Читать книгу MAIDEN in the Tudor Court - June Francis - Страница 13

Rosamund nodded dumbly, glanced at Master Nilsson to see if he was coming as well, but he was in conversation with Walther. She followed Maud through an unlit chamber and into another room. There a fire glowed on the hearth and several candles provided extra light. She was shown to a cushioned settle and then left alone. She removed her wet gloves and placed them on the hearth to dry. Master Nilsson must be playing games with her. She was no spy!

A maid entered the room, carrying a tray upon which there was a platter of food and a drinking vessel. She slanted a curious glance at Rosamund as she set food and drink on the table and, then, with a whisk of skirts, she was gone.

By the time Rosamund had consumed the food and drunk the mead Maud had returned to the parlour. She bid Rosamund follow her and took her to a room containing a steaming wooden tub.

‘This is where we wash the clothes that we buy. Some we just hang in the steam and clean any stains because washing would ruin the fabric,’ she explained. ‘You’ll find all you need on the chair. I’ll return in a short while.’

As soon as Rosamund was alone she stripped off her travel-stained garments. Then she tested the water with her elbow before lowering herself into its depths. For a moment she just sat there with her legs hunched up against her body, relishing the heat. Then she reached for the soap and gave herself a thorough cleansing, including her hair. As she did so, her thoughts were of Master Nilsson and how he had wrapped his cloak round her and lifted her off her feet. A picture suddenly flashed into her mind of a figure bending over her, crooning ‘Little Rosie is crazy!’ A cold shiver ran down her spine and she was remembering someone holding her down whilst her stepmother forced her mouth open and spooned in the liquid. She could hear Edward asking his mother what effect the potion would have on Rosamund’s mind. Loathing filled her and she so longed for them both to suffer for all they had put her family through that she vowed she would not rest until it came about. And she was convinced that Harry would feel the same.

She did not linger in the tub for long; by the time she had wrapped a drying cloth around her and was rubbing her hair dry, Maud returned with a woollen dressing robe. ‘Goodness! How different you look already,’ she said, holding out the robe to her guest.

Rosamund smiled shyly and slipped her hands through the sleeves and fastened the belt about her slender waist. Then she followed Maud from the room and up a flight of stairs.

‘You will sleep here, Mistress Appleby,’ said Maud, stopping outside a door.

Rosamund followed her inside, only to stop short when she saw Master Nilsson standing there. Alex’s gaze washed over her and paused a fraction as his eyes rested on her cleavage. She had made a handsome young man, but she was even lovelier as a woman.

‘I beg your pardon for invading your privacy. I saw a light in here and was curious. I stayed to approve Maud’s choice of gowns,’ he said.

With his eyes upon her in a way that made her aware of her femininity, Rosamund drew the opening of her robe closer together. She looked down at the garments spread out on the bed and her dark brows knit. ‘I do not have any money to pay for them,’ she said.

‘I will do so,’ said Alex firmly.

Rosamund shook her head. ‘I know you paid for my food and lodgings on the journey, but that was different. I cannot allow you to do this for me.’

‘Why?’ He seemed amused. ‘Perhaps you have me written off as a pauper.’

She hesitated. ‘You cannot be rich if you need to wander hither and thither far from your own country, taking spying work where you can find it and performing in front of whoever will pay you. I know you have spoken of your grandfather’s business, but—’

‘You still know little about my life,’ said Alex in a mild tone. ‘But if it bothers you, I will simply loan you the money. You need to make a good impression on her ladyship if you wish to obtain her support in delving into the circumstances surrounding your father’s death. These gowns will not cost a fortune, but should be suitable for that purpose.’

Rosamund moved over to the bed and fingered one of the gowns. Alex gazed over her shoulder and said, ‘That is an excellent colour and will match your eyes.’

Rosamund felt her cheeks warm and was glad he could not see her face. ‘Aye. It is the kind of dark blue I like,’ she said casually.

She turned to speak to Maud about the blue gown, but realised she must have slipped out of the bedchamber whilst she and Master Nilsson were talking. ‘Where has Maud gone? Now we are here in your friends’ house, we must have a care for our reputations.’

