Free Love's Labyrinth by Anne Kelleher

enthusiastically. The song went on and on, with Elizabeth herself joining in, her voice a surprisingly strong contralto, rich and sure. As the song ended, Olivia dared a peek at the sour old Puritan whose eyes seemed to bore through the flimsy fabric of her costume. She felt a hot flush creep up her neck, and she shifted her gaze to Dudley, burly and balding. He was sitting next to the Queen on the opposite side from the Puritan, watching Olivia with amiable interest. He winked and she automatically smiled back as all the voices faded into silence. She glanced at Nicholas, who had not moved. The Queen smiled and applauded enthusiastically, and the entire company followed suit. Olivia remembered that Elizabeth was known for her gracious reception of all the entertainments offered for her pleasure on her visits to her subjects, and she sank into another curtsy as the Queen spoke. “A pleasant, if melancholy, tune, maiden, but well sung.”
    Olivia rose, wondering how long she would be required to stay before the Queen, but Nicholas was there, stepping beside her, bowing with that same polished grace even as he said, “If Your Gracious Majesty will allow, Mistress Lindsley will retire. She is yet fatigued from the journey, and her sister is unwell.”
    Elizabeth smiled fleetingly and raised her hand in dismissal, her attention diverted by Leicester, who leaned upon her arm and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Olivia saw the Queen glance at the sober Puritan and laugh again, but the meaning of the byplay was lost, as Nicholas once more took her arm and escorted her from the pavilion.
    When they were safely out of earshot, he said gruffly, “Thank God you pleased Her Majesty well enough. Now stay out of sight, until either my brother or I come for you.”
    Olivia looked up at him in disbelief. She’d saved both of them with that performance, and he couldn’t even offer so much as a simple thank-you? She didn’t speak as he strode into the house, his long strides practically forcing her to scamper just to keep up. He marched her into the house and up the steps. At the door to the room he paused. “Remember, stay here and don’t leave this room.”
    Olivia raised her chin. “You forget, Lord Nicholas, that neither my friend nor I am any happier than you are that we find ourselves here.”
    Nicholas shook his head and looked over his shoulder, as though he feared someone listened. “My brother is a heedless fool who thinks only of his own interests. Give me your word you will not leave this room.”
    Olivia met his eyes fearlessly. “You have my word. There is no need to lock us in.”
    Nicholas hesitated, clearly torn. “Very well, mistress. I will trust your good sense not to risk your own lives.” He pushed the door open and waited for her to walk through. Without another word, he pulled it shut behind her, and she heard his footsteps echo down the stairs.

    Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief as he pounded down the stairs. His footsteps echoed in the silent hall. Thanks be to the God who’d made them all that the one woman, at least, had the presence of mind to understand his need. Which was more than that fool of a brother did. He’d known exactly what had happened the moment he’d seen the two women standing beside the maze, dressed in their bizarre clothing, Geoffrey beside them with a sheepish look all over his face. It was bad enough that Geoffrey and his eccentricities, as Nicholas preferred to name them, should ever put them in danger of the Tower or worse. Fortunately, with the execution of Queen Mary of Scotland, Elizabeth seemed to have lost her taste for punishing Papists. But nothing would save them from a charge of witchcraft—and Geoffrey would be hard pressed to explain how the two women had appeared if he were ever dragged into a court, ecclesiastical or otherwise.
    He ran a hand through his dark hair and tugged his doublet into place. Just a few more hours and the Queen and her