June Francis - MAIDEN in the Tudor Court

‘I do not believe you were ever crazy. Anyway, hopefully she will be sympathetic to one in your situation,’ said Alex, joining Rosamund by the fire.

‘I pray so. Do we admit to having met up north?’

‘Have you any other suggestions? I believe it is always best to stick as close to the truth as one can,’ said Alex.

‘I had believed my godmother dead until the day I met you,’ said Rosamund. ‘I think Father had mentioned that she was very ill some years ago. I believe he expected her to die.’ She sat down and smoothed out the kid gloves on her knee.

Alex’s gaze rested on Rosamund’s bent head. ‘I presume your plan that day was to tell your godmother of how you were being treated at home and of your suspicion concerning the death of your father?’

‘Aye.’ Rosamund sighed. ‘When you told me that she had already departed for London, it placed me in somewhat of a dilemma, as you well know.’

‘But if you were pretending to be Master Wood, how did you plan to gain entry to Lathom House and speak to Lady Elizabeth?’

She shrugged. ‘Does that matter now? I am more concerned about what I am to say to her when I see her.’

He nodded. ‘We will tell her that we met outside Lathom where you discovered that she had already left for London. I told you that I was acquainted with her ladyship and intended visiting her. You decided to travel to London, so I offered you my escort as we were travelling in the same direction.’

Rosamund shook her head. ‘It will not do. She will suspect that we travelled alone.’

‘Not if we can tell her that we had company on the road,’ said Alex firmly. ‘She is not to know otherwise.’

Rosamund plucked at her skirts. ‘It sounds feasible, but you have not said what your reason was for calling at Lathom House?’

Before Alex could answer, there was a sound behind them. They both turned to see a woman standing there. She was dressed in a plum-coloured gown and her red frizzy hair resembled a bird’s nest.

‘I cannot believe that at last we are to meet, Rosamund,’ she gasped with a hand to her chest.

Rosamund realised that this lady must be her godmother and could only hope she had not overheard their conversation. She rose to her feet and went to meet her. The lady seemed to glide across the floor towards her as if on wheels. Close up, Rosamund realised that the lady’s face was painted white that gave her features a mask-like appearance. ‘Lady Elizabeth?’

‘Who else, my dear?’ said the lady drily. ‘I know I have altered somewhat, but it is still me beneath this paint.’

A flushed Rosamund apologised. ‘I am delighted to see you again after all these years, Godmother.’ She dipped a curtsy and then took the hand offered to help her rise.

‘My appearance always gives people a shock, whether it be for the first time or after an age,’ said Lady Elizabeth.

‘You are very understanding and I thank you for your welcome. I would have visited you at Lathom House if I’d been able to do so. But it was not easy escaping my stepmother’s domination. By the time I did so, you had already left for London,’ said Rosamund.

‘That woman!’ snorted Lady Elizabeth, rolling her eyes expressively. ‘I am still angry that your father put her in my dear Jane’s place.’ She looked at Alex and her eyes softened. ‘Thank you for your missive, my dear Baron. You are so like your grandfather. If you will be so kind as to be patient whilst I talk with my goddaughter, I will give you my full attention in a moment.’

My dear Baron, thought Rosamund, puzzled by the title. She watched him remove his hat and incline his tawny head. ‘Of course, Lady Elizabeth. I understand what a pleasure it must be for you both to meet again after all these years.’

‘Charming,’ she said, touching his cheek with a finger before resuming her conversation with her goddaughter. ‘So that woman asserted her will over you.’

Rosamund pulled herself together. ‘You sound as if you know the kind of woman my stepmother is,’ she said.

Her godmother’s eyes widened. ‘My dear, your mother and I knew Monica McDonald when we were children. We all had kin living in the north.’ Lady Elizabeth sat down and waved them to a settle. ‘Jane refused to believe the rumours about Monica’s wanton behaviour because she always believed the best of people. Anyway, Monica stayed on at Appleby Manor after Jane miscarried, supposedly to nurse her.’ She sighed. ‘Well, we know what happened after that! Monica’s family was such a quarrelsome one and they were furious when she had an affair with her cousin’s husband. No doubt it was that which made it impossible for her to return home.’ She frowned. ‘The whole lot of them were unstable and I knew Monica McDonald for what she was—a greedy, conniving madam.’ She paused. ‘I have heard that her lover is a widower now, so who is to say that she might not run off with him.’ Lady Elizabeth grimaced and cracks appeared in the white paint and there was a peculiar smell.

Rosamund swallowed a cough and then hurried into speech. ‘Thank you for telling me this story. My stepmother’s background was always a mystery to me, for she seldom spoke of her family. Yet surely Father must have known something of my stepmother’s past, so why did he marry her?’

‘No doubt she tricked him into it. He was griefstricken and lonely and most likely found it convenient to have a new mother for you close at hand.’

‘She was no mother to me,’ said Rosamund, her eyes smouldering. ‘She told people I was mad and was going to have me locked up. She feared what I might tell them and that was why I had to escape.’

‘I am sure she has plenty to hide and was, no doubt, jealous of you, my dear,’ wheezed Lady Elizabeth. ‘You have grown into a lovely woman, so like my dear Jane. I look a fright and know it. But when you reach my age, having survived the smallpox, then one must be forgiven for painting over wrinkles and pockmarks.’

Rosamund felt both pity and admiration for her. ‘Father told me years ago that you were ill and expected to die. It was not until I heard my stepmother mention you that I realised you were still alive. I knew then that I had to see you.’

‘Well, I am glad you made the effort, my dear. My intention in trying to get in touch with you was so we could become better acquainted before it is too late.’ She patted Rosamund’s hand and then turned to Alex. ‘My dear Baron, I was so sorry to hear of the deaths of your grandparents. Your grandfather in particular was helpful to me on several occasions. I am delighted that we are to work together and you are to be part of my troupe. I do hope you will like the costumes for the dance. They are black-and-silver and there will be such carolling that it will surely gladden the hearts of the royal family and their Scottish guests.’

Rosamund wondered what they were talking about, but there was no mistake about him being a baron because her godmother had addressed him by that title again. Of course, it might be all of an act if he really was a spy. Whichever was the truth, it was obvious to her that here was an example of Master Nilsson’s duplicity. He had not been honest with her.

‘I presume there will be time for rehearsals?’ he was asking.

‘The members of my troupe will be here this afternoon,’ informed Lady Elizabeth. ‘If you are to take part, then I will partner you. But time enough to sort that out later and for you to learn…’ she paused to catch her breath and patted her bosom ‘…your steps…and see what gossip you can rake through for information. We will leave for Richmond in the morning—’ She broke off again, her chest heaving.

Rosamund gazed at her anxiously. ‘Are you all right?’