He said seriously, ‘You are right to be concerned about such matters, but Maud and Walther would not expect me to behave in any other way than honourably to a woman.’

‘Tell me, when did you first realise I was a woman?’ she asked curiously.

Alex leant against a bedpost where he could watch her expression. ‘I suspected you were not all you seemed that first night back in the cave.’

She was taken aback. ‘So soon!’

‘Aye. But there is no need to feel that you must marry me. It is our secret that we spent several nights together.’ The words were out before he could recall them and he wondered why he had mentioned marriage. It had not been in his thoughts at all.

Rosamund had not even considered the need for him to make a respectable woman of her, but she did now. The bedchamber appeared to tilt and then spin round so that she had need to clutch one of the other bedposts.

‘I do not wish to be married right now. I have to find Harry and make my stepmother suffer by bringing Edward to his knees.’

Alex felt a vague disappointment that she had no desire to marry him. ‘I am glad that you are a woman of good sense,’ he said brusquely. ‘Marriage would be a complication in my life that I can well do without.’

‘Then that is settled and we will not refer to it again,’ said Rosamund, pushing aside the garments on the bed and sitting down. ‘It is not that I do not enjoy your company,’ she added, toying with her fingernails. ‘But naught happened between us that either of us needs to feel guilty about.’ Her cheeks burned as she remembered how she had wanted him to kiss her and hold her. ‘I am still chaste,’ she added, a quiver in her voice, ‘so let us move on to talk of other matters.’

Alex went to a dressing table upon which were items for a woman’s toilette. He picked up a comb and ran a fingernail along its teeth. ‘As you are such a woman of good sense, I will broach a matter that is on my mind. Have you considered the likelihood of Lady Elizabeth refusing to help you and your stepbrother seeking you out and forcing you to go with him?’

Rosamund said, ‘I do not believe that she will refuse me. I have not been completely honest with you concerning Lady Elizabeth. I kept from you that she is my godmother.’

Alex dropped the comb and whirled round to face her. ‘Your godmother! Why did you keep this a secret from me?’ he demanded.

‘Because you would have questioned why the person I was pretending to be had a lady for a godmother,’ said Rosamund. ‘I am certain there is that in your life that you have not told me—and why should you when we scarcely know each other? Besides, I have not seen my godmother since before my mother died. Yet I have this hope that she will welcome me like a daughter. Then when Harry comes home I could keep house for him.’ She paused. ‘Which reminds me of something that religious said when she thought I was Harry.’

Alex fixed her with a stare. ‘What did she say?’

Rosamund concentrated. ‘Something like “Why did you have to go off the way you did? There was really no need. You won’t know it, but Alex left London. Although perhaps you met with him on your travels?”’

Alex swore beneath his breath in his own tongue.

‘Obviously it means something to you,’ said Rosamund.

He nodded. ‘It was Ingrid you spoke to.’

‘Ingrid! But isn’t she the woman who—?’

‘Aye. And it seems I have misjudged her.’

‘And my brother? How upsetting! She must have taken the veil because you both broke her heart.’ She could not prevent a touch of sarcasm invading her voice.

‘I do not think so,’ said Alex drily. ‘A nun’s habit was one of her favourite disguises.’

Rosamund could not believe what she was hearing. ‘You’re not saying that Ingrid is a spy, too?’

‘I really should not be discussing such information with you,’ said Alex, feeling he needed to be alone for a while. He made for the door. ‘I must go and bathe,’ he said abruptly.

‘No! Don’t go just yet,’ said Rosamund, holding out a hand to him. ‘I would like to know how you met my brother.’

Alex flicked back a lock of damp, tawny hair and his expression was moody. ‘All right. I will do so.’

Rosamund’s heart was suddenly beating ten to the dozen.

‘It was in the port of Visby in my own country twelve years ago. I found him hiding amongst some merchandise that had been carted to the port, ready to be shipped overseas for my grandfather,’ said Alex. ‘Harry looked half-starved and was covered in sores—his clothes were just rags. It was obvious that he needed help.’

‘Poor Harry! Why was he in such a state?’ she asked in distress.

