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It was June before Francis Talbot, Fifth Earl of Shrews-bury, was in residence at Sheffield Castle. But Bess had not wasted her time since her decision to pay a visit to the lord lieutenant of Derbyshire. She and her aunt Marcy had refurbished the elegant gray taffeta gown that Lady Margaret Zouche had given her. They took the billowing sleeves and embroidered them with violets. Then Bess took the scissors and altered the high neckline so that it was low and square-cut, to show off her breasts. Marcella took the piece of taffeta and fashioned a stomacher, also embroidered with violets, to emphasize Bess's tiny waistline. When it was done, the dress was quite showy, but its gray and mauve were quite acceptable mourning colors. Bess considered having Ralph Leche or her brother accompany her, then decided against it. A woman alone just might appeal to the earl's chivalry.
Bess rode down the long avenue of century-old oaks that led to the grounds of Sheffield Castle. It sat in an eight-acre park, and she stared in disbelief at the number of gardeners she counted. The vast lawns were manicured, the ornamental bushes clipped neatly, and the flower beds were laid out with a precise symmetry. Bess sighed with longing. Just so would she want the grounds of her own estate to look.
When she reached the stone courtyard that led to the long row of stables, two grooms approached her, one to take her mount, the other to assist her from the saddle. Bess removed her hooded cloak that had protected her hair and her gown from the dust of the roads. Then she rolled it up and tucked it into her saddlebags. Before she took out her package of precious documents, she brushed her glorious red hair until it crackled. The grooms stood gaping at her, but Bess forced herself to blithely ignore them, reminding herself that that was how the nobility treated servants.
Sheffield's size alone was intimidating. It was so enormous, it easily contained over two hundred rooms. The arched doorway to the castle was flanked by uniformed guards, and beyond them Bess could see footmen in the entrance hall. Their blue liveries sparked her imagination, and she decided on the spot that when she had her own footmen she would put them in blue and silver.
When the majordomo approached to ask her business, she told him, “I'm here to see the Earl of Shrewsbury.”
“That would be impossible, madam,” he replied stiffly. “His lordship is not receiving today.”
Bess drew herself up and lifted her chin. Though the majordomo was an imposing figure, she refused to be intimidated by him. “I must insist—I am here on a most important matter.”
“Would that be a personal matter or a business matter, madam?” he asked impassively.
“It is a business matter,” she stated emphatically.
“Then you wish to see his lordship's secretary, Thomas Baldwin, who looks after all the earl's business affairs.”
Bess held her tongue. The man was too rigid to bend even slightly. The majordomo led her to a carved settle in a reception room off the entrance hall and told her to wait. After a half hour Master Baldwin put in an appearance. He had a scholarly look about him, with a sharp, pointed face and ink-stained fingers, and Bess hoped he would be more reasonable than the majordomo. Such was not the case, however. Baldwin refused to let her speak with Shrewsbury and insisted she lay her business before him instead. With a sinking heart she explained her predicament to the earl's secretary, who answered in a condescending manner.
“Madam, have you any idea how many supplicants come begging assistance daily from the Earl of Shrewsbury? 'Tis impossible to accommodate the constituents of three entire counties.”
A spark of anger ignited in Bess. “I refuse to leave until I have seen the earl!”
The heavy front door banged, and an extremely tall, dark young man in riding attire strode past the door of the reception room. Within thirty seconds he came back to get a second look at the woman with Baldwin. George Talbot advanced into the room, slapping a riding crop into the palm of his hand.
“Well, I'll be damned, if it isn't Mistress Elizabeth Hardwick.” He pronounced her name with the emphasis on the last syllable to provoke her.
“If I get my wish, you will be damned, and my name happens to be Mistress Elizabeth Barlow,” she said imperiously.
His eyes narrowed as they swept down over her luscious breasts and tiny waist. “So, you're now a married woman, with experience of the marriage bed. Hell's teeth, I'll bet you know a trick or two, Vixen!”
Bess's black eyes flashed with fury. “I am a widow, you uncouth lout; show a little respect!”
“Still teaching me manners? Splendor of God, it wouldn't surprise me if you could teach me other things as well, and while we're at it, there's a couple of things I'd like to teach you.”
Thomas Baldwin stepped away from the couple, who seemed to be on intimate, though extremely antagonistic terms.
“As an earl's son, someone must have tried to make a gentleman of you, but it is obvious that they failed miserably.”
Talbot ignored her assessment of him. With his riding crop, he flicked a red curl that sat upon her shoulder. “Is that color real?” he drawled.
“Everything about me is real, including my temper!” Bess knew she was ruining her chances for help from the noble Talbots, but she simply couldn't control her tongue.
“Vixen!” he taunted.
She watched his eyes slide down her body and come to rest below the stomacher. Suddenly, Bess knew he was undressing her with his eyes. The flat of her hand delivered a stinging slap to his cheek.
His powerful hands shot out to clasp her about the waist and lift her from the carpet. If Baldwin hadn't been in the room with them, Bess knew that Talbot would have tried to ravish her. Slowly, he set her feet back to the floor and murmured, “You owe me for that, Vixen, and someday I'm going to collect.” He walked across the room to the secretary and spoke low.
Though Bess could not hear their words, she imagined the terrible things that were being said about her. Angry tears of frustration sprang to her eyes, and she fought them back with sheer determination.
The two men spoke at length before young Talbot departed and Baldwin returned to her. She thought she would be dismissed immediately and was surprised when he asked to see her legal documents. She gave them to him and sat back down on the settle while he examined them carefully.
When he left, Talbot immediately sought his father and found him at his massive desk in the library, signing letters and documents that had been prepared by his secretary.
“Father, there's a young woman downstairs asking to speak with you.”
