Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss
Arabella pressed a trembling hand to her throat. “Is he in danger?”
“When has he not been in danger?” Elise countered.
“Tell me he is safe!” Arabella demanded in a breathless whisper. “He must be safe!”
Elise smiled sadly. “I cannot assure you of anything, Arabella, least of all his safety.”
W
HITEHALL
P
ALACE
was a formidable structure with its thousand or so rooms, but the massive gardens, orchards, tennis courts, and tiltyard built during the reign of the late king were equally resplendent amid the color of the budding spring blossoms. Elise allowed herself a moment to enjoy the heady fragrance of the flowers as she climbed the stairs from the river, but it was not a day when she could savor anything for too long. Her audience with the Queen was only moments away, and though she struggled to attain a mood of tranquillity, the turmoil roiling within her had naught to do with contentment and peace. She had framed her words a thousand or more times in her mind, for she feared the moments ahead would see her spilling them in reckless disorder from her tongue.
She had taken some care to dress, for it was secretly rumored that Elizabeth loathed any woman who sported better finery than she. Thus she had donned a plain black velvet gown with a white lace ruff and allowed her only adornment to be the strands of pearls with their ruby-encrusted clasp. A pert attifet was worn over her carefully dressed hair, giving her a stylish, but somber, mien.
Nearly a week had passed since she had first requested an audience with the royal sovereign, and she was in a state of anxious fretting, wondering where Maxim was, while at the same time far too aware of where Nicholas was being kept.
She was escorted down long hallways, through arched doorways nearly twice as tall as she, and finally into an antechamber where she was to await her summons to the Queen's private chambers. Lord Burghley, Elizabeth's principal minister, came to inquire as to the nature of her visit, and Elise, hardly able to subdue the quiver in her voice, stated her cause. Satisfied with her answer, the man left her, and a short time later a lady-in-waiting came to fetch her. Elise composed herself as she was ushered into the presence of the sovereign monarch. She sank into a deep curtsey as the attendants were excused with a regal gesture, all except for the ancient Blanche Parry whose loyal service to the noble person of the Queen had begun when Elizabeth was but a babe.
“Come, stand yourself up so I can look at you,” Elizabeth bade with authoritative dispensation.
In gracious compliance Elise straightened and submitted herself to the close scrutiny of the dark, grayish-black eyes, while permitting herself a like assessment. The Queen sat in regal splendor in a large, ornately carved chair close to the windows where the diamond-tipped pearl teardrops and precious jewels that adorned her flame-red wig twinkled with reflected light. The brightness of the hairpiece struck a sharp contrast to the startling whiteness of her skin. The forehead was of a woman two
score, ten and two years of age, but it was high and proud, though nearly plucked void of brows. The nose was long and aquiline with little indentation across the bridge, and the gray-black eyes were keenly perceptive.
“You are Sir Ramsey Radborne's daughter,” Elizabeth finally said and smiled pleasantly, putting the younger woman more at ease.
“I am Elise Madselin Radborne, your majesty, only child of Sir Ramsey.”
“You are no doubt wondering why I've summoned you into my private chambers . . .” Elizabeth paused briefly to await a polite response and, when gratified, explained, “You've become somewhat of a curiosity among my councillors and courtiers. They're ever chittering about this one or that one, and on occasion, I like to indulge myself by keeping them uninformed while I'm made privy to the facts. âTis rumored you were kidnapped by Maxim Seymour, the Marquess of Bradbury, taken to Hamburg, and held as his hostage.” Her long, tapering fingers, affixed with many rings, drummed on the elaborately carved arms of her chair, demonstrating her annoyance over the affair. “That rogue. I shall be enchanted to hear him talk his way out of this.”
Elise wisely held her silence on the matter of their marriage, having heard many a tale about the Queen's venging reprisals against those among her nobility who had dared marry without her consent. Had Elizabeth not sent the Lady Katherine Grey Seymour to the tower for marrying without her permission and allowed the young mother to die in
want of a pardon? Though the Queen had condemned Maxim to death, Elise still hoped for some leniency, some spark of regret that would move the woman to retract her order. It would be foolish indeed to jeopardize that hope by revealing news of their marriage. And if Maxim decided he loved Arabella more than she, a quiet annulment could be achieved better if the Queen had no knowledge of the marriage.