‘At that time we did not speak the other’s language, but my grandfather knew enough English to discover that Harry had escaped from a pirate ship. I might have told you a little about pirate ships already. Anyway, one can encounter many a pirate ship in the northern seas—not that their captains would appreciate being called by that name. But you will find Scottish ships raiding English merchant vessels and English ones attacking their Scottish neighbours. It is not unknown for both to mistakenly attack vessels from my own country, as well as others from the Baltic.’ He paused and held her gaze. ‘It must be stopped, for it is disastrous for trade. That is why England and Scotland are signing a Pact of Perpetual Peace and Henry is marrying off his elder daughter to James of Scotland.’ He frowned. ‘But you will want to know what happened next to Harry.’

‘Please.’

‘We took Harry home with us and my grandmother fed him. That summer we spent getting to know each other. I taught Harry Swedish and he taught me English. We fished and sailed around the islands and were given work to do by my grandparents. Eventually Harry asked my grandfather if he could find him a position on one of his ships. This he did to their mutual satisfaction. Harry and I saw less of each other after that, but the friendship that was forged that summer remained and, when possible, we met up at various ports throughout Europe.’ His voice trailed off and his expression was bleak. ‘I’ve said enough. I will leave you. Sleep well.’ He made for the door.

‘No! Wait!’ She hurried after him and seized his arm. ‘You cannot leave the story there. Tell me—where does Ingrid come in all this? Where did you both meet her?’

Alex allowed himself to be persuaded to sit down again. ‘I met her in Stockholm at a masque. She was young, lovely, charming and I believed her to be a lady.’ He fell silent.

‘And was she a lady?’ prodded Rosamund, wondering what he had been doing at this masque. Spying?

A painful smile played about his mouth. ‘That’s what she believes, but I doubt it is true. The next time we met I was with Harry and we were unloading a cargo in Visby. She looked just as lovely, but was not so well dressed. She gazed right through me as if she did not recognise me, but she spoke to Harry, asking him about the cargo.’ He frowned. ‘I could see that he was just as bewitched by her as I was that night in Stockholm. The next time we met was in Bruges and then London. It was then I began to have my suspicions about her.’

‘What suspicions? She certainly travels a lot,’ said Rosamund, almost enviously.

‘That is because sometimes she has to leave a country swiftly. She is not a real lady, but lives by her wits and has a definite gift for disguise and getting men to talk.’ He rose and said firmly, ‘I believe I’ve given you enough to mull over.’

‘Aye. But I would hear more,’ said Rosamund, wondering how much secret information Ingrid had managed to get out of him. ‘You will tell me more tomorrow?’

He did not answer, and this time, there was no keeping him.

Rosamund returned to the bed and perched on it. She had no doubt that Master Nilsson had saved her brother’s life that day in Visby. For that she would be eternally grateful. She longed to see Harry and get some answers from him about this woman, Ingrid. It seemed to her that Ingrid had truly woven a spell over both men. But for what purpose? And did she know Edward? After all, hadn’t she heard his voice at the Steel Yard? Surely he was the person who Ingrid implied would like to meet her? And where was Harry if Ingrid did not know of his whereabouts?

Rosamund prayed that he was still alive. It would have been far better for her never to have known that Harry had not drowned all those years ago than to discover now, after having such hopes of being reunited with him, that he was dead after all. She felt a lump in her throat and tears pricked the back of her eyes. She needed to talk to Master Nilsson about this matter, but no doubt he was thinking of Ingrid. Perhaps he was full of hope that they could be lovers again, now he believed her innocent of betraying him with Harry.

If only Rosamund had know it was she that was much on Alex’s mind, then she might have felt much more cheerful. As he immersed himself in hot water and rested a leg on the rim of the wooden tub, he had been shocked to realise that he no longer wanted Ingrid. He had spent too many months thinking of her with Harry and feeling hurt. Of course, there were questions he needed to ask her, but somehow during the last week or more he had become accustomed to Mistress Appleby’s company. He thought how enjoyable it would be sharing a large tub with her. But there was no way that he could have Harry’s sister as his mistress. A pity, but there it was. He had promised to find Harry for her and he meant to keep his promise. There was still the matter of the message he had been sent and only Harry could explain that away.

