And Less Than Kind Read online

  Elizabeth was not sure how much effect her request for chapel furniture would have on Mary, but she hoped it would assure her sister that she intended to continue to worship by the Catholic rite. Likely the request would save her the cost of the chapel furniture too, Elizabeth, who kept a tight reign on expenditures, specially unnecessary ones, thought.

  Likely Mary would send a priest as well as chapel furniture. Elizabeth repressed a sigh. At least her request had been private. Those who clung to the reform rite might never know, and she had not been burdened with a black-garbed priest riding with her for all the people who had come out to cheer her to see.

  One of the servants was sent off with Elizabeth's letter. Warm drinks were served to the latest come ladies. They had barely finished when Sir Edward came to tell them the horses were sufficiently rested. Elizabeth rose at once. Kat groaned, but also got to her feet. A party of guards went out first, then two of Elizabeth's guards, then the ladies, the other two guards and the rest of the armsmen.

  By now the folk who had been sent to the kitchen had had time to spread the word in the village around the inn of who had come. The inn yard was full of folk, and the murmur "Elizabeth, the Lady Elizabeth" ran, until she appeared, when hearty cheers rang out. Elizabeth smiled and waved graciously and sharply ordered her men to be gentle when they pushed back the crowd so the horses could be brought.

  When they were mounted, Elizabeth smiled all around again and said sweetly, "Thank you, good people," waving as the party rode out. She knew the signs of her popularity would be reported, both the crowds that had gathered in the London streets and this, but was uncertain of the result. It might be a danger or a protection, but one thing she was certain about: she was not going to have her armsmen use force to disperse any crowd cheering her.

  Having worked out their fidgets and high spirits on the first lap of the journey, both horses and Elizabeth, who had at last shaken the fear she would be pursued and ordered back to the Court, were willing to go forward at a walk. The travel wagon was still easily in sight of her when a single horseman appeared riding toward them. He waved his cap, then pulled to the side of the road as if to wait until they passed.

  Suddenly Elizabeth burst through the horses ahead of her, crying aloud, "Denno! Oh, my Denno how glad I am to see you."

  Marberry and Gage gasped with shock, but Kat, Blanche Parry, and most of Elizabeth's long-time ladies were all laughing.

  "Who wagered against his appearing?" Dorothy Stafford asked.

  All of Elizabeth's ladies, except the queen's new additions, grinned and shook their heads, Agnes Fitzalan remarking, "I swear if we were magically carried to China and set off from one of their cities to come home, Lord Denno would be on the road somewhere, waiting for us."

  "Who or what is this Denno?" Marberry asked, gazing with horror at Lady Elizabeth leaning precariously from her saddle to offer her hand to a white-haired old man, who kissed it . . . rather too lingeringly in Marberry's opinion.

  "Lord Denno is a merchant, rich as Croesus, who, quite literally, I believe, dandled Lady Elizabeth on his lap when she was an infant," Kat said, smiling fondly at Denno and Elizabeth who were talking hard and fast. "I only became her governess when she was three so I did not see that myself. Lady Bryan told me—and mentioned his generosity."

  "A merchant was given such access to a royal child?" Marberry's voice was contemptuous. "No doubt he was her mother's friend."

  "Oh no." Kat flushed, knowing what kind of stories ladies in Mary's confidence would have heard about Ann Boleyn. "He was friend and companion to the duke of Richmond and came with him when Richmond visited. Until he died, the duke was mad for Lady Elizabeth. She called him Da, although we explained and explained that Richmond was not her father."

  "But Richmond died years ago," Marberry remarked. "How come this merchant is still so much a favorite that Lady Elizabeth nearly falls off her horse to give him her hand."

  Kat shook her head. "Lord Denno grieved terribly over Richmond when he returned from a long voyage and discovered the young duke had died. He said Lady Elizabeth was his legacy from his dear Harry, that to please her gave meaning to his life. He has no one of his own at all . . . except Lady Alana is some distant cousin." She smiled reminiscently. "When Lady Elizabeth was a little girl, she was a veritable plague to him, always quarreling with him and demanding the most unsuitable things. But he never lost patience and always gave her only what was right and proper."

