Mistress to the Crown. Isolde Martyn

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СКАЧАТЬ There was this cherrylips came into the shop last week when ah was serving on my own. Tricked out in finery she was like a real lady. She swished abaht in her furs and trinkets, and when she’d made her choice, she offered to pay for t’cloth by spreadin’ her legs. Ah said, yes, but she’d better be quick. Anyroad, ah locked the door and led her to t’stairs so as no one could see us from the street. She bared her breasts and eased her skirts slowly above her thigh. Had me in a raight sweat …’

      Please Heaven, it never rose, I prayed, imagining my argument for a divorce evaporating with Shore’s resurrection. ‘Did you …’

      ‘No, No, damn it, ah could not manage it, even with her! Christ!’ He smote so hard upon the board that the inkpot jumped and then he grabbed the alejack and hurled it furiously at the wall. I stared open mouthed at the liquid, pale as urine, trickling down the whitewash.

      He was breathing hard, staring at me like a cornered beast. I feared he might strike me. His mouth arced into an ugly loop of pain and tight slits of skin swallowed his eyes. ‘O Jesu, Jesu, Jesu!’ He sank to his knees, cradling his ribs and began an anguished keening.

      I flung myself on my knees and drew him to me. ‘There, there!’ I soothed, stifling his howls against my bosom. I rocked him until the shudders ceased.

      ‘Ah’m so sorry, Elizabeth,’ he sobbed. ‘All these years. Ah’m so sorry.’ He tried to pull away but I held him fast.

      ‘There is more to a man than his prick, William Shore. The whole world knows that. You should not judge yourself so cruelly.’

      ‘But ah’m no true man. I am cursed by God.’

      ‘Then we both are, William.’

      Still reeling from Hastings’ betrayal, I needed a few moments to grasp the implications of Shore’s confession. He was no longer blaming me for not giving him a child. I was unsaddled at last. No more guilt to carry like a weary packhorse.

      ‘There is something I should tell you,’ I said, holding by his sleeves so he could not pull away. ‘I went with another man.’ His reaction was a fierce start to free himself but I held on. ‘So, you see, you must forgive me also. Two weeks ago for the first time. Just once. I wanted to know what it was like.’

      ‘An’ what was it like?’

      ‘It was satisfactory. There was no commitment.’

      ‘Yer tuphead,’ he snarled. ‘Dinna you make sure he was … clean?’

      My heart lurched. Whore’s pox as well as a broken heart? By Heaven, I hoped not.

      ‘Can you forgive me, William?’

      His face was as chill as a Derby winter. ‘Does it matter if ah can’t?’

       VII

      ‘You ignored my messengers.’ Hastings came striding up into my solar. It was the first time he had visited upstairs. He sounded peevish, great lord peevish. Not a surprise; I had ignored three notes and two nosegays. Shore followed him in, mumbling about broadcloth.

      ‘Broadcloth, be damned!’ The Lord Chamberlain neatly slammed the door in my husband’s face. Then he opened it again. ‘Oh, Hell take it! Forgive the discourtesy, Shore. I thank you for your offer of assistance but pray don’t let me detain you. My steward will deal with the order.’ He waited until my stunned husband was downstairs before he dropped the latch. ‘Well?’

      ‘My lord.’ I rose from my curtsy, smoothed my skirts and looked up at him with my best businesslike face. ‘There was intervention.’

      The frost melted slightly. He folded his arms and his elegant black sleeves flashed their amber taffeta linings.

      ‘Him?’ A condescending jerk of head towards the door

      ‘No, my lord, your friend, the one who charged in on us.’

      ‘That friend! I see. My abrupt departure annoyed you!’ He tossed his hat onto the small table and surprisingly donned the manner of sackcloth and ashes. ‘Well, I cannot blame you and I do apologise, but the Breton diplomats were anxious to sign the treaty and get back to Duke Francis.’

      ‘Your pardon, I did not understand that at the time.’ I poured him out some wine in a forgiving fashion.

      He grinned sheepishly at me across the rim of our best goblet. ‘Just as well “my friend” interrupted, my luscious Elizabeth. I do not think I could have managed a fourth coupling.’ At least he had remembered the other three. ‘Anyway, I ask you to excuse my friend’s churlish manners. Sometimes he needs a boot on his arse.’

      ‘Do you bow, my lord, before you kick him?’

      My question caused a little silence. He chewed his cheeks before he answered.

      ‘Ah. Clever of you to realise.’

      ‘I didn’t, my lord. Until I had a command from you to meet me at Gerrard’s Hall. Except you did not arrive, he did.’

      Although Hastings seemed to be considering the revelation, I wondered if he had already known. ‘I see,’ he murmured with the cool worldliness that was still so alien to me, ‘and I daresay my “friend” usurped my favour with you.’

      Such a conclusion mightily annoyed me. The bed-swapping habits of the palace might be commonplace to him but they were unacceptable to me.

      ‘He did not usurp anything, my lord, save two little oatcakes. I declined his request.’

      Hastings’ beautiful eyes widened and emotion returned to his face, even if it was merely surprise. ‘Is my hearing amiss, Elizabeth? You said “no” to the King?’

      ‘Of course,’ I exclaimed passionately. ‘I do have some honour.’ Did he think of me only as fresh city meat? ‘I assure you I am no whore to be prancing in and out of gentlemen’s beds.’

      ‘Just so.’ His mouth was a grave slash now. Oh, such a diplomat, shifting position to accommodate my vehemence. A token flurry of jealousy would have been more acceptable. ‘Was that your only reason, Elizabeth?’

      ‘I felt some loyalty to you, my lord.’ Some – my fledgling attempt at Westminster nonchalance. ‘Please do not mistake me,’ I added swiftly to reassure him that I was not infatuated. ‘I certainly do not seek to put any obligation on you. We had an agreement – just you and I.’

      ‘Elizabeth, I hope you are not thinking that I put his grace up to this?’

      ‘No, of course not,’ I lied, resolving to sieve my feelings later. ‘He—’ I cleared my throat. ‘His highness explained you were at Ashleigh.’

      ‘Ashby,’ he corrected. ‘My castle at Ashby-de-la-Zouch.’ His hand rose in a flourish as to how I should find it. ‘West of Leicester.’

      ‘Oh, west,’ I echoed dryly.

      ‘We were celebrating my stepdaughter’s name day. I bought the jewelled girdle for her, remember?’

      ‘Yes.’ I was СКАЧАТЬ