The Flawed Mistress (The Summerville Journals) (10 page)

   
"Louisa," I said softly, "he does love me, as I love him, but
not in that way."

   
"So because you have been his mistress you are not good enough to be is
wife, is that it?"

   
I looked at her with a feeling of defeat.  It seemed there would be one
more person who would have to know my secret, one more person I would have to
trust with the worst horror of my life.

   
"I have never been his mistress, Louisa," I replied at last. 
She looked startled and a little grin appeared on her lips.  She obviously
did not believe me.  "It is true, my dear.  I am not capable of
being any man's wife or mistress because of what was done to me when I was a
child, by that same man whose body lies burnt to a crisp in the wine cellar of
the old house."  I sighed heavily and caught her gaze. 
"When we took you from the orphanage, it was not adoption that was on his
mind."

   
I watched her eyes widen in sudden comprehension as though I had given clarity
to a puzzle she had been trying to solve for years.  She did not ask
questions, just came and knelt beside me, putting her arms around me.

   
"And that is what you saved me from?"  She asked
hesitantly.  "I knew you had saved me from something, you and Lucy,
but I never realised exactly what before."

   
I nodded slowly, knowing I need say no more.

   
"Then you and His Lordship really are only friends?"  She asked
at last.

   
"Yes.  He rescued
me,
he saved me from being
sold in marriage to men who wanted only one thing, who cared nothing for my
pain, only for my beauty.  Of course I love him and shall always be
grateful, but now things have changed.  Now the people in the village and
the tenants on the estate resent me, they believe I am preventing their Lord's
happiness and I know I would be preventing Her Ladyship's should she ever find
out about me.  I must go away, for her sake."

   
"But, if she understood."

   
"No!"  I shook my head vehemently.  "They are my
secrets, Louisa.  His Lordship has kept up the pretence for years for my
sake, as has Lucy.  I expect no less of you."

   
She nodded and squeezed my hand.

   
"As you wish, My Lady.
  We will do as you
wish."

   
I sent a message to Anthony, requesting that he ask Richard to call on me if he
should come back, but I was not expecting him.  I wanted to secure his
agreement before selling my house, but if he did not appear then I knew I did
not need it.  He would respect my wishes no matter what I did.

   
But a week after the coronation and late one evening, he appeared at my door.

   
"I got your message, Rachel," he said, kissing me
affectionately.  "I would have called in anyway, you know that."

   
"How was London?" 
I asked at once.  I had not realised just how anxious I had been to know
how Lady Summerville had survived the catholic court.  "Did Bethany do well
there?"

   
"I have brought her home," he said with a shake of his head. 
"If Queen Mary had not been so short sighted, and so distracted with her
plans, it could have been an unparalleled disaster."

   
"Oh, Richard," I said, my hand on his shoulder. 
"Why?  What happened?"

   
"What happened was what I feared would happen.  Her dislike of the
Queen was obvious, at least it was to me, and when required to kiss her hand I
was afraid she might wipe her mouth afterward."  He sipped his wine
for a minute before he went on.  "I did not think she would be safe
there.  Mary might not notice, but someone would, someone who understands
human expressions and body language."

   
"Will you keep her here then?"

   
"She tells me she is with child, so if that is true it will be a good
motive for her to stay away, at least for now."

   
I looked at him in silence for a moment, quite shocked at what he was implying.

   
"Why do you doubt her word?"  I asked with a frown. 
"Why would she say she is with child if she is not?"

   
He looked guilty for a moment before he explained.

   
"Because when she first arrived at court, I thought it might be a good
idea to try to drive a wedge between us."

   
"Why on earth would you do that?"

   
"I thought she might be in less danger of getting hurt if she was not
quite so much in love with me."  He sat down and looked up at me like
a naughty schoolboy.  "I said something about it being past time she
conceived."

   
"Oh, Richard!"

   
"Yes, I know.  But do you know what she did?  My words were
meant to hurt her, meant to make her think less of me, but she turned to me and
she said:  'are you anxious to get back to your mistresses, My
Lord?'  And as well as my words hurting her, she managed to find words to
hurt me.  And I have no idea why that should be.  I suppose it was
her thinking that of me that hurt or perhaps it was that I could see I had
distressed her."