  "And very rich and expensive," Alice Finch said, giggling.

  "And he is most generous to us also," Dorothy Stafford added, grinning again. "You should see the furs he brought us—all Lady Elizabeth's ladies. A very nice man, clever and amusing."

  "And what does he get in return?" Eleanor Gage asked, her eyes round with distress.

  Kat laughed. "A smile from Lady Elizabeth. Her hand to kiss. The privilege of being soundly beaten at chess—although he usually beats her at tables. He adores her and is so rich that what he gives is meaningless to him, except as it makes our lady smile."

  "Surely she arranges lower taxes or easier passage for his goods through customs," Marberry said.

  "No," Kat answered sharply. "You are newly come to Lady Elizabeth's service and do not understand Lord Denno's special place. Though it may shock you, I must say it so you understand. He is her friend, her true friend. He cares nothing for any favor. It is as if she is all he has in the world to . . . love."

  "Not in any wrong way," Dorothy Stafford said quickly. "You can see he is too old to be interesting as a man, but she has a very strong affection for him."

  "And he is a safe friend," Kat put in, defending her indifference to the relationship. "He never cared about political party. He is so rich that the trading is a game to keep him busy. He pays his taxes and if the way of his goods is eased through customs, it is his man of business, Joseph Clayborne, who arranges it. In all the years Lord Denno has come visiting Lady Elizabeth, I have never heard him say a single word about his business, except sometimes to make us laugh over his or Master Clayborne's experiences with foolish or greedy clients."

  "Does he cling strongly to the reformist rite?" Gage sounded worried. "Many merchants do espouse that false rite."

  "If he does, he has never spoken of it to us," Alice Finch remarked; her brow furrowed in difficult thought. "And he never, that I can remember, came to any church service with us."

  "He never talks about politics or religion." Dorothy Stafford offered a guileless smile.

  "What does he talk about then? Gossip?" Marberry asked.

  "No, Lord Denno doesn't gossip," Kat said, seriously. "He doesn't seem at all interested in the Court or the courtiers. He was friends with Sir Anthony Denny, but Sir Anthony died, and I know the duke of Norfolk is the one who got permission for him to visit Lady Elizabeth while she was at Court, so Norfolk must know him. Mostly he talks about the strange countries he has visited and his adventures as a trader."

  Elizabeth Marberry made some inconsequential remark. It was clear that Dorothy Stafford knew she was Mary's spy and would say nothing that could cast a shadow on Lady Elizabeth. Likely Kat Ashley knew too, but Alice Finch did not; poor Alice though not totally simple was certainly a few bricks short of a full hod. It was significant that Alice innocently confirmed what Ashley and Stafford said. This Denno was no rebel and no contact for them.

  While those thoughts passed through her mind, Marberry watched as Sir Edward rode over to join Lady Elizabeth and Lord Denno. It was interesting to see that Sir Edward, who was careful and punctilious about his place, accorded the older man a bow, and as the wagon drew nearer the small group, they could see that all three were smiling. In another moment the old man nodded; the women heard Elizabeth's joyous laugh and Sir Edward's hearty "Glad to have you, my lord."

  Then Elizabeth rode back to the armsmen with Lord Denno by her side. Lady Alana fell back to give him room. Sir Edward again moved to the head of the cavalcade and they all set off. It did seem a lit
tle strange to Marberry that Lord Denno, who had come from the direction of Ashridge should ride back again, but when she remarked on it, Kat smiled again.

  "Lord Denno must have ridden to Ashridge to see if Lady Elizabeth was yet in residence and been disappointed. So, when he found her on the road, it is not at all surprising that he should ride back to make the visit he had hoped for."

  "But it will be dark if he stays to visit. Will he ride back to London in the dark?" Gage asked.

