Fire Raven (21 page)

“Aye, I believe so, Your Majesty.”

“You believe so?” The queen’s lips twitched, and Kat realized her crusty heart held a soft spot for the pretty redhead. “Because of your bereaved state, I am prepared to listen, m’dear, but make it swift. I feel far from patient today.”

“Aye, Your Majesty.” The redhead raised a teary gaze to her liege and said, “I have cause to believe this woman is my sister.”

She gestured at Kat, who saw the queen’s keen regard shift to her.

“Y’are certain, child?”

Mistress Tanner nodded. “I have no doubts, Your Grace.”

Elizabeth did not speak again but merely nodded and returned her questioning gaze to the redhead. Taking a deep breath, Mistress Tanner continued her tale:

“Nigh two months ago, my parents received word one of our ships was lost at sea. They sent notice to me at Whitehall, Your Majesty may recall.” When Elizabeth nodded again, Mistress Tanner appeared heartened.

“The ship that sank was the
Fiach Teine
. ’Tis Gaelic for ‘Fire Raven.’ ’Twas captained by my sister Katherine, who we all dubbed “Kat” with great affection.”

Mistress Tanner turned and looked directly at Kat. “All hands were reported lost. I just returned from Ireland and the mass wake that was held there for my beloved sister and her crew.”

Kat stared at the redhead. She saw convincing tears flow unchecked from the woman’s eyes at the telling of the incredible story. She tried to remember something as Mistress Tanner spoke; other than a brief flash of the red-headed man drowning, her mind was disturbingly blank. No answers or excuses came to her lips. She summoned no emotion, save pity for this poor creature, whose mind was obviously unhinged due to grief. Apparently Elizabeth deduced the same thing.

“Dear Mary,” the queen said kindly, “I barely remember Katherine myself, as she was hardly prone to appear at Court, yet I do recall her a willful sort, given to wearing men’s garb and oft behaving in untoward ways. Katherine favored your mother’s people, the O’Neills. Would she have managed such a graceful obeisance as this lady? Methinks not. As much as you loved your twin, m’dear, you must admit Katherine had not a drop of manners. She was all Irish and twice as stubborn as those folk are wont to be.”

Twin!
Kat heard little more of what Elizabeth said. Her stunned gaze flew back to the woman the queen had called “Mary.”

“Please, Your Majesty. I know not why Kat does not remember me, but I know of others who can verify her identity. Uncle Kit, for one.”

“Very well, child,” Elizabeth soothed the maid, reaching out to pat Mistress Tanner’s fair cheek with visible affection. “Inquiries shall be made, if you wish.” She turned and regarded the earl with some surprise. “Milord Lawrence. I did not recognize you at first. Are you given to frequent Newgate nowadays?”

Lawrence flushed and bowed. “Well met, Your Majesty. ’Tis I who seek to deliver this woman into the custody of the Crown. I have proof she is part of a conspiracy with Spain at the core and brought her here in order to effect a more speedy confession.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Indeed,” she murmured, flicking a glance at the grim stone tower nearby. “Pray tell where you found the woman.”

“Wales, Your Grace. She was in the custody there of a minor Welsh noble of Spanish descent.”

“Ah.” Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully, then turned to scrutinize Kat again. “Have you memory of aught we have spoken of, mistress?”

“Nay,” Kat admitted. “Such speculation only serves to distress me further, Your Majesty. I remember nothing before Wales, though at times I do dream of fire and the sea.” She shivered and met her monarch’s piercing gaze for the first time. “’S’truth, Your Majesty, I know not at all who I am, though I can and will vow I am not part of any conspiracy against the Crown.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips, musing upon the matter.

Lawrence hastily interjected, “Proof, Your Grace, lies in one’s actions. This clever wench pretended to be blind when she was in Wales. As Your Majesty may now note, she appears to see perfectly well.”

“’Twas God’s mercy restored my sight, naught else,” Kat angrily exclaimed. “Those at Falcon’s Lair can confirm my tale.”

“Certainly they shall be given ample opportunity to do so,” Elizabeth said, apparently not taking offense at Kat’s outburst. “Methinks the matter bears further investigation. What say you, Lord Lawrence?”

