I’d reasoned she could have done nothing at all, not when Mary watched her every move and gave her no concessions. I kept my head bowed, not answering.
Elizabeth’s hands were near my face, and her slender fingers curled into her palms. I expected to be cuffed at any moment for my impertinence and my conviction that she could not have helped me.
Then her hands relaxed, and Elizabeth let out a long sigh. “If Mary had condoned your stepfather’s choice, then no, I could not have prevented it.” Another sigh, with a growl to it. “Cease staring at my feet, Eloise, and look at me.”
I raised my head, my mouth trembling as I gazed past the white velvet, gold embroidered bodice to her very pale face, framed with flame-red hair.
“Your marriage to Colby can be put aside if there were no witnesses, or a record, or a clergyman,” she stated.
“We had all of that,” I assured her. “Master Colby is no fool.”
“Indeed, he is not. It can also be undone if the parties do not live as man and wife, if you understand what I mean.”
“Like Jane and Guildford.” I nodded. “The marriage has been … consummated.”
I flushed. While my time snuggled with Colby represented some of the best moments of my life, thoughts of it embarrassed me. And yet, I had no regrets whatsoever.
Elizabeth’s mouth hardened. I saw the envy in her eyes for what I’d experienced, but also conviction that the step I’d taken was irreversible.
“What of Colby?” she demanded. “Does he expect you to reside in his home and preside over his suppers? While he claims he is in council all day but really means the public house in the village?”
I shook my head fervently. “No, Your Grace. He knows I won’t relinquish my place in your household. I will stay with you—if Your Grace will have me.”
I bowed my head once more, my fear unfeigned. I loved Elizabeth as much as I loved Colby, if in a different manner, and it would break my heart if she sent me away. I wasn’t certain the joys of marriage would compensate.
Another growl left her throat. “I will think on this, Eloise. Colby is a gentleman of my household, and he should have come to me first. You both should have.” I dared raise my head again to find her brows pinched in one of her foul tempers. “It was inevitable, I suppose. I saw how you watched each other whenever you were together, but I hoped you wouldn’t do anything quite so rash.”
“I can pack my things and be gone in a trice,” I said, my voice shaking. “If you desire it.”
“Go where? Shropshire? There’s a ruined castle of my ancestors at Shrewsbury, but I hear it does not amount to much.” Elizabeth became firm once more. “No, Eloise, you will remain here until I see fit to dismiss you.” She took a step back. “Now go from me. I do not much wish to be near you at the moment.”
I unfolded myself from the floor, my heart thumping in relief. If she’d been outraged and furious, she’d have banished me at once, not debated the point. Elizabeth might still banish me, but she’d think it over coolly instead of impulsively ordering me from her house.
“I should unpin the gown first,” I said.
“No.” Elizabeth flicked the skirt from my reach. “Send Mistress Blanche to me, my most loyal lady. And tell your aunt I wish to speak to her.”
“Aunt Kat did not know,” I quickly assured her. “None knew but Colby and me, and now you.”
“And your mother and stepfather, of course,” Elizabeth snapped. “Go, before I change my mind and toss you out into the rain.”
“At once, Your Grace.” I bowed low and then fled, remembering at the last instant to snatch up my box of scissors and pins before I went.
I hugged the carved box to my chest as I slipped into the outer chamber and rested my back against the door to catch my breath. The interview had been terrifying, but I reflected that I preferred begging Elizabeth for mercy a hundred times more than facing my stepfather who openly despised me.
Life continued at Hatfield much as it had before. I remained with Elizabeth, who at first eyed me with displeasure whenever I entered a room. Gradually, her disappointment in me gave way to acceptance. Colby continued to work for her, bringing her intelligence about all that went on in the realm. I resumed my needlework, sewing gowns, caps, and hoods. Mary never invited Elizabeth back to her, but Elizabeth continued to ask for new designs from me.
Once Elizabeth convinced herself that Colby and I were in no danger of rushing off in a fit of passion and deserting her altogether, she ceased her silent torture of me. Truth to tell, I looked forward to my infrequent encounters with Colby, when we could be private together, but I was careful never to let on to Elizabeth about my yearnings for him.
As spring wore on, Elizabeth grew more confident as public opinion turned firmly against Mary.
The many terrible burnings, especially those of Hugh Latimer, Bishop of Worcester; Nicholas Ridley, who’d been Bishop of London; and finally, Archbishop Cranmer that spring, resulted in Mary being openly hated. It did not help Mary that these men—supposedly evil heretics—all died heroically.
Bishop Latimer had said to his fellow condemned, “Be of good comfort … We shall this day light such a candle by God’s grace in England as I trust shall never be put out.”
Then, in late March, Mary began making arrests of our group of conspirators.
As with all would-be rebellions, the greatest problem stemmed from trying to raise money. When Thomas Seymour had planned to rise against his brother, Somerset, he’d not only recruited pirates, but he’d bribed a man at the Bristol mint, who’d betrayed him. This time, Christopher Ashton, our leader, had tried to corrupt those at the Exchequer. This part of the plan was found out, and arrests began.
