Betrayal in the Tudor Court. Darcey Bonnette

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СКАЧАТЬ at his bread with fumbling fingers. Mirabella did not eat but sat, staring at the table before her without seeing it. Cecily, her eyes swollen and red from sobbing the night through, her lips puffy and nose chapped, held her piece of cheese without eating it.

      “There is nothing left now,” Lady Grace said, breaking the suffocating silence with her low voice as she stared into her empty cup.

      “More wine?” a servant asked.

      Lady Grace scowled, waving the servant away. She shook her head, pushing her cup away from her. It fell on its side with a clatter, causing Cecily to start and Mirabella to avert her head.

      “Nothing!” Lady Grace screamed.

      “My lady—” Father Alec began.

      “No!” Cecily clenched her fists, rising. “You still have your daughter. You cannot forget her!”

      Lady Grace fixed Mirabella with a hard glare. Then, to everyone’s horror, she began to laugh. She rose. “I have no daughter.” She smiled. “As I said. I have nothing.”

      “Grace!” Lord Hal seized her wrist. Lady Grace withdrew it.

      Mirabella stared at Lady Grace, her mouth agape, her eyes filled with tears. “You cannot mean it, my lady. For all that has been, I am always your daughter. Please … take comfort in me.”

      Lady Grace shook her head, her disconcerting laughter low in her throat. “You are not mine. You have never been mine. You belong to your father, that much is so. But I am not your mother.”

      “Stop!” Lord Hal commanded.

      But it was too late. The words were out.

      Lady Grace tipped back her head and laughed. The grating, joyless sound pierced Father Alec’s ears. “Ask your father about her. Who was she, Hal? Ah, yes. Julia was her name. The daughter of his father’s treasurer. The jewel of his family, his gift to the Church. Sister Julia. So holy. So pure. So irresistible to the lusts of a hot-blooded nobleman.”

      “For God’s sake, Grace!” Lord Hal screamed.

      Mirabella quit the table, Lord Hal chasing after her.

      Cecily sat, stunned and trembling.

      Lady Grace’s face went slack. She held out her cup. Wordlessly, a servant filled it.

      Father Alec shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the scene. At last he sighed. “Perhaps, since you found it appropriate to favour the young ones with this knowledge now, you would like to explain further to Lady Cecily,” he said at last.

      Lady Grace regarded the startled girl before her, her heart clenching in agony. What had she done? All that she was capable of doing, it seemed. Wreaking havoc, destroying lives. But she did nothing that had not been done to her! Was she not destroyed, irreversibly destroyed, years ago? Since then she had slowly degenerated into despair.

      And now she was required to explain.

      “You were never to know,” Hal told Mirabella, who lay face-down on her bed, sobbing, her shoulders quaking as he sat beside her to rub her back. “It had been agreed to long ago, to save us all. To save you. And your mother.”

      “Which one?” Mirabella seethed as she sat up, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, the gaze she fixed upon her father accusatory.

      Hal bowed his head, his heart sinking. “Both, I suppose.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “Julia was the daughter of my father’s treasurer, it is true. She was set to enter the convent; it was her calling, like you. I was newly married to Grace then, a woman I had not set eyes on till my wedding day. Julia Grayson had been a childhood companion and it so happened that she grew into a beautiful woman—”

      “This talk is vile,” Mirabella spat, her voice thick with horror.

      “Yes, Mirabella, it is vile. It is shameful and all that is bad. But you must know,” said Hal. “I cannot undo what has been done. Now that you know the truth some sense of it must be made.”

      Mirabella was silent.

      Hal continued. “I was drunk when it happened. Had been out with the lads. My memory of the actual night is so hazy … suddenly all I knew is that I was with her. It was one time only.”

      “You … violated her?” Mirabella’s voice was low as the realisation settled upon her. She shook her head. “Only one time? As if it would make a difference if it were one time or a hundred for what you stole from her! One time. That is all it took? One time?” She clicked her tongue in incredulous disgust.

      Hal nodded, his face wrought with shame. “My father told me from my earliest childhood days till manhood to rise above my peers, to hold myself to a higher standard: God’s standard. He said that women were creatures of God to be protected and cherished, never misused as many men are wont to do, and that few sins were as selfish and wicked as adultery. I failed my father; I fell short of everything he taught me. I failed God. And in that failing my guilt has plagued me; no self-imposed torture is enough to expiate it. I have repented for that ‘one time’ ever since. I have begged God for a forgiveness I am not worthy of, but, Mirabella, you must know how sorry I am for taking that woman’s innocence. I have worn a hair shirt since that day. I—”

      “It does not matter,” Mirabella said, shaking her head. “You took what was not yours, a gift that was saved for God alone, and you broke your marriage vows to do it.”

      Hal bowed his head, tears trailing slow, even paths down his cheeks. “Yes. I deserve all of your hatred.”

      “You have it,” Mirabella said, her tears dry, her voice hard. “Tell me what happened to my mother.”

      “She was with child,” Hal said. “She kept it to herself a long while. She still planned to enter the convent after the child was born. It was kept quiet. A dowry was arranged that no abbess could refuse and I would raise the child—you—acknowledged. It was only right and fair. I would not let my child be raised by anyone else. I had brought you into this world and would be responsible.”

      “And Mother?” Mirabella inquired. “Or should I say ‘Lady Grace’?”

      “I went along with the plan,” Lady Grace told Cecily, who sat silent, riveted by the haunting tale. “What else could I do? I was not about to be disgraced by a bastard, legitimised or not. Better the child be seen as mine. I had heard of other women humiliated by their husbands who allowed their bastards by servant wenches run of the house. I would not be one of them. So the servants were dismissed and our house was run with a skeleton staff. I had taken on peculiar fancies during my ‘condition’ and could not abide any number of people about. I padded my gowns and received guests. But I never allowed servants to attend me—it was odd, of course, and earned its share of gossip. But it was a small sacrifice compared to what life would be if the truth came out.

      “As for Mistress Julia, she was housed in a cottage with a well-paid midwife, who delivered ‘my’ daughter, bringing her to me under the cover of night. Thank God she hadn’t been born a boy or Hal would have gone so far as to make her his heir, no doubt,” she added as tears gathered like storm clouds in her eyes. “But I had Brey. I had the heir. And now he is gone. Gone.” She raised her eyes to Cecily. “Now you see why I have nothing.”

      Cecily СКАЧАТЬ