“Actually, your majesty, my abduction was a mistake unwittingly carried out by Lord Seymour's servants.”
The slender hand slapped the wooden arm as derisive laughter filled the chamber. “And would you have me believe that to be true? You're no doubt smitten with the man if you seek to excuse his crimes.”
“Lord Seymour is a handsome man. Any woman would be attracted to him,” Elise confessed, and the Queen calmed and nodded in agreement, appreciating her honesty. “Nevertheless, what I say can be verified by my uncle, Edward Stamford. He was there in the hall the night Lord Seymour came to taunt him about stealing his properties from him with a lie.”
“I've heard the Marquess's protests,” Elizabeth acknowledged, unmoved by her guest's comments. “As yet, I've seen no proof of his innocence, but I have oft been reminded of his foul deeds by Edward Stamford.”
“Edward has gained much by accusing him, and at this moment, your majesty, I cannot say whether Lord Seymour is alive or dead. Therefore I don't
know if he's able to come to you with proof of his innocence, but I, for one, am certain he is guiltless.”
The Queen sighed sadly. “If he's dead, then his secrets shall die with him, and his name will be stricken from my memory.”
“I hope that he lives, your majesty,” Elise murmured quietly.
The nearly hairless brows raised in the startlingly pale face, and for a moment Elizabeth presented an aquiline profile to her young guest as she considered a gold-trimmed cuff. “I understand you've also come to plead for the release of the Hanseatic captain whose ship was taken. Is that true?”
“Yea, your majesty,” Elise answered quietly, sensing the monarch's disdain.
“How is it that you come to plead for the Hansa when âtis rumored your father was kidnapped by the league?”
“Captain Von Reijn has a good regard for his English friends and is not guilty of any crimes against them. âTwas Karr Hilliard who kidnapped my father.”
“Are you in love with this Captain Von Reijn?” the Queen pressed.
Elise clasped her hands and bowed her head slightly as she murmured, “Nay, your majesty. He's but a friend.”
“ âTis rumored that Captain Von Reijn was also a friend of Lord Seymour . . . Is this true?”
Elise hesitated, but only briefly, feeling the penetrating gaze of the Queen upon her. It seemed the woman could read her very thoughts, and she dared not provoke her by avoiding the truth. “You've been well-informed, your majesty.”
“Don't coddle me, girl!” Elizabeth snapped, startling Elise with her quick temper. “It has always been my aim to be well-informed.”
Meekly Elise held her silence until the Queen's anger ebbed, and once again she was subjected to a lengthy perusal.
“What is that you wear about your neck?” Elizabeth queried, casually gesturing toward the piece.
Fervently hoping the pearl strands had not become an offense for which she would soon regret, Elise explained, “ âTis a necklace that was found with my mother when she was abandoned as a babe.”
Elizabeth raised her hand and beckoned Elise to come forward. When the girl complied, the Queen stretched out a hand and lifted the jewel-framed enamel to inspect the image more closely, then, turning aside, called for Blanche Parry to draw near. It was not until the aging woman stood before the Queen that Elise realized the elder was nearly blind.
“Is the Countess Dowager of Rutherford among those presently at court?” the Queen questioned Blanche.
The elder answered softly. “Nay, your majesty.”
Elizabeth clasped her hands before her in her lap as she bade the woman, “Then tell Lord Burghley to send out a dispatch bidding Anne to come to the castle. I'm sure she'll be most interested to learn that she has a great-granddaughter living at Sir Ramsey's manor home.”
“The Countess Rutherford?” Elise's mind flew in a flurry as the Queen nodded. “But how can this be?”
“Anne's daughter and grandchild . . . the latter undoubtedly being your mother . . . were seized and held for ransom. The Countess Rutherford was quick to respond to the abductor's plea and sent along the required sum. A short time later the daughter was returned . . . but without the child. It seemed they had been separated, and the woman who had been hired to tend the babe caught a fever. The woman died, unable to tell any where she had taken her, saying only that the girl could be identified by the necklace the child's mother was wearing when she was taken. The mother passed on with the pox some years later, leaving the Countess Rutherford to search for her grandchild. That was years ago, and now I must believe that you are the daughter of that missing girl.”
