Free Conspiracy by Lady Grace Cavendish

looked softer, so I reached up to break a little bit off, when—
    Suddenly, Ellie gasped and let go. I lurched and my elbow knocked the top off the ragged staff and broke the bear's ear. A big lump fell to the ground, making the bear look as if he had been in a bear-baiting ring. I glimpsed Ellie lifting the tablecloth and rolling under the table, still stuffing dates into her mouth, which is when I realized someone was coming in.
    I was a bit stuck and it would be daft to jump down and run. So I took a deep breath, grabbed some of the leaves out of my belt, and carefully wrapped them round the bear's head where they would hide the damage.
    “My Lady Grace,” John said. “I'm glad to see your ankle is better.”
    “Er …” Oh, Hell's teeth, not John, I thought. I wobbled, looked down, and realized that the piece of bear's ear and the staff were on the floor right nextto the bench. Oh, no. What if he noticed? I wobbled again and he put up an arm to steady me. A thought struck me. If he was looking up at me, he wouldn't be looking down at the bit of bear on the floor.
    “Er, yes, a little,” I replied. “I have been excused dancing practice and Mrs. Champernowne said I should help, so I am just putting a victor's wreath on the bear here. Isn't he handsome? Such a fierce-looking bear. And I don't know who could have done the sugar-work. It's amazing, isn't it—especially as the Earl isn't married, is he … ?”
    I chattered away about how exciting it all was, and what was planned for the afternoon, and the dancing and so on, and I thought I sounded exactly like Lady Sarah at her very worst. In fact, I'm embarrassed to write it down. I was feeling more and more silly, so I thought I'd better come down from the bench, only I tripped on the edge of my kirtle and lurched against the table before John could stop me.
    I nearly knocked it over, subtlety and all, because the tables were only trestles and boards covered with a tablecloth. I caught a glimpse of Ellie making furious faces at me while she held it all together from underneath. John grabbed the bear and steadied both it and me.
    “Oops,” I said, and cringed at how foolish it sounded. “I am beyond belief clumsy this day. I had best come down, I think.” And with John holding my hand for me, I stepped down and shook out my petticoats, while Ellie's long skinny arm came out from under the tablecloth and grabbed the lump of bear's ear and the top of the ragged staff, and whisked them out of sight.
    “Have you any part to play this afternoon?” I asked, walking away from those dangerous tables and trying not to laugh. “I know not what the entertainment—”
    “There will be jousting,” John replied. “We're putting up the Tilting Yard barriers now.”
    I clapped my hands. “Wonderful!” I said. “I love to watch it. Will you be tilting?”
    John laughed. He does have a very nice friendly laugh. “No, my birth might be well enough, since I am a gentleman, but I have not the wealth for it, or the skill, either.”
    We were just going to the door when I spotted that Ellie was having trouble getting out under the stretched canvas. You could hardly see her, for the table was in the way, but I glimpsed her bum and a hand as she tried to find a loose place.
    “Urn … who will be jousting?” I asked, pausingand putting my hand on John's doublet to stop him, because I was afraid that if we came out, he might see Ellie just as she escaped. “My Lord Earl, of course, but who else?”
    “He has sent for all the tilting plate and the chargers to come up from London, so whoever of the Queen's gentlemen that likes him to try,” John replied. “And Prince Sven may do so also.” He was holding the tent flap open for me now, so I went out graciously and stood between him and where I thought Ellie might emerge.
    “Who do you think will win?” I asked him.
    “Well, my Lord Earl is one of the finest jousters in England. But Prince Sven has quite a reputation as