Betrayal in the Tudor Court. Darcey Bonnette

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СКАЧАТЬ watched the night unfold in frightened fascination. It had all been so magical at first—the golden hue of the lanterns playing off the masked ladies, the gauzy costumes that clung to their forms so rounded and splendid, capturing the very essence of spring and fertility, all those things that were woman.

      The food had been delicious. Cecily and Brey had stuffed themselves, then hid under the table afterwards to play with the pile of caterpillars they had collected throughout the evening and feed them crumbs. The children were hoping to build a house for them to keep in the nursery that they might watch the caterpillars’ transformation.

      Even Mirabella was having a good time. She danced, favouring the guests with her rare smile that was a transformation as stunning as that of the caterpillars, which Cecily and Brey anticipated with such eagerness. Her solemn, earnest face was made radiant with that smile, her eyes shone like emeralds, infecting Cecily with the need to laugh. She was thrilled to see her so happy.

      Then something went terribly wrong.

      The ladies unmasked, revealing Lady Grace to be the lead dancer. This in itself was a thrilling display and Cecily clapped at the sight. The countess was beautiful, as intoxicating as a faery with her white-blond hair falling around her shoulders in ringlets made limp from the dew of evening.

      When she took to Lord Hal’s side, the night that had begun as a fantasy faded into a horrific charade. Words were exchanged; Lady Grace pulled away. She strode toward the high table, seized a decanter of wine, and drank straight from it.

      This was not unusual to Cecily. She had seen Lady Grace do it many times. But she knew it was not something Lady Grace would ever do in public. It was forbidden. It was unseemly.

      Cecily and Brey had been searching out more caterpillars and heard the murmurs of the guests—unkind, snide remarks muttered with cackles of laughter.

      People liked to see such things, Cecily realised with a heavy heart. She could not imagine such a display bringing pleasure to anyone. Yet they laughed.

      “Why feign surprise?” one gentleman could be heard saying as Cecily and Brey returned to their spot beneath the table. “We know the woman cherishes her wine above all else.”

      Brey’s lip began to quiver.

      Cecily’s cheeks flushed in anger. How dare they criticise the hostess while they stand at her table and make pigs of themselves! They probably drink out of wine decanters all the time!

      “Don’t worry, Brey,” she told her companion, handing him the caterpillars that had been squirming in the lap of her dress. “We’ll show them.”

      Cecily poked her foot out from under the table as the man who had uttered the rude comment walked by, tripping him clean on his nose, withdrawing her foot before he could be the wiser.

      Blue eyes twinkling, Brey covered his mouth with his hand, and the two shared a conspiratorial giggle.

      But it provided little relief. Lady Grace’s breach of etiquette was only the beginning.

      From beneath the table Cecily witnessed Lady Grace as she began to twirl about the floor, decanter in hand. While other guests were acceptably tipsy as well, Cecily knew with heart-pounding certainty the countess’s antics were to be remembered. She had bypassed acceptable long ago. She was in a realm no one could reach. No one tried. They either derived amusement from it or were too shocked to move.

      Lady Grace twirled about. “Prepare to be stunned, Hal!” She was laughing as her wine spilled down the front of her white chiffon gown, staining it crimson, as though she were bleeding from the heart.

      She was wounded, Cecily knew. She longed to reach out but remained frozen, transfixed. From somewhere she heard Brey crying. She could not comfort him. She could only watch, helpless, hopeless.

      Lady Grace threw the decanter across the floor, then began to tear at her gown. “Stunning, Hal?” she cried as she shed the gown, revealing her white body shining with sweat. She stood there, naked, trembling, beautiful, and terrible.

      No one said a word. No one moved. Everything was happening as though underwater, slow, held back by forces too great to resist.

      Lady Grace stared at the guests, shocked sober. She collapsed to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest, covering her breasts, and burying her head in them. Her white shoulders heaved with sobs.

      The silence hurt Cecily’s ears.

      “For the love of God!” a man cried. The husky voice was instantly recognised as Father Alec’s as he rushed forward, seizing a cloak from another stunned gentleman’s shoulders and wrapping it about Lady Grace. He knelt beside her, murmuring softly. “Come now, my child. Let us remove to the house. Come now. You are all right. You are all right.” He all but lifted her to her feet, then turned to the guests. “You’ve taken in your fill,” he said, his voice laced with disgust. “Those of you staying with the Pierces this evening may retire. As for the rest, you best return to your homes. The lady of the house is unwell.”

      As Father Alec guided Lady Grace indoors, the world began to move again. Cecily was prompted into action. She reached out, taking Brey in her arms. “There, there, Brey,” she murmured against the golden hair. “She is just unwell. The heat …”

      “Her gown did not have sleeves!” he cried. “She could not have been hot!”

      “But she was dancing so much,” Cecily told him. “You know how hot one gets dancing. There, there, don’t cry. She is just tired. She will rest and feel much better tomorrow.”

      “They will laugh at her forever,” Brey returned, his eyes narrowing.

      Cecily bowed her head. They would. She could not say otherwise. Brey was not stupid.

      “Well, then they’re just dense if that’s all they have to laugh about,” she said. “I can think of things much funnier than that. Can’t you?”

      Brey furrowed his brow in thought. “I suppose so.” He leaned into her arms again. “Oh, Cecily, why is everyone so sad?”

      Cecily swallowed the burning lump in her throat.

      She did not know.

      Hal did not know who to seek out first. More than Grace, Father Alec had made fools of everyone with his show of chivalry, not that Hal wasn’t grateful for it. God knew he was too rooted in terror to be useful.

      As Grace was ushered indoors the crowd began to disperse, shaking their heads and murmuring. Grace had wanted to give them an unforgettable celebration, he thought bitterly. He and Grace would be lucky to be received anywhere after this. He could not imagine how to undo the damage done this night.

      He stood a long while, apologising to the guests as they departed. How he hated that! The pity that lit their eyes as they regarded him, the amusement that was barely hidden in others. May they all fall on the ends of their swords!

      His eyes searched the crowd for his children. Cecily and Brey were nowhere to be seen. He could only pray that they had missed the spectacle. As his eyes scanned the mass, he saw a shock of red organza.

      Mirabella.

       Oh, God. Mirabella.

      She СКАЧАТЬ