   
"Richard, you have been many things to me, but I never took you for a
fool," I told him angrily.  "You have found something special
and precious and you want to throw it away to save yourself some inconvenience. 
I am ashamed of you."

   
"I share your sentiments.  I fear for her safety, so she must stay
here.  I just do not know what to tell the Queen.  She wants my wife
to serve her as a lady in waiting.  I cannot allow that."

   
"She may forget about it until after the birth," I assured him. 
"It is wonderful news, My Lord."

   
"It is, though quite unexpected and a little too convenient."

   
"I do not think she would lie to you," I replied.  "You
love each other too much for that, no matter what foolish plan you had to drive
her away."

   
His eyes caught mine for a few moments and he frowned.

   
"Love each other?"

   
"Yes.  If you did not love her, those words of hers would not have
hurt."

   
He stared at me as though I spoke a foreign language and I watched a light of
recognition suddenly dawn in his eyes, then he gave an abashed smile.

   
"I have felt a certain something when I kissed her that I have never felt
before, not with any of the women I have ever kissed."

   
I laughed a little, thinking about my one kiss with the King of England, though
I could not see anything to laugh at.  The memory still disgusted me.

   
"I cannot really comment on that, Richard" I told him.  "I
have only been kissed once, and it was not a pleasant experience.  His
mouth was wet and his breath stank."

   
He frowned with concern then took my hand.

   
"Would you like to be?"  He asked suddenly.  "Kissed,
I mean?  I am told I am rather good at it."

   
I could not help but laugh, but I suddenly thought I should take this
opportunity, that it was not one that would present itself a second time. 
I trusted this man, trusted him not to try to take it further, and I cannot
deny that I had wondered what his wife felt when I watched her almost melt into
his arms.

   
I did not reply but I moved toward him, my lips reaching up to meet his. 
He pulled me toward him gently and this kiss was nothing like that one I had
shared with the King.  This man's lips knew how to give instead of take.

   
It was nice, comfortable, but there was no passion in me, none at all.

   
Then I felt him stir and I froze in horror, causing him to pull quickly away.

   
"Forgive me," he said at once, jumping to his feet, and he looked at
me with so much compassion in his eyes I wanted to cry.  "It just is
not there, is it?"

   
"What?"

   
"
That need
, that joy.  Those things were
stolen from you and I would kill those men myself were they not already
dead."

   
I got to my feet and hugged him, suddenly grateful to King Henry for sending
this man to be my escort all those years ago.

   
"Richard," I said at once.  "I need to leave this
place.  I want to sell the house and move far away, where nobody knows
me."

   
He held me away from him to frown at me.

   
"Why?  What has happened?"

   
"What has happened is that my role is different now.  These people in
the village and on the estate, they love Bethany. 
I am no longer the beautiful mistress making their lord happy, I am now the
wicked other woman keeping him away from his wife."

   
"But, they cannot simply change like that.  How can you say they love
Bethany? 
They do not know her."

   
"For a man who is so perceptive, you can be such a fool sometimes," I
told him with a laugh.  "Every single person who sees you together
loves her because they love you and they can all see that she is making you
happy.  They want you to have that heir to Summerville, a son that they
can love as much as they love you.  They do not believe that will ever
happen while I am in the background."

   
He shifted uncomfortably and started to argue.

   
"But I do not want you to go.  You will be alone again,
unprotected."

   
"I have wealth now, thanks to you.  I no longer need to sell myself
to anyone just to be able to eat.  If I do not go, one day Lady
Summerville will learn about me living so close and she will be
devastated."

   
"Very well," he said after a few minutes.  "You have the
money.  I will ask Anthony to see about selling this place for you and if
you need more, you have only to ask.  Just promise me one thing,
Rachel, that
you will not disappear again."

   
"I promise."

   
"I want to know that you will still call me your friend, you will still
call on me if you need anything at all."

   
"And I want you to promise me that you will love her as she loves
you.  Promise me that you will be happy."

