Free The Boleyn Reckoning by Laura Andersen Page B

and it confirmed Minuette’s suspicions that Eleanor wanted something from her. Her heart beat faster and she knew she was about to embark on something very dangerous indeed. Making an alliance with Eleanor was like trusting a dragon not to eat a kitten.
    “You may wait outside, Walsingham.” She spoke with all the casual authority she could summon. “I believe Mistress Percy and I have private matters to discuss.”
    Eleanor’s eyes flicked over her. “Do we indeed? This should be … intriguing.”
    Clearly reluctant, but with no orders from Elizabeth to do otherwise, Walsingham stepped outside the door, where no doubt he would wait patiently and try to overhear. When they were alone, Eleanor swept an exaggerated gesture of welcome that took in the curved walls of her prison. They were whitewashed, at least, but the floor was bare wood and there was only a bed, a chest, and a table and chairs in the space. “Won’t you make yourself comfortable, Mistress Wyatt? Though I hear you are quite extravagantly provided for at court these days.”
    Her tone conjured up the very image of Minuette’s current chambers: from the tapestries of Artemis and Apollo to the deep-dyed blue hangings of her bed. Eleanor had once known that chamber—and that bed—well. Minuette repressed a shiver (“someone walking on your grave” Carrie would have said) at how small a distance it was from palace suites to Tower cells.
    “I’m quite comfortable standing,” she answered firmly. “And I don’t believe I shall be touching anything you offer me.”
    If Eleanor had a good quality, it was her directness. She shrugged and said, “The monkshood? You are right to be wary, as I believe I warned you the very day you were struck down. If only you had listened to me.”
    “If only you had not tried to poison me.” Minuette was finding it far too satisfying to speak openly. She must remember to guard her tongue lest she tell Eleanor more than she wanted her to know.
    “Are you so certain it was me?”
    “Not working alone, but then you did warn me about powerful men as well. I thought you’d meant Northumberland, but now …” Minuette eyed her thoughtfully. “What do you want from me?”
    “I want what I always want—the ear of the king. It seems you are the only certain means of ensuring William’s attention these days. He listened to you in the matter of our daughter’s guardianship. I won’t thank you for that, because you would not believe me, but I am forced to admit that you are useful.”
    “I did it for Jonathan’s sake, and the child’s. I would never want William to turn away from his own daughter.”
    “No matter how much you despise her mother?” Eleanor murmured. “Did you know that the king had only one condition before allowing my brother to take her? William insisted that her name be changed.”
    Startled, Minuette asked, “Why?”
    With another shrug, Eleanor said, “No doubt, after he gets sons on you, he plans to have at least one legitimate daughter. I imagine he wishes to save the royal names for such an event. He told Jonathan he did not want the girl called Anne any longer. Perhaps he thinks it an insult to his mother, though I wager Anne Boleyn would have understood me well enough.”
    “So the poor girl is simply going to be called something else? Will that not confuse her?”
    “She is only two years old. I have decided on Nora, so that whenever William speaks his daughter’s name he will have cause to remember her mother. It is a small price to pay for the king’s favour.”
    It disturbed Minuette deeply, the thought of the little girl being passed around and renamed like a dog or a horse. Had William given any thought to Anne—Nora—beyond providing her an allowance?
    Forehead creased, Eleanor asked, “It truly bothers you, doesn’t it? I don’t understand why. You have got what you wanted … for now. But I do not think you will hold it long.”
    “Why shouldn’t I?” Minuette