Elizabeth also liked Uncle John. The fact that he’d been related to her mother clinched the matter, as Elizabeth had a soft spot for her Boleyn relatives.
Colby was a relation to her as well, but in a much different way. I could never tell her about that.
I gazed around the cozy chamber, the fire crackling in a cheerful way on the hearth. I knew Helene hovered outside the door, waiting to fulfill Grandmother’s every wish, and likely listened to the conversation as well.
“If she dismisses me, may I come and live with you?” I asked wistfully. I had good memories of this place, and it was quiet and sheltered. “Helene can look after both of us.”
Grandmother snorted. “No, you may not. You have a husband now. Let him tuck you into his manor house, which you have just assured me he has. Besides, you’ll bear him children soon, and I told your mother long, long ago that I do not have the vigor to look after a houseful of toddlers.”
“I may visit though, can’t I?” I asked, unwilling to move from the comfortable chair. “I want to see you.”
“Because I am old, and soon it might be too late?” Grandmother asked sagely. “Of course, my dear. You are welcome at any time. I want you to bring this Colby when you come again, so I can look him over. Any children can stay with your Aunt Kat.”
“Of course.” I hid my smile with another sip of wine.
“This house will be yours anyway,” Grandmother surprised me by saying. “Oh, yes. It belongs to me outright, because your grandfather was very clear about who would inherit his properties. Which is why I advised you to have your husband do the same. Your Aunt Kat will be provided for by Elizabeth and her husband for a long time to come, and doesn’t need it. Your Aunt Joan is married to a successful gentleman, and your mother …” Grandmother glanced heavenward. “Well, she has made her bed, and she must lie in it. That leaves you. This house and grounds will be yours. Helene will be pensioned off in her own home, in return for putting up with me, so you will have to find your own housekeeper.”
I could only stare at Grandmother in amazement which quickly softened into gratitude. She, like Elizabeth, loved well, but hated to be caught admitting it.
I plunked down my wine, launched myself from my chair, and bent to catch her in my arms.
“Thank you, Grandmother,” I sobbed. “You have ever been so good to me.”
I felt her start, then her warm, plump arms came around me, her embrace so like Aunt Kat’s.
“None of this, now,” she said softly in my ear. “Someone had to be good to you. Wasn’t likely to be your mother, was it?”
I laughed through my tears as I released her. “Still,” I said. “I am grateful.”
“Sit down and eat them pastries,” Grandmother said sternly. “Helene sent someone all the way to the village for them.”
I wiped my eyes, still smiling, and docilely resumed the chair and my repast.
I returned to Hatfield after spending a few days with Grandmother, resolving myself to confess to Elizabeth.
It took some time, because she was often in consultation with her advisors like Cecil about her properties and money, Elizabeth ever diligent. Or she’d be speaking with Uncle John or Master Parry about what went on with Mary. She might be isolated, but never ignorant.
At last, I insisted she be fitted for a new gown, made in case Mary recalled Elizabeth to court.
I knelt on the floor at Elizabeth’s feet but kept my pins and scissors inside their wooden box. “Your Grace, I have something to confess,” I said.
My voice wasn’t very strong, and Elizabeth had to lean to hear me.
“What is it?” she asked with sharp suspicion.
“I have married James Colby.”
I spoke the words in a rush, fearing I’d never say them if I didn’t simply blurt out the truth without preliminary.
Elizabeth’s eyes flickered in relief. I wondered what she’d thought I meant to tell her—that my mother and stepfather had convinced me to convert? That I’d betrayed the conspirators who continued to come up with daring and overly rash plots?
“Married,” she repeated, her voice hard. “When you knelt in this very room and promised me you would never leave my side.”
“I haven’t left you,” I said with fervor. “I never will.” Rapidly I told her the whole tale, of how I worried, with justification, that my stepfather would coerce me into marriage, and how I’d gone to Colby to prevent such a thing, without any plans to leave Elizabeth’s side.
When I finished, out of breath, Elizabeth gazed down at me with a cool expression. I saw anger in her, but not the lashing rage I’d braced myself for.
“You could have come to me.” The words were cold and clear, like the rain beating on the windowpanes. “You could have showed me your mother’s letters and told me your fears. Did you think I could not prevent an unwanted marriage?”
