Anne made Alys a brief curtsey. “I can make myself known to you if Kit is going to be lax. I’m Anne Lacey. And who might you be?”
Kit watched Alys bridle. Having made the effort over the past few weeks to interpret every little nuance of her expression, he was certain he detected jealousy. Which gave him hope.
She assumed a more sympathetic expression. “Perhaps you are a little young to gossip with the more important members of the court,” she suggested. “Else you would certainly know of the deeds performed by me and Sir Christopher here. I am Mistress Alys Barchard, child. Your pardon—I merely came across out of curiosity, in case you were the one who made up those amusing myths about you and Sir Christopher.”
A strike up under Anne’s guard. Well done, Alys!
Anne pulled away from him and squared up to Alys, nostrils flaring. “You forget your manners very quickly, Mistress Barchard. I know not whence this rudeness comes.”
Alys glanced at Kit. He attempted to remove the smirk from his face—this sport was far more fun than archery.
She continued, “You give yourself too much importance if you think I would care to vent my spleen on you. You are clearly too young to arouse anyone’s ire. Go back to your mommets or your schoolbooks—I’m sure the queen will forgive you your behavior and ridiculous accusations, as you are too young to be taken seriously.”
Anne looked fit to burst. He had to move with lightning speed to catch her hand before it connected with Alys’ cheek. “Not here. Let us not charge our platters with more troubles—they are piled high enough already.”
“Quite so,” came a new voice. “I do so hate to see women brawling over a man, especially one so worthless as you, Kit Ludlow.”
He spun around in shock. “Your Majesty.” He bowed deeply, hoping he wasn’t flushing.
How could a woman loaded with so many chains and jewels move around so silently? “I apologize if our little scene distracts you from your sport.”
“Hardly a little scene, sir. You cannot conceal the great rancor between these two ladies. Now then, Ludlow, you have stubbornly refused to discuss your dealings with this child.” The queen waved a hand at Anne. “Is it not about time you and she both told me the truth? I believe Mistress Barchard should hear it, too.”
He looked at Alys, her lovely eyes wide, her satin skin pale. Elizabeth was right. It was about time he stopped being a gentleman and told them all about Anne Lacey. Besides which, he’d only just regained Elizabeth’s favor—it would be grim to lose it again so soon.
“We will go aside, to some privy chamber, and untangle this web you have woven. And mind,” the queen added, her eyes sparking, “I want no deception, no secrets. I will know all.”
She took his arm—a good sign, he hoped—and they made their way indoors to an ante-chamber where wine and honey cakes stood on a table. If this was to be a trial, at least the accused would eat well. Bess settled herself down, and her skirts were arranged around her by one of her maids, who was then dismissed.
“Be seated. I’ll speak to you each in turn—if you have aught to say, address each other through me. Now, to begin with you, Kit Ludlow. I ask you again—as I did numerous times last Eastertide—if you have ever encouraged the affections of Anne Lacey.”
He closed his eyes. Anne was a viper, a bubbling cauldron of spite, but she was also young and attractive, with the prospect of making a good marriage before her. If he condemned her in front of her sovereign, she might be banished from court, and he knew exactly how that felt. His tongue refused to produce the words.
Elizabeth tutted. “If you will not answer that question, then I will ask another. Have you ever sought the affections of Mistress Barchard?”
This was a far easier question. “You know the answer to that, Your Majesty,” he stated bluntly. “I have already spoken to you of how much I feel for her.”
He sought and caught Alys’ gaze, and hoped she’d see the truth in his face. Her cheeks were crimson, but she refused to meet his eyes. He prayed to all the gods it was a maidenly blush, not outrage. For having made his declaration, he was as vulnerable to her response as a newborn kitten.
Chapter Forty-Four
Alys’ heart thundered. Was his affection genuine, after all? Had he always cared for her, then? Not just pretended to do so, to lure her into his dance of deceit? He would surely not dare lie in front of his queen.
After the cruel words she’d flung at him recently, she was too ashamed to meet his eyes.
Instead, she glanced at Anne. The girl looked sour—did she realize her game was up?
Elizabeth tapped her fingers on the arms of her chair. “So, whatever has passed before, it is clear Ludlow does not love Anne Lacey. This, in and of itself, does not invalidate her claims.”
Alys drew in a breath. She must speak out, and pray the queen was not offended. “Oh, Your Majesty, I think he may have failed to refute her claims from a misguided sense of honor.”
He was looking at her keenly, but he rolled his eyes at “misguided”.
“Come now, Kit, Mistress Barchard is touchingly sure of you. Will you not please her and say sooth?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I want to please her, of course. But it sits not well with me to besmirch a lady’s character.”
“But you shall, sir, you shall, for I command it. And if it is, indeed, your concern for a lady’s honor that stills your tongue, forget both yours and hers. For whatever you say will travel no further than these four walls—you have the word of