  "No," Dorothy Stafford said, rolling her eyes. "He doubtless has a house or a lodge only a mile or two from the manor."

  Alice Finch nodded. "Yes, it is very strange. Lord Denno seems to have a lodging very near all of Lady Elizabeth's manors."

  Blanche Parry, who sat as far back in the wagon as she could so as to give the least offense with her presence to the high-born ladies, looked down at the jewel box safely cradled on her lap. She did not smile, but inside her head bubbles of mirth rose. She could easily imagine what had been said in the few moments of earnest talk before Sir Edward joined her Bessie and Lord Denno. "Where have you been?" Elizabeth would have snarled at her long-suffering lover, and he would have made some gentle rejoinder, reminding her of how terrible their meeting at Court had been.

  Poor Bessie, she had wept so hard in Blanche's arms after her maid of honor was deep-spelled in sleep. Not seeing her Denno was terrible, she had sobbed, but seeing him where foul-minded and loose-tongued courtiers watched her every word and glance was far worse. She did not dare even seek a quiet corner to converse with one they would consider a common merchant so she was unable to truly speak to him or smile at him or touch him. Denno would remind her, Blanche thought, that Elizabeth herself had told him she could not bear such meetings and told him not to return.

  In fact, for once Blanche was wrong about what had passed between Elizabeth and Denoriel. She had wasted no time in quarreling. Too aware of the armsmen who had seen her rush to him and aware that any with keen hearing would catch some of their exchange across the too-small width of the road, Elizabeth had said, "Denno! I did not know you were back. How long have you been in England?"

  He, with his back to the armsmen, had asked softly, "Will you come Underhill tonight?"

  His eyes were as bright a green as the finest emerald touched by sunlight. Elizabeth had a double vision—of her Denno in the mortal world worn by years of watching over her and of her lover Underhill, smooth-skinned and golden-haired. How she loved them both. She laughed aloud but ducked her head so her lips would be hidden from the watching men and her voice was only a murmur.

  "I am so eager—" through gritted teeth "—that if you do not come I swear I will build a Gate myself," and then, louder, she asked, "Will you not come back to Ashridge with us?"

  "Yes, I will." And more softly, "I think your new ladies should see how much at ease I am in your household."

  "Yes, they should. Even Gardiner cannot make your visit a crime. Everyone knows you have no interest in politics."

  "Good. I have some pretty trinkets for you from the voyage also."

  That was when Sir Edward rode up, and Denoriel explained that he had a rumor from the Court that Lady Elizabeth would be leaving to take up residence in Ashridge. Naturally, since he was just back from a trading voyage and had a bag-full of trinkets for his lady and her ladies, he had ridden out to Ashridge. He had been at his lodge for two days and then decided he had better return to London to discover if the rumor had changed.

  "And so here I am. And Lady Elizabeth has just asked if I would ride back to Ashridge—to make my visit after all."

  Elizabeth laughed aloud and Sir Edward smiled. He hoped there would be no attack on the road, but if there were, he was doubly happy to have Lord Denno's skilled sword in their party.

  Sir Edward had been appalled when he was told of the attempts on the queen's life while Elizabeth was beside her. He had at once applied to the chancellor for the right to assign guards to Lady Elizabeth. His request had been refused angrily, the chancellor saying that Elizabeth was in no danger; it was Queen Mary who had been attacked. Sir Edward knew better, but he could not prove it.

  Now Sir Edward joined Nyle at the head of the cavalcade. "Be wary," he warned.

  Arriving at the Gate in Avalon, Harry swept his hair back from the blue star that blazed on his forehead. The four knights, armored and with their visors obscuring their faces, looked at his companions.

  "You know us," Mechain said sharply.

  "No, maybe they do not," Elidir suggested in a reasonable voice. "Likely they were not born when we still came regularly to Oberon's Court."

  "Oh, very well. I am Mechain and he is Elidir. We are both of Elfhame Elder-Elf."

  "You are recognized . . . And most welcome."