Alex soaped an aching thigh muscle and imagined Mistress Appleby performing the task. He realised that he was obsessing over her now it was in the open that he knew her for a woman. They were going to have to be careful what they said when they reached Lady Elizabeth’s mansion. If she was to suspect that they had spent nights together, unchaperoned, she would think the worst. They had to dissuade her from such thoughts. He found himself considering telling her ladyship that he had enlisted Mistress Appleby as one of his spies. She would be useful at court with her gift of self-effacement, whilst keeping her eyes and ears open. He could guess what she would make of that notion. In his mind’s eye he could see her pretty mouth falling open and those blue-violet eyes of hers widening in astonishment. ‘You jest, Master Nilsson,’ she would blurt out.

He grinned, imagining himself silencing her protestations by kissing those luscious lips. He recalled the feel of her satiny skin beneath his fingers and the swell of her breasts against his chest as they lay in the snow. A definite stirring in his loins caused him to cut short such imaginings and reach for the cold-water jug.

That night when Alex fell asleep he dreamed that he and Mistress Appleby were making love. Afterwards he decked her out in silks and satins and velvet and the best amber jewellery from his country. He woke up with the words running in his head: I give you a choice. You either marry me or be my lover spy. It was then he realised just how desperate he was not to be parted from her and had to remind himself that he had once felt the same about Ingrid and that he no longer loved her.

Rosamund had also been dreaming, but hers were dark ones of her brother drowning and crying out to her to rescue him. She woke with tears on her cheeks and got out of bed and down on her knees and prayed that he was still alive and she would see him again.

She felt better after that and fell asleep once more. This time in her dream she was wearing a dark blue gown and on her raven hair she wore a silver circlet encrusted with gemstones of amber. Master Nilsson was facing her as he placed a ring on her finger. Strangely he was wearing a saffron-dyed tunic and a soft leather jerkin, but on his flaxen head he also wore a silver circlet. He was smiling tenderly down at her and then suddenly he vanished and in his place was her stepbrother’s snarling face.

She woke in terror and this time she did not go back to sleep. She wondered what the dream could mean. No doubt her stepmother would have said it was a sign of her madness. On shaky legs, she went over to the window and drew back the curtain and peered outside. Daylight had come and the sun glistened on the snow in the yard. Her heart lifted and she told herself that she would believe that Harry was still alive. As she gazed down into the yard she saw Master Nilsson tending his horse.

The sight of him reassured her, but she could not help wondering if he had made time to go and take a look at her stepbrother’s residence What had Edward and Ingrid been doing inside the Steel Yard? She must ask Master Nilsson what it was like on the other side of those high walls.

She moved away from the window and looked at the garments that she had placed on a chair before getting into bed, without having made the effort to try any of them on. She removed the robe that she had slept in and hastened to cover her nakedness with a cream, woollen under gown. The feel of the soft, warm fabric gave her a frisson of pleasure. She pulled on the blue gown over it and the sensation when the skirts brushed her calves as she twirled round made her want to dance. The sleeves were puffed about her upper arms, but gathered tightly in a band just below the elbow, where they puffed out again to be gathered in embroidered bands at the wrists. She stretched forth her arms and did another twirl.

Then she frowned. What was she thinking of? She could only have this gown if Master Nilsson loaned her the money and loans had to be paid back. But she was going to have to wear a gown if she were to go with him to Lady Elizabeth’s house, so she was going to have to accept being further in debt to him.

Having made that decision, she tried on several more gowns. She dithered over whether to take the dark blue one, but remembered what he had said about the colour matching her eyes. She selected another two gowns, one green and one saffron yellow, before also trying on stockings, garters, a couple of hats, shoes and boots.

She was combing her hair when there came a knock on the door.

‘Mistress Appleby, are you awake? We must make haste.’

Her pulses raced. ‘Aye. I am almost ready, Master Nilsson.’

‘You have chosen some gowns to take with you?’ he asked.

Rosamund hesitated and then opened the door. She caught a whiff of almond-and-honey soap and noticed he was clean shaven. His tawny hair curled about his ears and he had changed his garments and now wore a cream linen shirt beneath a russet doublet; his wellformed legs were clad in red hose. Her senses were roused; she realised that not only did she still want him to kiss her, but that she was desperate for his approval of her appearance.