“Aye, Your Majesty,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Very well. ’Tis settled for now, or until we receive a missive back from Falcon’s Lair.” Elizabeth looked to Mistress Tanner. “Would it please you to bring this woman back to the palace?”

“Oh, aye, Your Majesty. Thank you,” Mistress Tanner cried, seizing the queen’s hand and reverently kissing it. She turned to regard Kat somewhat apprehensively.

“I know you don’t remember me yet, Kat. I vow to be patient until you do. Will you come with me now?”

Kat hesitated. Then she nodded, accepting the hand the redhead held out to her. When the other woman’s fingers laced with hers, she felt a brief, tingling sensation, like the charge in the air before a storm.
Twins. How could it be?
The two of them looked nothing alike. But when she joined Mistress Tanner and the queen’s retinue, Kat’s heart felt lighter than it had in many a day.

“I
STILL CANNOT BELIEVE
it,” Kat said, trailing a finger over the edge of a carnelian-topped table. She occupied her sister’s apartment at Whitehall. Upon the table was a miniature of two young women, painted a year or so ago. One of them was definitely her; there was no mistake.

Kat glanced at the stranger in the mirror for what seemed the hundredth time.

“’Tis but a fantastic dream,” she whispered.

“Believe it you must, dear Kat,” her sister said, suddenly overcome by emotion. She approached with her arms outstretched. When Kat accepted the embrace with obvious hesitation, Mistress Tanner was crestfallen but effected a brave smile.

“How thin y’are, Kat. You’ve been through too much in the past weeks. We must put some meat back on your bones. Now, I insist you rest whilst I summon Jane to see about some suitable clothing.”

Kat glanced down at her sorry attire and nodded. There was no question, her outfit must be a source of embarrassment to her sister. Certainly, she didn’t blame the other ladies when they had politely suggested Kat ride in an open carriage behind the queen’s coach, so as not to offend their monarch with the stench of her soiled skirts.

After Mistress Tanner departed to find her tiring woman, Kat looked curiously around the small apartment. There were only two rooms: one for receiving and the other a bedchamber. Her sister said they would share both. It should prove quite interesting. The bedchamber was half the size of the one she had occupied at Falcon’s Lair, and the redhead had already appropriated every visible inch.

A narrow double bed took up the majority of space in the bedchamber. There was a vanity table with a variety of cosmetics and crystal flagons in evidence and a wardrobe with five drawers. The receiving room contained a small table and the pier glass. A pair of worn velvet chairs flanked the tiny hearth. Other than that, the apartment was quite mean.

Kat had expected much more of a great palace like Whitehall. Could it be their queen was clutch-fisted? She almost laughed aloud; Elizabeth Tudor’s gem-encrusted gowns were anything but plain. Mayhap such frugality only applied to others, Kat thought with a wry smile.

By the time Mistress Tanner returned with her maid servant, she was full of questions again.

“Her Majesty called you ‘Mary.’ Is’t your given name?”

The redhead looked startled for a moment, until she apparently recalled Kat’s loss of memory.

“Nay. My Christian name is Erin Meredith Tanner. My middle name first belonged to our paternal grandmother. In her day, Grandmother was a favorite of the queen and was called Merry, as in good cheer, for her sweet disposition. I am said to resemble her. My godmother, the queen, nicknamed me thus when I was born and it stuck. Even our family calls me Merry now.”

Kat saw why. Merry’s bubbling enthusiasm was infectious.

“What do you do here at Whitehall Palace?”

“I am Mistress of the Music,” Merry said. When Kat chuckled, she added loftily, “’Tis a duty of great importance. Her Grace enjoys playing the virginals from time to time, and I am responsible for keeping her music in order.”

With some difficulty, Kat restrained her amusement. “Whatever do you do with the rest of your time?”

“Oh, the same things all young ladies enjoy. Embroidery, gossip, listening to music, and dancing whenever I can.”

“Not the same things as all young ladies, I fear. Such frivolous notions sound positively dull to me.”

Merry looked scandalized by Kat’s comment. “These activities are considered only proper for a maid at Court. Methinks I should not be surprised by your scorn, though. You always laughed at me for indulging in such pastimes.”