  There was a definite note of surprise in the somewhat hollow voice that appeared to come from the air about the middle of the Gate platform. Often the Sidhe of Elfhame Elder-Elf had lived too long. Because there was nothing new for them, nothing to keep their minds alert, they drifted off into Dreaming and eventually ceased being. Harry had changed that for most of the older Sidhe. One way and another, between mortal curiosity and love of meddling, he had involved them in challenging and dangerous projects and they had come alive.

  As Harry stepped off the Gate platform Lady Aeron, Phylyr, and Gogonedd appeared. All three mounted and set out across the white-starred mosslike ground cover toward Avalon.

  "Welcome?" Elidir repeated. "Are we likely to be welcome?"

  Mechain made a indeterminate noise that was not an answer, and Harry looked up at the palace, which changed frequently. Today it seemed to be made of slightly translucent mother-of-pearl. Light from within a myriad of lacy minarets stirred pale gleams of gold, of rose, of soft blue within the walls. From the tallest, central tower, Oberon's black and gold banner flew.

  Harry sighed. "He is here. I sort of hoped . . . I don't know whether we will be welcome. I'm sure he would have been pleased to know we had cleared Alhambra of evil, but not knowing where it went?" He sighed again. "He isn't going to be pleased that we waited so long to tell him about it, that's for sure."

  "Let's get it over with," Mechain said.

  One stride after Mechain spoke, the elvensteeds were at the broad steps of the palace. Harry dismounted and then stood still, looking doubtfully down at what appeared to be mother-of-pearl steps and then at his sturdy boots. In the mortal world, mother-of-pearl was fragile. However, Elidir and Mechain had started up the stair without cracking anything; they were heavier than he, and their boots were as sturdy.

  He followed them through the tall central doors and along a gracious corridor to another pair of wonderfully decorated golden doors, before which, quite suddenly, there was a tall, elegant Sidhe whose silver hair trailed down his back and over his shoulders in shining waves. He smiled at the elder Sidhe and bowed.

  "Elidir. Mechain. What a pleasure it is to see you here."

  "So, Lord Ffrancon, you are still serving Oberon," Elidir said.

  "Yes indeed. You laughed at me once because I had no time for pleasure, but I have no time to grow bored either."

  Mechain laughed. "And we have grown old enough, at last, to come to your way of thinking. But it took a mortal to teach us. Can you find time for us to speak to King Oberon? Harry has news."

  "And it may not be welcome news," Elidir said flatly.

  "A private meeting?" Lord Ffrancon suggested.

  "Perhaps that would be best," Elidir agreed.

  Harry said nothing. If a great Evil had been loosed Underhill it was his fault. He was the one who had suggested clearing the evil from Alhambra and El Dorado, not leaving those wonderful domains in the grip of the Bright Court's enemies. The elder Sidhe had risen to the challenge and helped him, but it was his idea, his fault.

  The elder Sidhe might be reprimanded, but Oberon would do them no harm, except perhaps banish them to their lovely (and very boring) elfhame and tell them to stay there. But he . . . He could be s
ent back to the mortal world. The elfshot poison had been completely leached from his body. He had not felt ill or needed to ask Mwynwyn's help in a long time. If so, he could survive in the mortal world. But who would he be? What would he do?

  The thought of being driven out of Underhill was terrible to him. From the first time he had come here with Denno, he had been enchanted by the place. He loved the silver twilight coming from the star-spangled sky that held no sun, no moon, the lawns of dark moss with their tiny white flowerlets, the faintly perfumed air. He even loved the swirling and dangerous mists of the Unformed lands and the ugly, inimical domains. And Lady Aeron . . . if he were banished, he would lose Lady Aeron!

  A faint snort sounded in his mind, and his spirits lifted. Lady Aeron, like any other elvensteed, was her own law. If she wished to come to him in the mortal world, she would. Then Harry reminded himself that the duke of Richmond was dead, long enough dead that it was likely no one would recognize him.