Читать книгу In The Shadow - Анна Морион - Страница 2

Summer, 1526

The light drizzle that had caught the girls in the flower field soon turned into a heavy downpour, and their long, already heavy summer dresses were soaked through. The wet hems became heavy and clinging to their legs, preventing them from running towards the castle for shelter.

– My hood! – Alienor suddenly heard behind her. Tall and long-legged, she had already managed to jump over the wide puddle that had already formed on the field, but she did not hesitate to return to her friend.

Brigid was still at the other end of this very puddle and, bending as low as her father's servants do to take his orders, was running her hands over the wet ground.

– What is there? Brigid, hurry! – shouted Alienor, but not wishing to jump over the puddle again, she remained where she was.

– My hood! It fell off my head! – replied Brigid with concern in her voice.

– Well and God with it! – tried to cheer up her friend Alienor.

– But this is my favourite… A present from my mother for my fifteenth birthday! – Brigid never stopped her search, but it was fruitless.

– We'll look for him tomorrow, I promise! – Alienor was impatient: she was shivering from the cold, and her wet dress made her feel disgusted.

– But it would be ruined! The velvet! The pearls! Everything! – Almost crying, Brigid shouted with despair. She gave up her search, straightened her back and splashed her hands.

– It won't get any worse! I'm sure your hood has got so wet that there is no need to look for it now in this mud, in this downpour! – Alienor said cheerfully, out of place. – But I promise that tomorrow we'll come back and find him together! Now let's run to the castle! Please! I'm dying of cold!

– You promise? – Brigid asked, and a happy smile shone on her face: ah, Alienor! She always manages to find the right words!

– I promise! May God take my soul if I don't fulfil my promise!

Encouraged by her friend, Brigid flung her long wet hair back from her wet face, lifted the hem of her dress, took a step forward and, suddenly slipping on a clod of sticky mud, with a silent cry of surprise, fell face down. When she hastily rose to her feet, her friend laughed merrily.

– 'Ah, my dear! You look like a real peasant woman! – Alienor exclaimed and laughed again. She realised that her friend did not like her laughter, but she could not help it: it was tearing her lungs.

Poor Brigid! Her face was smeared in liquid earth, and her almost new dress looked as if several buckets of cow dung had been poured on it. The girl's hair was smeared with mud, and her palms and nails were black. She looked so pitiful that if her father had passed by, he would not have recognised his own daughter.

– I'm sorry… I'm sorry! – Alienor managed to hold back her laughter and, dashing like a young deer across a puddle, the girl rushed to her friend's aid. However, her efforts were unsuccessful: Brigid's face remained black and her dress was dirty.

– How embarrassing I am… Mother of God, what will Mother say when she sees me like this? – Brigid wailed, but immediately burst out laughing: 'She says William Tury is coming to the castle today! He will ask for my hand in marriage! Imagine his eyes when I enter the hall!

– He won't see you, silly girl! We'll take you through the kitchen! – Alienor declared firmly and took her friend's dirty palm in her own, not squeamish about it, but wanting to show her sisterly affection. – Run!

– Run! – Brigid responded, gripping Alienor's palm tightly.

The girls ran as fast as if they were not young misses, but a pair of roe deer. They skipped nimbly across the puddle, reached the small forest surrounding the Norton family castle, owned by Alienor's father, the king's counsellor Jacob Norton, and rushed laughingly to the back door leading to the great kitchen.

– Mother of God! Miss Brigid, is that you? – screamed one of the maids, slicing into thin slices the meat of a roast tender pig.

– I fell to the ground! – shouted the girl cheerfully to her. – Don't tell your mother!

– Your mother is looking for you everywhere! – The servant girl said grudgingly. Like all the servants of the castle, she treated the friend of her masters' daughter as her own sister, remembering of course that she was far above them in rank. – And you, Miss Alienor, your father is looking for you! – she added, and pointed the tip of her long, broad knife at the door leading out of the kitchen. – Get out of here before they see you here! And even looking like that!

– We're leaving! Don't be so angry! – Alienor laughed and, pulling Brigid with her, headed for the low wooden door leading to the servants' staircase, hidden from the eyes of hosts and guests.

– We need to be as quiet as mice! – Alienor whispered to her friend as they made their way up the stone staircase, which smelled damp and was covered in moss in some places. – You need to be bathed in warm water and herbs… And the dress, alas, will have to be thrown away! But don't be sad: if William Tury, that handsome man, asks for your hand, they'll make you a dozen… No, two dozen new dresses! And jewellery! They'll buy them for you, the most beautiful, the most…

– Alienor! – suddenly came a woman's voice from somewhere above. The voice, echoing off the sturdy stone walls of the rather narrow staircase, belonged to the girl's mother, Lady Francesca Norton.

– Mother! – Alienor gasped and, pressing Brigid against the wall, whispered in her ear: – 'I will go first! It is not good for my mother to see you like this! She values purity so much that she would faint at the sight of a beauty like you!

