you had in the way of kin?”
“Indeed, she was. Although I have to say it, I never much cared for her.”
“Not everyone is easy to like. Why, I am certain half the people at court take the others in great dislike. This is not an easy place to survive, given the politicking that goes on here. But I shall be glad to render my services to you and to advise you, should you need a friend.”
“I’m most grateful.” She paused. Kit’s scowl had, if anything, intensified. He certainly didn’t look like