Alex’s breath caught in his throat at the anxiety in her eyes and he wanted to punch those who had given her such a low opinion of herself. ‘Blue is a colour you should wear often,’ he said, taking one of her hands and twirling her round. ‘How lovely you look.’ He felt some of the tension leave her and her obvious delight made him want to reassure her by taking her in his arms and kissing her. But he knew that he must keep a rein on his passions.

‘You can have no notion of how different I feel wearing such a gown,’ she said shyly.

‘Your eyes are like sapphires. I scarcely recognise you as the same person who rode me down near Appleby Manor,’ he teased.

‘That seems so long ago now,’ said Rosamund, blushing. ‘But you must go downstairs, Master Nilsson. There is no need for you to wait for me. I will be down as soon as I have tidied my hair.’

‘I am content to wait for you.’ He released her hand and went over to the dressing table and picked up a net of silken blue threads. ‘What a pretty trifle this is. You will wear it?’ Rosamund eyed the hairnet and agreed that it was indeed pretty. He handed it to her. ‘Have you chosen other gowns to take with you?’

‘I have picked another two,’ she answered, ‘that is, if you are willing to fund me to that extent? I need boots and shoes and other fripperies, as well.’

‘Of course I am willing.’ He picked up the cloaks hanging over the back of the chair. ‘You will have these?’

Rosamund gave them a fleeting glance. ‘I need only one.’

Alex placed a fur-lined blue velvet cloak about her shoulders. ‘Now how does that feel?’

Rosamund had noticed the cloak earlier, but had deemed it too costly to try on. Now she could not resist stroking the blue pile. ‘I have never worn velvet before.’

‘You will need a brooch to fasten it as it has no ties,’ said Alex.

‘I do not have a brooch.’ She made to remove the cloak, but he stayed her with a hand.

‘I have a brooch you can use. Please accept this cloak as a gift. I know you do not wish to be beholden to me, but I would like to see you wearing it.’

She would have refused him, only he lifted a fold of the material and brushed it against her cheek. ‘Imagine wearing such a cloak in your stepmother’s presence. Picture her gnashing her teeth in envy and fury.’

A faint smile replaced Rosamund’s serious expression. ‘You tempt me, Master Nilsson. But I cannot wear it now—it is an evening cloak.’

‘Then wear this brown woollen one for travelling and we will take the blue one with us. Now tidy your hair and let us be on our way.’

Rosamund submitted to his will. When Harry returned, she felt certain he would willingly pay her debts. She pinned up her hair beneath the blue silk net, whilst Alex neatly folded the garments she had chosen.

She followed him downstairs and into the parlour where Maud and Walther were eating breakfast in front of the fire. Walther said something in Swedish to Alex, but it was Maud who translated his words. ‘My husband says how lovely you are and I agree with him. You will have some bread and honey and ale?’

Rosamund thanked her, and was shown to the table. Maud left her for a moment, but she was soon joined by Alex and Walther. Whilst their host poured ale into drinking vessels, Alex produced a silver brooch from a pouch. He handed it to Rosamund and she gazed at it with interest because its design was unusual.

‘What does it symbolise?’ she asked. ‘It looks like Christ’s cross, only…’

‘It was once an amulet of Thor’s hammer,’ said Alex. ‘As you can see, it has been made into a cross in the form of a brooch.’

‘You must value it highly,’ she said.

He hesitated. ‘It belonged to Harry. I bent to pick it up and it was then that I was attacked from behind.’

She paled. ‘You’ve kept this because you believe it is evidence against my brother?’

Alex shrugged. ‘I kept it because I did not wish to be rid of it. You can keep it.’

She was greatly moved by the thought of having in her possession that which had belonged to her brother. ‘Thank you. I will take care of it until I see him again.’

At that moment Maud returned, along with a serving maid, so no more was said about the brooch.

When the meal was over and Rosamund came to look for the bundle of clothes, there was no sign of it. She spoke to Alex about it.

‘Maud has tied it up with cord and it awaits us in the next chamber. We will collect it on our way out.’ He stood and helped her to her feet.

Rosamund thanked Walther and Maud for their hospitality.

‘We hope all goes well with your plans and look forward to seeing you both soon,’ they said.