– Right, I'll wait here. Please find my mother and ask her to prepare a bucket of warm water for me. My father must not know that I have appeared in the castle black as an old homeless wanderer! – Brigid replied faintly.

– I will! Stay here for now! – Alienor let go of her friend's palm, lifted the wet hem of her dress, and hurried up to her waiting mother. – 'Mother, do not be angry! It is not my fault that it rained!

– My child, you need to change your clothes… We have been visited by titled guests! This only happens once in a lifetime, and I will not let you spoil this moment…" said the resentful Lady Norton, but soon her voice disappeared behind the door, and Brigid could not make out the last words.

"Guests! And I was so lucky to fall in the mud!" – With a mockery of herself the girl smiled. She glanced again at her dress and arms, took a deep breath, humbly accepting her awkward position, and, after waiting a little while, slowly made her way up. However, not even three steps up, Brigid heard the door at the top of the stairs open and bang loudly against the wall, the very door behind which Alienor and her mother had recently hidden, and the stairs were suddenly filled with a loud, displeased male voice.

– Now listen, Catherine: we shall stay here as long as I like! I do not wish to ride in the pouring rain! But you, if you are in such a hurry to London, you may go without me! – The voice was like a peal of thunder, and Brigid involuntarily pressed herself against the damp, cold wall.

Goosebumps of fear ran down her back: she was so frightened by this strong, authoritative voice.

– You are right, my dear husband. Walking in the rain is not the best of pleasures. – There was a soft female voice. – I will be glad to keep you company in this cosy and lovely place. Our daughter will understand our tardiness and certainly won't take any offence at us.

– I am glad you find this place lovely," the man's voice parried, and this time there was a coldness in it.

– When the sun comes out again, my dear husband, we can take a walk in the neighbourhood. If you wish, we shall take Miss Anne Boleyn and Miss Mary Carrie with us. – The woman's voice remained still as soft and warm, and this contrast so surprised Brigid that she involuntarily put her palm to her breast and aghhed in pain for the stranger.

It seemed to the girl that her sigh had not been noticed, but the walls, which repeated it with a quiet echo, betrayed her.

– Hey, you there! Over here! Now! What the hell is that? Spies in Norton Castle? – suddenly she heard a man's voice full of anger, and, pale, neither dead nor alive, she hastened to answer.

– 'I'm not spying, sir! I was just coming up the stairs! – squeaked Brigid, praying in her heart that she might be allowed to remain where she was, for she dreaded to meet the owner of that terrible voice and what he would say to her.

– I said, this way!

– Coming, sir!

Tears came to Brigid's eyes. She went up the stairs, almost out of breath, and brushed from her cheeks that salty moisture which not only did not wash away the dirt from them, but smeared it still more.

Soon, trembling with fear and not daring to look at the lady and her husband standing before her, Brigid stopped in front of the unknown guests and lowered herself before them in a deep curtsy.

The staircase was immediately filled with loud, deep male laughter.

– So this is the bird that has been spying on us! – The man turned to his wife, and then threw to Brigid: – 'You don't look well, young miss.

– Thank you, sir," the girl said hastily, and only then realised her mistake: the man laughed even louder.

– Oh, no, miss, it's not my doing! – Through his laughter, he said.

– Forgive my foolishness, sir! – Wanting to disappear, to vanish into thin air, the girl exclaimed. She was so ashamed of her foolish behaviour and tactless words that, if her face had not been covered with mud, the castle guests would have seen it as red as a ripe apple that has absorbed the warm rays of the sun.

– Dear Miss, what has happened to you? – The woman asked. Her voice sounded tender, as if she felt sorry for the poor girl standing before her.

– I was in a field of flowers, my lady… It rained heavily and I ran to the castle, but on the way I slipped and fell face down in the mud," Brigid said quietly. She did not dare to look up at the faces of the strangers, and looked only at the long hem of the woman's gold-embroidered blue dress and the man's high hunting boots.

– That's it! So you're not a servant? – The man asked in a calmer tone.

– No, sir. I am the daughter of…

– It doesn't matter. Go to your room and clean yourself! – the stranger commanded imperiously. – Go!

– Right away, sir! – Brigid straightened her legs and, her head low, walked quickly round the strangers, opened the heavy wooden door, and stepped out into the wide corridor. Her cheeks burned with shame, and she chastised herself for failing to keep silent and giving away her presence.

What did they think of her? That she was a spy? That she had deliberately hidden herself on the stairs to overhear them? What if her strict father heard about it? Or worse, the young, handsome William Tury? She would keep quiet and hope that the lady and her husband would never recognise this dirty, clumsy girl as the daughter of the disgraced Richard Guise, who is already in disfavour of the king.