Elizabeth waved a hand to indicate the necklace Elise was wearing, “That enamel you have hanging about your neck was taken from a portrait of the Countess Rutherford herself, which now hangs in that one's home. I've seen it myself and can verify that the enamel was copied directly from the original.
“I shall arrange for the Countess Rutherford to visit your home as soon as possible,” Elizabeth continued. “She is as ancient as my Blanche here, but she has a good and valiant heart. I'm sure she'll be eager to make your acquaintance. She's alone now, without blood kin. And I'm sure you'll be a pleasure to her.”
“I'd be pleased to know my great-grandmother,” Elise murmured with restrained emotion invading her voice. A sense of elation, eager expectation, and
contentment welled up within her at the idea that she had other, kinder, more caring relatives than the ones she was now acquainted with.
A light rap sounded on the door, and Blanche Parry went to the huge portal to admit a tall, bearded, dark-haired gentleman who crossed the chamber with some urgency. He made a show of obeisance before his Queen, then spoke to her in a confidential whisper as Elise stepped away with quiet diplomacy. When he straightened, Elizabeth lifted a hand to bid the young woman to approach and spoke aside to the man.
“Sir Francis Walsingham, you would be interested in learning that my guest is none other than Sir Ramsey Radborne's daughter. Elise has come to plead for the release of that Hanseatic captain who was taken.”
The tall man faced Elise with some concern. “I knew your father personally . . .”
“Please, Sir Francis, I believe he is still alive . . . at least, I continue to hope he is. I cannot bear to hear you speak of him as if he were in the past.”
“Forgive me, child.” He came forward to take her hands in his. “I have despaired in his long absence from us and become doubtful of the mercy of his captors. I don't mean to be harsh.”
“Sir Francis is most valuable as my Secretary of State,” the Queen explained with a musing smile. “He has a passion for uncovering plots against my life . . . and I'm ever amazed at his findings. âTwas in the
kontors
of the Stilliard one was purported to have spawned. Your father was set to uncover its source when he was seized.”
Elise received the news in some amazement. “I was told he went there on a private mission to sell his possessions.”
“ âTwas but a ruse to give him an excuse to visit their
kontors,
my dear. I've heard of this treasure he purportedly collected, but I seriously doubt its existence.” Sir Francis clasped his hands behind his back and strode to the windows where he gazed out for a thoughtful space of time. “I've just now received word that there was, indeed, a plot against the Queen instigated in the Stilliards.” He faced Elise and spoke with sincerity. “Therefore, I must plead with you to give up your cause for the release of this Hanseatic captain. âTis my thought the man deserves none of your charity.”
“If a conspiracy was found to exist among some members of the Hansa, that does not mean all of the captains and merchants were involved.” Elise appealed to the Secretary's sense of justice. “Captain Von Reijn helped us to escape Lubeck when Karr Hilliard and the Hansa were seeking to kill us. He has been a close friend of the English. If I allowed him to be executed or to rot away in Newgate without making an attempt to set him free, I could not live with myself. His only crime is that I was aboard his ship, and that is the only reason Captain Sinclair seized the captain and his ship. Forgive me, Sir Francis, for I can do nothing less than plead his cause. I'm convinced that Captain Von Reijn was unjustly taken and is being unfairly detained.”
“Perhaps the man I have waiting in the antechamber will be able to clear this matter up. I'm sure you're acquainted with him, my dear, and will
be relieved to know he is alive.” He faced Elizabeth. “The gentleman is awaiting your permission to see you, your majesty. I thought you would want to do so privily . . . to decide his fate . . .”
“So! The rogue dares come lay his neck upon my blade and await my judgment, eh! . . . Or does he expect my pardon?” She waved a hand officiously. “Bid that scoundrel enter and let me hear him plead for mercy!”
Sir Francis swept her a bow and returned to the portal. Stepping aside as he swung it open, he announced grandly, “The Marquess of Bradbury, your majesty.”