   
So Louisa and I moved away, closer to London,
where nobody knew us, where nobody would resent me for being Lord Summerville's
mistress.  From the day we moved there was gossip in the new village, but
I kept my black velvet cloak about me when I left the house and Louisa put it
about that I was recently widowed and heartbroken.  People were
sympathetic and left me alone and that is how it stayed until the autumn of
1554, when Richard came to visit for the first time.

   
I was so pleased to see him but he no longer looked happy.

   
"I am sorry to bring my troubles to your door," he said at once,
"but I really need your advice."

   
"You have a little daughter, I hear, My Lord," I said at once.

   
"I do," he replied finally, smiling at the image of his daughter that
had appeared in his mind.  "You were right as usual; I should not
have doubted her."

   
"Are you disappointed that the child was a girl?"

   
He thought for a moment then shook his head decisively.

    
"No, I am not.  I married solely for a son, I had it all arranged how
things would be, but now all I care about is that my daughter is healthy and my
wife is safe.  And that is why I have come, why I need your advice."

     "Go
on," I prompted him, handing him the goblet. 

     Louisa
was standing and smiling and she curtsied briefly.

     "It
is good to see you again, My Lord," she said quietly.

    
"And you, Louisa," he replied with a smile.  "I trust you
are looking after your mistress?"

   
She grinned then backed out of the room while I turned back to him.

   
"The Queen has not forgotten, it
seems,
that she
wanted the Countess of Summerville for a lady in waiting."  His eyes
met mine and I shivered at the fear in them.  "I have no idea what to
do."

CHAPTER
TEN

   
The idea that formed in my mind was simple enough, but where it came from I
cannot imagine.  Ever since I met Richard I had wanted to do something for
him, something to repay him for everything he had given me, but what I was about
to propose was dangerous for us both.  The question was
,
would it be more dangerous to allow Bethany
to attend Queen Mary as a lady in waiting?

   
"You once told me," I began thoughtfully, "that your wife
resembled me."

   
"She does," replied, giving me a puzzled frown. 
"Why?"

   
"And you say the Queen did not really see her, that people at court did
not really notice her at the coronation?  That was a year ago now in any
case."

   
"What are you getting at, Rachel?"

   
"I was just wondering how it would be if I took her place."

   
He looked at me as though he believed me insane, and perhaps he was right, but
he started to shake his head slowly.

   
"I cannot allow you to do that," he said.  "It would be far
too dangerous.  Supposing somebody found out?"

   
"There is no reason why they should and it will be dangerous for both of
us; I realise that.  But what else can you do?  Do you have a better
suggestion?"

   
He made no reply, just sat sipping his wine and frowning thoughtfully.  I
knew he thought it a good idea from a practical point of view but I also knew
he did not want to put me in danger.

   
"I cannot believe you would do that for me," he said at last.

   
"I would do anything for you, Richard," I said softly taking his
hand.  "You have given me a life, something I would never have had
had I not met you.  If I can protect both you and your wife from exposure,
then I will consider it an honour."

   
I was concerned that Lady Summerville might find out, might learn that there
was another woman living with her husband at court and impersonating her, but
Richard assured me it was unlikely. 

   
"She loves to stay at Summerville, she loves to be with Alicia," he
said, "even if it does mean being away from me.  I think she is
afraid of the Queen and she is afraid of saying the wrong thing. And she was
not raised in the same social circles as me; it is unlikely that anyone at
court would recognise her. If we are careful there is no reason why anyone
should find out."

   
So I became Queen Mary's lady in waiting, along with a few others, most of whom
were totally devoted to her.  These ladies agreed with every barbaric
policy she chose to make, they all thought her very wise to be torturing and
burning evil heretics.  This was a subject much talked about within the
Queen's private chambers, and each time it was she became more animated with
the overpowering responsibility.

   
"It seems that no matter how hard I try, more heretics appear," she
cried in frustration.  "You would have thought they would know that
God wants them to recant, for look what He has done to prove it!"

   
So she believed, as her father had before her, that every thought, every idea
that entered her head had to come straight from God because she was the Queen.

   
I managed to murmur agreement, but I was more adept at hiding my distaste than Bethany would have been,
as I was not one of those protestants that were being persecuted, she was. I
knew every time I heard this speech, that I was doing the right thing.