When Brigid finally entered her chambers, where her mother appeared to be waiting, the first thing she heard was that she was a bad daughter, that she was a disgrace to her family's name, and that if she appeared before her mother like that again, she should blame herself! The convent will be able to teach this wretch!

The soft-hearted girl listened to her mother's reproaches and hurtful words in silence, bowing her head before her. She did not say a word in her own defence: had it ever helped? How many times had she heard those words before? Her mother, an irascible and proud distant relative of the now deceased Elizabeth Woodville of England, had expected her only daughter to elevate the family name and restore the royal favour that the king had deprived them of because of her father's awkward remark about the tenacious royal favourite Anne Boleyn.

The vindictive Miss Boleyn only had to sadly drop a few words to the king that Richard Guise laughed at her, and he sent the loyal servant from the court without explanation and deprived him of all ranks and the title of baronet. And for two years now the Guise family had been in disgrace, without a name, without much means of livelihood, and with great resentment towards Anne Boleyn. However, Brigid did not consider Anne guilty of their family's downfall: her father should have been modest and kept his tongue behind his teeth… It was because of his inappropriate witticisms that the way to the royal palace was closed to her, which, surprisingly, the girl was glad, because she was so fond of her sweet, strange wilderness, her father's castle and the smell of flower fields surrounding it.

No, Brigid had never wanted to be a lady-in-waiting to Her Majesty Queen Catherine, had never sought the king's attention, and hoped that she would soon become the wife of the young, dark-haired, handsome William, whom she had been in love with ever since she had seen him at one of the festivities organised by Alienor's father, Lord Norton. Fortunately, even though the Guise name had been trampled into the mud, Lord Norton had not turned his back on his old friend Richard, so Brigid spent weeks and even months with her friend Alienor at the Nortons' grand old castle, known for its luxury.

While Lady Guise was reprimanding her daughter, Richard Guise entered the chambers unheard. When he saw Brigid looking like a pig herder, he said nothing, but gave her a cold, contemptuous look and turned to his wife:

– Who has ever seen her so ugly?

– I do not know, my dear husband… I have not yet had time to ask her about it," she answered him in an apologetic tone, and, glancing again at her guilty daughter, asked in a stern voice: – Who saw you? Confess! Servants?

– Yes, mother. The servants are in the kitchen," Brigid answered faintly. Her father's arrival startled her: he was never as verbose as her mother, but it was he who terrified her with his icy stare and his rare but hurtful barbs. Sir Richard had a knack of keeping his household in awe, and even his wife, a woman who knew her own worth, was afraid of his wrath.

– Who else? – the mother inquired. Her voice never lost its sternness.

– Alienor… She was with me in the field when the rain started. – The girl swallowed and, not daring to look at her father and mother, asked timidly: – May I ask you, mother, to order you to bring warm water?

– Warm water? You can bathe in cold water too! – Sir Richard grinned mockingly. – Where did you get so dirty, you little muddy thing?

– I fell in the mud, Father… It was very slippery," Brigid began.

– You fell. Next time you fall, don't forget to smash your stupid, empty head," Sir Richard interrupted her in a calm tone. – This dress cost me a fortune, and you've ruined it. Don't dream of getting a new one! There are such guests at the castle, and she's wandering the fields like some peasant girl!

– I had Alienor with me, sir… And we had not heard that guests were coming. – She bit her lip: she always did that when she was struggling to hold back tears. Crying in front of her parents was forbidden to her: she had heard from them more than once that her tears were of no use to anyone, and that they only made their hearts disgusted with her.

Brigid was a dutiful and diligent daughter, but Sir Richard and his wife Jane always found something unkind in her, always found faults in her. Thank God she was beautiful, so beautiful that in this region she was called "The Flaming Rose", she seemed to have inherited the legendary beauty of Elizabeth Woodville, but even this did not save her from the ridicule and rude remarks of her parents: why do they need such a beautiful daughter, if they can not put her in the bed of the king and through her to achieve the former wealth and return what he took from them?

– Make her clean, and let her put on her best dress," said Sir Richard to his wife, without even dignifying his daughter with a glance. – And hurry up: the King must see her in all her glory! For who knows if he may suddenly decide to travel onwards? That Henry is so unpredictable! – He hurried out of his daughter's chamber, remembering to slam the door loudly.

– The King? – Brigid asked incomprehensibly, looking up at her mother.

– Did the rain pour in your ears? – Lady Jane wrinkled her face. – Yes, the king is here! With his whole household! He is here, and you dare to turn up covered in mud! Or is it cow dung?

– It's only mud, Mother…

– Mary! – Lady Jane shouted loudly before her daughter had finished speaking. – Mary! Where does that lazy girl go?!

– I am here, my lady! – An old maid, with strong, rough, man-like hands and a face covered with deep wrinkles, slipped quietly into the chamber like a mouse.

– Fetch some water and wash that pig. Hurry up! – Lady Jane ordered, with her eyebrows pushed up to the bridge of her nose, and was out the door in a moment.