Free The Other Countess by Eve Edwards Page B

pander, Henry. I like the girl. Leave her alone.’
    Henry took a place beside her. ‘What do innocents such as you know of panders, Janie?’ He lowered his voice. ‘Maybe not so innocent, eh?’
    She shivered. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
    ‘If you wish to retain the claim to ignorance, then I suggest you do as I ask. I would hate to have to send back any unfavourable remarks to Father about your conduct at court.’
    ‘Judas,’ murmured Jane.
    He took his knife from his belt and stabbed it in a manchet. ‘At your service, but you’re no Virgin Mary, are you, sister?’
    A fanfare of trumpets announced the approach of Elizabeth. Everyone in the hall rose to their feet.
    ‘God save Her Majesty!’ declared the herald before sweeping into the hall at the head of the procession, the ushers walking backwards before the Queen.
    Jane joined in the cheers. It was foolish to be jealous of the monarch – her position was unique – but Jane could not help but envy the Queen for that moment at the centre of everyone’s attention. Under no rule but that of God, Elizabeth kept the men dancing before her as she glided to her seat, her clothes an astonishing display of wealth and power – cloth of gold, ropes of pearls, a ruff of proportions beyond any other in the hall. The sovereign drew the eye like a jewel in a well-craftedsetting, striking both fear and awe in her subjects. Jane mused that if she could but learn her Queen’s secret for managing her unruly subjects, then maybe she would not have to fear her brother’s threats or the prospect of marriage to one of the empty-hearted men that courted her. She also would be too clever for them.
    But then Elizabeth had never married – since ascending to the throne, she had never submitted to any man. The Queen understood that a woman’s power lay in the courtship not the wedding and held off the threats to her person and realm by hinting but never committing. With a numb sense of hopelessness, Jane knew she could not use that behaviour for her pattern as she had no kingdom with which to bargain.
    The Queen took her place and nodded to her chaplain, who droned a long extravagant grace. When he finally finished, the Queen sat, and everyone else followed, a ripple starting with those nearest the centre of power, spreading out to the lowliest knight at the far end of the tables.
    ‘Ralegh’s done well for himself,’ observed Henry, signalling a server to bring him a cup of wine.
    Jane studied the placement at the top table and spotted him among the highest nobles near to the Queen, far above his station.
    ‘His star rises. That should benefit us,’ Henry continued, piling a spoonful of lamb stew on to his plate, his movements clumsy as he had to use his left hand.
    On the other side of the hall from where they sat, Sir Arthur and Lady Eleanor approached the Mountjoy household, skulking along the wall in the knowledge that it was poor manners to arrive after the Queen. The girl looked as if she’d rather beanywhere else but there and Jane couldn’t blame her. When Sir Arthur attempted to take his place at the end of the bench, Sir Charles Blount signalled his men to prevent him. The resulting whispered argument began to attract eyes to that obscure corner. Henry snorted his amusement as two of Blount’s retainers forced Sir Arthur to retreat, escorting him out of the hall with the application of their firm grip to his elbows. That left his daughter stranded. She made to follow her father but one of the girls at the table caught her hand and pulled her down beside her.
    Henry tore the meat off a drumstick. ‘Plenty of room over here,’ he said through his mouthful. ‘Send her a message, Janie. Invite her to join us.’
    ‘She is well enough where she is, Henry. Leave her alone.’
    ‘Not for long, she isn’t.’ Henry nodded his head to the two men who had returned from ejecting the alchemist. On a signal from Blount, they tapped the lady on the shoulder and