   
Richard's protestant wife would never have been able to withstand this talk and
keep quiet, much less pretend agreement. I tried to imagine how it would be for
her, knowing that the evil heretics Mary was ordering to their deaths were her
own family and friends.

   
We were all supposed to be ecstatic about Mary's marriage to Prince Philip of Spain, and the
other ladies were, but my joy was merely a sham.  I had never realised
what a good actress I was.

   
When the Queen announced her intention to marry, Richard decided it was time
for him to pay a visit to his wife.

   
"I want to go home for a few days," he told me.  "I am
expecting a few rebellions over this marriage and I want to see my wife, just
in case something happens to me."

   
His words sent a chill of apprehension through me, but we set out, me for my
own house, him for Suffolk. 
I knew she would be delighted to see him, even though he had not told her he
was coming, and that pleased me.

   
Keeping up the pretence was hard, but no harder than having to share chambers
with Richard.  The servants had to see that we shared a bed and although I
trusted him completely to keep to his own side, for him it was very difficult.

   
He slept on the trundle bed which disappeared beneath the main one during the
day.  He ordered that the servants were not to come into our suite until
summoned, so they would not start to gossip about the handsome Lord Summerville
and his beautiful wife who did not share a bed.

   
"I hate to see you sleeping on that thing," I told him one night when
he pulled the trundle bed out in preparation for his night's sleep. 
"Why not come in here. It is much more comfortable and I trust you
completely to stay on your own side."

   
He stood and looked at me and a little sparkle danced in his eyes.

   
"You may trust me, Rachel," he said, "but I cannot share your
confidence in me. I do not think, given such close proximity, I would trust
myself."

***

   
When a letter came from his cousin telling him that Bethany knew about me, that he had been
forced to tell her, I believed that would make him return home and
explain.  I even had my clothes packed, ready to keep up the pretence of
going to Summerville, when in reality I would be deposited at my own house in
Finsbury along the way.  But I was wrong.

   
"You have to explain now, Richard," I told him.  "Do you
not see that?  What must she be thinking?"

   
"She will be thinking that I love someone else, that I am keeping that
someone else at court in her place because I am in love with her."

   
"Precisely.
  You have to tell her the
truth."

   
"No.  If I do that, she will have to know the real truth.  Are
you prepared for that?"

   
My
secrets, my private pain was
what he spoke of.

   
"If that is what it takes," I replied doubtfully.

   
He smiled,
then
took my hand.

   
"No, you do not want that.  It is better this way."

   
"How can it be better?  How can it be better for her to be
unhappy?"

   
"I am very much afraid that if I tell her, she will not believe me. 
She will be even
more unhappy
, thinking that I have
not only betrayed her but have lied to her as well.  I will think on it,
decide what
is the best way to handle things
."

   
"That is of less importance than that she knows you are not risking
everything for my sake.  Even if she believes we are lovers, she must be
made to see that you do this for her."

   
"As I said, I will think on it.  It may be better if she thinks I am
unfaithful; she will think less of me and that cannot be a bad thing."

   
"No?  I cannot think of a worse thing."  I marched toward
the door, intending to leave him to make a sensible decision.  "You
are a fool, Richard.  I have no patience with you."

***

   
Try as I might, I could not convince him to go home and tell his wife the
truth, even if he did have to tell her my secret.  I had never realised
before just how determined he could be once he had made up his mind, but I
could not understand why he would think it a good thing to drive away the woman
he loved.

   
Then one day we had been driving in the park and there was a dispatch from the
prison on our return, listing the names of the executed for that day.  I
know he hated being entrusted with these lists, that each day they got longer,
but he had
a pretence
to keep up as well.  This
day he sank down into the chair with an exclamation of dismay. 

   
"What is it?"  I asked.

   
"Bethany's
sister is on this list," he told me soberly.  "She will blame
me."

   
"Why should she blame you?  Did you arrest her?  Did you condemn
her?"

   
"She ran away because of me," he said quietly.  When I looked
puzzled he went on.  "Do you remember that day when you saw her in my
house?"

   
"Of course," I replied, wondering where this was leading. 
"It was the day you told me you planned to make a proposal to her
sister.  I remember scolding you about it."