“Did I?” Kat asked with surprise. If she was indeed Katherine Tanner, she realized she was much the same after the tragedy at sea. She apparently had little patience for such trite amusements.

“I envied you, y’know,” Merry reflected. “You were always so outspoken, so brave, so daring. You crossed the sea like a sailor born to it, whilst I still quake at the sight of water. You called me a ninny back then. I must admit, I still am. When father gave you your own ship, I was wildly jealous, though I couldn’t bear to walk a deck myself.”

Merry sighed and shook her head. “Oh, Kat, how I wish Father and Mother knew you were alive. I will send a message to our kin in Ireland, but ’twill be no use trying to reach our parents. They have just sailed again for the Indies, taking the eldest boys with them. The three younger remain with Grandfather O’Neill in Ireland. We have five little brothers, all told.”

“Our parents sail together?” Kat was surprised.

“Aye, both he and she captain their own vessels. Theirs is an unconventional marriage,” Merry said with a faint air of disapproval. “Father being English and Mother Irish made it difficult in the beginning, I understand. Fortunately, Elizabeth Tudor is a just queen.”

O’Neill. Of course. But why the image of a black raven leaped into her mind was beyond Kat’s grasp. She frowned. Then she remembered the amulet she was wearing when Morgan found her. He had also mentioned a tattered flag he’d found with the image of a bird bearing an oak branch. The raven again? The amulet was still at Falcon’s Lair, and the standard, too — assuming Morgan had not discarded or destroyed either one or both.

She pushed aside thoughts of Morgan. She still ached for him, especially at night, but the pain was too fresh to examine as yet. She sought to distract herself. With growing curiosity, she asked Merry, “What of the O’Neills? Do they all live in Ireland?”

“Yea, Kat. Uncle Dan and all his boys — how can you forget your favorite cousin Derry? — live up near Ballycastle. You used to spend summers with them on the farm. Aunt Glynnis said you were a handful.”

“Didn’t you go along to visit them, Merry?”

“Nay.” Merry shook her head. “I asked our parents if I had to, and they said I didn’t. I’m not like you, Kat. I don’t enjoy dirt, wind, or water. Ireland has too much of all three to suit me.” She gave a delicate shudder. “Of course, Grandfather O’Neill lives with Uncle Brendan and Aunt Glynnis on the farm now. He deeded Raven Hall to you when Mother and Father built their own house. You always were his favorite,” Merry added, a trifle wistfully.

“Brann O’Neill,” Kat said, not realizing what she said until Merry seized both her hands with excitement and obvious triumph.

“Aye! You’re starting to remember now, aren’t you?”

“Not really,” Kat said. “A few things are starting to surface, though — mostly flashes of people’s faces, bits and pieces of names.”

Still grasping her sister’s hands in her own, Merry proceeded to pull Kat to the narrow window overlooking the Thames.

“I know how to make you remember,” Merry vowed, dropping one of Kat’s hands in order to point out a row of grand houses on a distant rise. “See the white mansion on the farthest end? The one with the columns?” When Kat nodded, Merry said, “’Tis called Ambergate. It belongs to Uncle Kit, our father’s elder brother. That’s where I spend much of my free time when I’m not at Court.”

Confused, Kat looked at Merry. “Why don’t you live in Ireland, with the rest of the family?”

A slow flush rose on the redhead’s porcelain cheeks.

“Father and Mother said I might come to England,” Merry said defensively, keeping her gaze fixed on the elegant mansion. “They knew how much it meant to me to come to Court and serve our queen. Besides, I wanted to spend more time with Maggie.”

“Maggie?”

“Uncle Kit’s youngest daughter, one of our English cousins.” Merry chattered on, quickly and carelessly. “She’s a dear sister to me, y’see, for we have so much in common — ”

Merry clapped a hand over her mouth, her gray-green eyes widening with dismay. Kat nodded with sudden understanding.

“Whilst you and I don’t,” she concluded. “I understand things better now. Though we shared our mother’s womb, we’re completely different, you and I. You hated living in Ireland, didn’t you?”