“Rumor will not call her your muse, Jack. Everyone will think you have abandoned me for your mistress.”

His smile turned to a frown. “I will remind them of Surrey and Fair Geraldine.” At my blank look, he laughed again. “Have you never read the poem the earl wrote to Elizabeth Fitzgerald? She was a child at the time. He felt sorry for her, alone at court and blighted by her Irish father’s treason. The verses singing her praises were intended to remind men of her noble heritage and help her to a good marriage.”

“So you wrote poetry to Mistress Markham only to help her find a husband?” The words were so sweetly said that honey should have dripped from my lips.

Jack lapped them up. “I wish her well, as I do all of the ladies who serve the princess or have served her in the past.”

I knew better. As they had in the Tower, his features softened whenever he spoke of Isabella Markham. She was more than a muse to him. More than a young woman he sought to help to a marriage with someone else. He desired her. If he had not committed adultery in the flesh, he had most assuredly sinned in his thoughts about her.

It is always better to face the truth than to deceive one’s self, even when the truth is so painful that it hurts to take the next breath.

We left for Stepney within the fortnight.












49

Stepney, August 1556

It was some five months later that the summer fevers came. I fell ill, so ill that I feared I would die. To be so near to death forced me to think about my life and whether I would have done anything differently. I decided that I would not, but as I began to recover, it worried me that my daughter lived in total ignorance of her connection to the royal family, even more so than I had for so many years.

Ignorance is never wise.

I had no desire to claim a royal inheritance. It was far too dangerous. I wanted to be John Malte’s bastard rather than the king’s and I had fought to back that claim with legal documents. But since both Queen Mary and Princess Elizabeth knew the truth, I no longer believed I could protect my daughter by keeping her uninformed.

I quarreled with Jack about telling her my story. He forbade it. That ended the discussion for a time. I felt too weak to argue further. But as the weeks passed and I did not regain my former good health, my sense of urgency grew stronger. When fortune presented me with an opportunity, I took it, and so began my tale.












50

Catherine’s Court, November 1556

There was silence in the hall. The portraits on the walls looked down on Hester Harington and her mother, seated side by side on a padded settle before the hearth. Audrey had her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, holding her close.

She had told Hester everything now, Audrey thought, all except the reason they were presently rusticating in Somerset. Her daughter appeared to be mulling over what she’d learned. Physically spent, mentally exhausted, Audrey could not think of anything more to say. Had she convinced Hester to keep silent about her royal blood? The girl was so young. Did she truly understand the danger?

A voice spoke from behind them. “It is very late. You both should be in bed.”

Hester abruptly disentangled herself and ran to greet her father. Jack hugged her tightly in return, then gave her a little push in the direction of her bedchamber. She made a face, but she went.

“I wish she would obey me as readily as she does you,” Audrey murmured.

Jack said nothing.

“I’ve told her everything. It will be up to you to guide what she does with that knowledge.”

He frowned. “What do you mean? You are her mother.”

Audrey rose slowly, attempting to compensate for the dizziness she knew would come. The spells did not pass as quickly as they once had. By the time she felt steady enough to take a step, Jack was at her side, his face ashen.

“There are learned physicians in London. We could return there.”

“My fate is in God’s hands. Have we not been taught that, Jack, by both the New Religion and the old?”

In his face she saw the confirmation of her fears. She had never fully recovered from the fevers of the summer just past. She grew weaker with each passing day, not stronger. She might have weeks left, perhaps even months, but her days were numbered.

Jack helped her from the hall. Slowly, they made their way toward Hester’s chamber. By the time they reached her bedside, she was already soundly sleeping, one hand curled under her cheek.

Audrey smiled. She had finished what she’d set out to do. For better or worse, with or without her mother’s presence, Hester would not have to go searching for the truth. She knew what her royal inheritance was and she knew why it was better to make no claim to it.

A glance at her husband reassured Audrey. That Jack would remarry when she was gone seemed certain. No doubt he’d wed his muse. But his feelings for Hester would never change. As they stood together, looking down at the sleeping child, his eyes were full of his love for their daughter.












NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR


Although this is a work of fiction, all the characters except Edith, Mistress Yerdeley, and Dionysus Petre the dancing master are based on real people. You will find mini-biographies of some of them in the next section. These may also contain spoilers.

Many of the things Audrey experiences really happened, although she may not have been present when they did. We do not know exactly when she died or where, but there was an outbreak of fever in the summer of 1556 and many who were ill then but survived were carried off by a second outbreak that took place during the winter of 1556–57.

The names Audrey and Hester may strike readers as unusual for the times. Audrey was a nickname for Ethelreda (don’t ask me how, but I’m told there is a linguistic explanation). Many girls were named after this English saint who lived in East Anglia from 630 to 679. It has been suggested that Audrey was named for her because she was born on St. Ethelreda’s Day, June 23. As for Hester, I think it likely that something happened circa 1548 to call attention to Queen Esther’s story in the Bible, perhaps the publication of a popular version of the tale. In addition to Hester Harington, there were at least two other Hesters born at about that same time, Hester Saltonstall and Hester Pinckney.

The glove or pocket beagle is a real breed and King Henry is known to have kept a pack of them for hunting.