   
"Well, it seems it was not simply a casual afternoon of passion after all.
I have a son, Rachel," he said quietly.  "I saw him a few weeks
ago when I was watching some heretics. I thought I had saved her;
  I
sent a warning, but it seems they did not listen. I
did not know before that why she had run away, but now it all makes
sense."  He looked so sad I wanted to reach out to him, but something
told me he would not welcome it.  "Yes, she will blame me."

   
"But Bethany
does not know why she ran away, does she?"

   
"She does.  She went to find her; that is why Anthony had to tell her
about you, because she was determined to come to court and confront me with
it."

   
That is when I got angry with him again.  Why could he not see what damage
he was causing?

   
"There is only one way to find out," I said.  "Are you
going home, to tell her about her sister?"

   
"No," he answered.  "If she has not heard, let her have the
comfort of not knowing."

   
Perhaps if he had taken the time to go and tell her in person, to comfort her
as a husband should, none of what followed would ever have happened.  Who
knows?

   
"Are you not even going home to your wife at Christmas,
Richard?"  I pleaded.  "You have not seen her or your
daughter for many months.  You are missing so much of her life."

   
"I think it would be better for Bethany
if I kept my distance, just for now."

   
"What?  Why?"

   
"I feel it would be better for her.  She believes I have a mistress
here at court, she will only resent my intrusion into her life."

   
"Rubbish!"

   
"Please, Rachel," he said softly, "let me do this my own
way.  The more you and I leave court on family trips, the more likelihood
there is of someone finding out about us.  Then where will any of us
be?"

   
But he was unhappy, desperately unhappy with the whole situation and that tore
at my heart.  Now he did not even have the dalliances that he had had with
Rosemary, for the whole palace believed his wife to be here at his side. 
He could have found company, but he made no attempt to and I thought I knew
why.

   
It was almost a year before he wanted to make the trip.

   
"Can we go tomorrow, just for a day or two," he asked one
evening.  "I have told Mary that my wife is anxious to see her
child."

   
"She accepted that?"

   
"She did.  She is very jealous because she has no child herself, and
now does not want to see either of us until she has got over it."  He
laughed at his own wit.  Mary had said no such thing, but Richard knew
exactly how her mind worked.  "I need to go home, Rachel.  I
need to see my daughter, and more than that I need Bethany.  If all I wanted was a warm bed
and a willing partner, I need only walk a few paces.  But that is not
enough; only Bethany
can satisfy me now."

   
I reached out to touch his arm and he turned and looked at me with a look of
sheer dismay, as though shocked by his own emotions.

   
"I love her, Rachel," he said.  "I wish I had met her at
another time, after all this turmoil.  I wish I could tell the Queen I was
going home for good."

   
"Have you tried?"

   
"I have hinted, but she will not allow it.  She likes to keep her
loyal servants close and she has no reason to understand my need to return to
Summerville.  After all, my wife is here.  She even asked the other
day why I did not bring my child as well."

   
I gave him an enquiring look in reply.

   
"I told her I did not want Alicia exposed to the air of London," he said.  "I thought
it was a good answer."

   
So we left London together and at Finsbury we stopped at an inn, where I
boarded another carriage to take me home to my own house, while he carried on
to Suffolk. I could see he was looking forward very much to seeing his wife
again and I was quite sure she would welcome him into her bed whether she
believed him or not.

   
I hoped and prayed that he would make his wife understand about me without giving
away my secrets, but somehow it did not seem possible.  I would have to
trust her with my most private memories.

   
I was glad of the respite away from the palace.  I found it a strain
beyond belief to listen to the ardent catholic talk in the Queen's chambers, to
murmur agreement. The other ladies voiced their opinions, each one agreeing
with Mary's of course, but I hoped I was giving the impression of the very
quiet and shy Lady Summerville who merely did her duties to perfection and said
little.

   
It was a relief to be home with Louisa.  She knew what was happening, she
had to, but I trusted her completely. 

   
So I spent two blissful days in my own house, wondering if I had done the right
thing by volunteering for this role at all.  I thought it would make
Richard happy, give him peace of mind, but instead it seemed that he was in
even more turmoil than before.