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With a murmured apology Bess handed the book to Lady Jane and saw Lady Zouche gape at the resemblance between the two redheaded young women.
“Lady Elizabeth, how lovely to see you! May I present my friend, Lady Margaret Zouche?” Frances sounded genuinely happy that Elizabeth had been brought back to Court where she belonged.
“Lady Margaret,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “It is always a pleasure to see you, Frances. I would like Mistress Hardwick to attend me, if you can spare her for an hour.”
When Lady Zouche appeared to have been struck dumb, Frances said, “By all means. Jane is here to visit with Prince Edward; we are presently awaiting an audience with your father.”
“Good morrow, Lady Elizabeth,” Lady Jane said gravely.
“Age quod agis—attend to what you are about,” Elizabeth translated the Latin for her. “Vivat rex!”
“Long live the king!” Lady Jane said piously.
The last thing Elizabeth wanted was to be present when her father arrived. His mood was so uncertain. Her earliest memories of him tossing her in the air were mixed up with the times he had pointed his all-powerful finger and raged at her. Both were terrifying. She had learned to hold her own in his presence, sensing that he despised cowardice in anyone but himself. People said she was so like him—there was no denying that she was Old Harry's daughter—but Elizabeth knew that when he saw her red hair and witnessed her temper, he could be either amused or enraged.
Elizabeth took Bess by the hand and swept her from the room. The two girls walked through the Privy Garden and into the Great Fountain Garden. Bess spotted a fat bumblebee struggling in the water and immediately scooped it out and set it on the stone ledge so it could dry off its wings.
“God's death, you are impulsive. You acted without thinking.”
“Nay, I thought about it. I weighed the bee's life against my being stung and decided the risk was worth it.”
“Your thought processes work rapidly, as do mine, but I have learned to act with caution,” Elizabeth explained.
“Perhaps because you have been stung too many times.”
When they came to the maze, Elizabeth said decisively, “We'll go in here where we can be private.” At the center of the maze, the pair sat on a bench. “Tell me about yourself. I want to know your philosophy, your hopes and dreams. I want to know what is in here,” Elizabeth touched her forehead, “and in here,” she touched her heart. “No! On second thought, let me tell you.”
Bess nodded eagerly.
“You have a hot temper; you are vain; you have a thirst for knowledge and a passion for life. To top it all off, you are extremely ambitious.”
“You are describing yourself as well as me, Your Grace.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You are also clever, witty, and blunt.”
“Do you believe in destiny?” Bess asked eagerly.
“I do. I believe in my own destiny.”
“Do you believe you will be queen someday?”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, caution coming to the fore.
Bess touched her hand. “You don't need to tell me, I know! I am so certain about what my future holds that I warrant you are too.”
“Tell me.”
“I shall make a great marriage and have many sons and daughters. I shall have a town house in London and a magnificent home in the country, where one day I shall entertain Queen Elizabeth the First of England!”
“It is dangerous to share secret dreams. I trust no one.”
“Let's swear a pledge to trust in ourselves and trust each other,” Bess said impulsively.
Elizabeth placed her hand over her heart. “No matter what.” They smiled at each other. “Do you know any gossip?”
“Well …” Bess had heard gossip about King Henry but suddenly realized the impropriety of repeating it to his daughter.
“You do know some gossip! Tell me or I shall never forgive you!”
