“What was that for?”
She stood over me, fists upraised, looking for all the world as if she’d like to fall on me and beat me senseless. No one else in the chamber moved.
When Dorothy didn’t answer, I pushed myself to my feet. “What is the matter with you?”
She called me a vile name.
My eyes widened in shock. “Dorothy, I do not understand why—”
“He doesn’t want me anymore,” she said in a harsh whisper. “He wants you.”
Although there was no question in my mind as to who “he” was, my first impulse was to tell her she was imagining things. Then I remembered the way Will had smiled at me, and the tender way he’d been teasing me only a short time before in the tiltyard.
“You set out to steal him from me. Do not trouble to deny it. I know it’s true.”
“When did I have an opportunity to set traps for your lover? He’s been in the north, far away from both of us.”
“You danced with him at Cowling Castle.”
“Oh, a great sin, that one! I am sorry if he lost interest in you, Dorothy, but it had nothing to do with me.”
“It had everything to do with you. He admitted as much to me before we left Whitehall, when I confronted him and demanded an explanation for his lack of warmth. He said he’ll never marry me, that when he is able to wed, he will take an innocent as his bride. Someone malleable. No doubt he thinks you will suit him very well!”
Before I could point out that Will Parr’s words did not prove he had anyone in mind, let alone me, Dorothy advanced on me again. This time she seized me by the shoulders, using both hands. Her nails bit into my skin, even through the thickness of gown and kirtle. She brought her face so close to mine that I could feel every word as a separate puff of air.
“Whore. Trollop!” She added a few other names I’d never heard before, although I had no doubt about their meaning. “You’re a fool, too, if you fall prey to his sweet promises. The king will never grant his petition. Never! There will be no second marriage by royal decree.”
Belatedly, Bridget decided it was time to intervene. The older woman cleared her throat. “If a man strikes another in a royal palace when the king is in residence, he can be sentenced to have his hand cut off. Do you suppose the punishment is the same for a woman?”
As abruptly as Dorothy had grabbed hold of me, she let go.
“It is true,” Bridget said. “And why should His Grace show you mercy, Mistress Bray, when he does not quail at executing his own wives?”
Face pale, eyes wide, Dorothy turned and fled. I stared after her, my mind awhirl. I’d have pitied her if I’d believed for a moment that she was suffering from a broken heart, but her behavior with Ned Brydges at Woodstock argued against that conclusion. It was thwarted ambition that made her so furious with me, not unrequited love. Ned had yet to attain a knighthood, while Will Parr was already Baron Parr of Kendal.
“What was all that about?” Kate demanded.
“Dorothy has taken leave of her senses.”
“She was talking about Lord Parr. And she is right. He does fancy you.”
“He may be attracted to my person,” I said, smoothing my hands over skirts that did not need any adjustment, “but if he thinks me malleable, he does not know me very well.” Did he think he could fashion me into the perfect, biddable mate? I was not a lump of clay to be molded. I looked up to find Bridget watching me. “You are not to say a word about this to Lady Lisle or to my mother,” I told her. “There is no truth to Dorothy Bray’s accusations. And even if there were, I would never be cozened by empty promises.” I would never, I told myself, make the same mistakes Dorothy had.
Bridget sent me a skeptical look, but agreed to keep silent. Soon after, she went out to run an errand for Lady Lisle, leaving me alone with my little sister.
“Will Parr wants you, Bess,” Kate said, “and I saw the way you watched him at the tiltyard.” She giggled.
“I was admiring his athletic prowess. I admired Jack and Harry, too. And . . . and I’ve kissed Harry.”
“Do you want to marry Harry Dudley?”
“I do not want to marry anyone. At least, not yet.”
“Harry is young and virile.” Kate lifted one hand, then the other, as if to imitate weighing relative merits on a scale. “But Lord Parr is wealthy. And pleasing to look at, even if he is old.”
“He is hardly ancient! And any woman with sense much prefers a man to a boy.” A wave of heat climbed into my face. Annoyed by my lack of control—it seemed to me that I blushed much too easily of late—I reminded both Kate and myself of the one thing that must stop me from encouraging Will Parr’s suit, even if I wanted to accept him. “He is married, Kate. So long as he already has a wife, he has nothing honorable to offer me.”
10
The good weather held after Mother and Kate left for home. The following day the entire royal household—or so it seemed—rode out into the open country between Greenwich and the smaller royal palace of Eltham to go hawking. This was one of the king’s favorite pastimes. The mews at Greenwich were located in the inner court, separated from His Grace’s bedchamber by only one room. He kept his falcons closer to him than he did the queen.
I rode my own horse, Prancer, and attended Lady Lisle, but I did not have a hunting bird on my glove. I was happy not to. Their beaks were sharp and their talons sharper.
Will Parr dropped back to ride beside me. He doffed his bonnet, a marvelous creation of dark green velvet with a white plume. “Mistress Brooke. You look especially fine this morning.”
“As do we all. My mother always says there is nothing like a brisk ride on a chilly day to put roses in one’s cheeks.”
“You far outshine every other damsel present.”
“If you grow too flowery in your speech, sir, I will not believe a word you say.”
“So practical for one so young.” Amusement shone in his expressive light brown eyes.
“You do well to note that quality in me. I am quite set in my ways. I have not a malleable bone in my body.”
Prancer shied away from Will’s mount at that moment, preventing me from seeing his reaction. I couldn’t tell if he remembered what he’d said to Dorothy. Had he made the remark at all? It would be just like my dear aunt to lie to me. If she couldn’t have Will for herself, she wouldn’t want anyone else to have him, either.
Will turned the subject to the newest fashion in sport—shooting ducks with a handgun in the marshes near Greenwich. He had accompanied the king on such an expedition a few days earlier. This topic sufficed until we began to follow a trail through a wooded copse.
When Will abruptly fell silent, I realized we had entered a small clearing and that, by chance or design, we’d become separated from the rest of the hunting party. Will put his hand on the pommel of Prancer’s saddle and brought both horses to a stop.
“I do not think I knew what love was until I met you, Bess.” He spoke in a quiet voice and his words were all the more potent for being so simple.
“You scarcely know me.”
“I know enough.”
Although my heart swelled with pleasure, I forced myself to answer in a cold and haughty tone. “More likely you are the sort of man who falls in and out of love at the drop of a hat.”
“Never!”
“It was not so long ago that you were eager as a lapdog for my aunt’s smallest favor.”
His lips tightened. I reminded myself that it would be best if he took me in dislike. He invaded my dreams far too often as it was, and I had begun to have difficulty putting thoughts of him out of my mind during waking hours.