Free Lady in Waiting: A Novel by Susan Meissner

Surprised, no doubt, at Jane’s invitation. Jealous, perhaps.
    “Of course, my lady,” I replied.
    Jane’s smile was measured but immediate. She turned out of the doorway, and I followed her, leaving Alice to her ponderings.
    “Your gown is beautiful, my lady,” I said as I followed her down a long hallway that I had not to that point set foot on.
    “The Queen gave this one to me. It was her favorite.”
    We took a few steps in silence.
    “You were very brave today, my lady,” I said. “I can see how much you loved the Queen.”
    “She was like a mother to me.” Jane looked off down the carpeted corridor as we walked, but her gaze seemed unfocused. “More a mother to me than my own.”
    Jane stopped suddenly and swiveled to face me. Her dress rustled in protest. “I misspoke! I meant the Queen was very kind to me!”
    Jane’s eyes were bright with fear. My dealings with the marchioness had been few to that point, but it had been obvious, even to me, that she had lofty expectations for and of Jane that were unmet. Bridget told me that the marchioness had no patience with her eldest daughter, especially when Jane spoke her mind, and she did not hesitate to strike Jane if her anger was roused. Bridget also reminded me that this was of no concern to me. She must surely have thought that when Jane and I returned to Bradgate, there could likely be harsh words from the marchioness—or worse. And I was to mind my own business.
    Jane blinked back tears of dread. I could see she was already picturingme relaying to her mother what I had just heard her say. The thought appalled me.
    “You have nothing to fear from me, my lady. Nothing,” I assured her.
    She seemed to need a few moments to test her confidence that I would keep my word.
    “I misspoke,” she said again, flatly.
    “The Queen was indeed kind to you,” I said. “Surely you are only grieving her loss.” I held her gaze, intent on her knowing I was no spy for her mother.
    This satisfied her. We resumed our progress to the nursery.
    “My mother was one of the Queen’s attendants when the King was still alive,” Jane said, her voice contemplative. “She brought me to court with her. That’s when I met the Queen Katherine.”
    It still seemed absurd to me that a child should be at court, but I kept this to myself. “And how did my lady like being at court?” I said instead.
    She seemed to have heard a different question. “I was so happy when Mama chose to have me accompany her. My little sister Kate was so jealous. If I had known how difficult it was going to be to please Mama, I might have suggested she take Kate instead. You’ve no doubt dressed my little sister. You know what she is like. She would have loved it.”
    I had met young Katherine Grey. Even at nine, Kate loved being the apex of everyone’s attention. I nodded.
    We neared the nursery door, and Jane stopped as she placed her hand on the door to open it. “Mama didn’t bring me to court to have me near her. She brought me so that I would be noticed.”
    “By the admiral?”
    “By His Majesty. The King.” She turned from me and opened the door.
    Inside the spacious room, the woman I had seen in the staff dining room paced a Persian rug with a shining bundle in her arms. All aroundher was lace and silk and gold and velvet. The nursery had been prepared at great expense. The woman appeared puzzled that I was there. But she smiled at Jane, and her eyes shimmered with compassion.
    “My lady.”
    “Hello, Beatrice. Have you met Lucy Day? My mother sent her here for me from Bradgate.” Jane moved toward the woman and the babe in her arms.
    Beatrice nodded to me, but I detected she assumed I might be a copy of Nan Hargrave whom she clearly had no affection for. I could only guess it had something to do with Nan’s loose tongue, especially regarding the admiral.
    “How do you do?”
    “Very nice to meet you,” Beatrice said evenly. She turned to Jane. “Have you come to visit Miss