Audrey’s mother is said to have been a laundress at Windsor Castle. I didn’t want to include an information dump in the novel, but for those who are interested in what the life of a laundress was like, what follows is a description of how you’d get your linens clean in the sixteenth century. The process would start on a Saturday by soaking the laundry in a thick green mixture of water and summer sheep’s dung. This took three days. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, each item had to be dipped repeatedly in the river. After the last rinsing, it was beaten out and left to soak until Thursday morning, when it was finally allowed to dry. On Friday the laundress put everything into a buck tub. This sat up on a stool with an underbuck beneath it for the lye to drain into. A laundress would spread a buck sheet over the linen and then spread a thin paste of dog’s mercury, mallow, and wormwood over the sheet. Finally, she’d pour strong, boiling lye over the whole thing, cover it up, and leave it to stand overnight. In the morning, she’d take the linens out and spread them on the grass and water them all morning. This business with the buck sheet and the lye and the watering would be repeated twice more before the laundry was dropped into a vat of lye and urine and soaked to bleach it. Then, on Monday morning, each piece would be laid out and watered. This process was repeated daily until the laundry was considered to be white enough. Sometimes that required another week or more.

As for Princess Elizabeth’s incarceration in the Tower of London, my account contradicts some popular beliefs about her stay there. I’ve relied for details on the information in David Starkey’s 2001 biography, Elizabeth: The Struggle for the Throne, which points out several factual errors in earlier accounts.












WHO WAS WHO AT THE ENGLISH COURT

1532–56



ANTHONY DENNY

Anthony Denny was one of King Henry VIII’s most trusted servants throughout the period of this novel. He was a yeoman of the wardrobe by 1536, as well as a groom of the privy chamber. In 1539 he became chief gentleman of the privy chamber and deputy groom of the stool. He was knighted in 1544. In October 1546 he was named groom of the stool and was also keeper of the “dry stamp” with the king’s signature. In other words, he could authorize documents in the king’s name. This made him a very powerful figure at court, despite the fact that he was not a nobleman. His wife was a lady-in-waiting to all six of Henry VIII’s queens. He died in 1549.

JOANNA DINGLEY

Nothing is known about Joanna Dingley or Dyngley other than that she was said to have been a royal laundress. Her natural or “base” daughter, Audrey Malte, was raised as the child of John Malte, Henry VIII’s tailor, but was later said to have been the king’s child. Joanna was married to a Mr. Dobson by the time Malte made his will on September 10, 1546. It refers to her as “Joane Dingley, now wife of one Dobson” and as “Joane Dyngley, otherwise Joane Dobson.” He left her twenty pounds. Joanna does not seem to have played any part in her daughter’s life and the identity of Mr. Dobson remains elusive.

EDWARD VI

Not yet ten years old when he became king, he was a devout follower of the New Religion and favored his Protestant half sister Elizabeth over his Catholic half sister Mary. Modern scholars seem to agree that it was Edward’s own idea to pass over both Elizabeth and Mary in favor of making his cousin, Lady Jane Grey, his heir. He died in 1553.

PRINCESS ELIZABETH

Elizabeth was at Ashridge in August 1543 with her half siblings, father, and new stepmother. She went with the royal progress to Ampthill but was abruptly sent back to Ashridge. The supposition is that she asked the wrong question, probably about her mother. Speaking the name Anne Boleyn in the presence of King Henry was not permitted. In 1554, when she was briefly imprisoned in the Tower of London, one of her attendants was John Harington’s wife, Audrey. Elizabeth did consider fleeing to France in 1556–57, but decided against it, remaining in England until she succeeded Queen Mary, peacefully, in 1558. She reigned until her death in 1603.

HESTER HARINGTON

Hester was the only child of Audrey Malte and John Harington. The date of her birth is uncertain, but could have been no earlier than 1548. At one time there was a portrait of her, described as showing a child holding a book. She was still living in 1568 but after that disappears from history.

JOHN HARINGTON

A gentleman of the Chapel Royal early in his career at court, Harington later entered the service of Sir Thomas Seymour, most often serving as a messenger. He helped arrange for Lady Jane Grey to join the household at Seymour Place. When Seymour was arrested for treason, Harington spent more than eleven months as a prisoner in the Tower of London. He was there once again in 1554, suspected of conspiring with the Duke of Suffolk during the uprising known as Wyatt’s Rebellion. It is not known how he met Audrey Malte, but they were married by 1548 and through her he became a considerable landowner. They had one child. By 1549, he is believed to have fallen in love with Isabella Markham, one of Princess Elizabeth’s ladies, to whom he wrote poetry. She later became his second wife. Harington died in 1582.

HENRY VIII

King of England, known for having six wives and numerous mistresses. In fact, the only two women who were certainly his mistresses were Elizabeth Blount and Mary Boleyn. Did he have a child with a laundress? We’ll never know for certain. He died in 1547 and was succeeded by Edward VI.

HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY

Known as the poet earl, Surrey was a loose cannon. He did go rioting through the streets with his friends. He did suggest, in public, that his sister would do better to become the king’s mistress than Sir Thomas Seymour’s wife. Was he guilty of treason? Probably not, but there was just enough doubt about his intentions to send him to his death in 1547.