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And here I am, Mother, the queen’s Lady of Misrule. With a brawny, handsome man who may have suggested that he’d like to see her naked, even knowing about her marks.
Lucy walked along the line of spinning wheels, making people around her laugh with her critical eye, despite her comments always being overly positive. The contrast between words and facial expressions made people laugh. If Lucy saw any lady beginning to suffer from her satire, she’d hold the kissing ball at the end of her scepter over the lady’s head, and a gallant swain would come kiss her hand or cheek. The lightheartedness and exuberant attention smoothed the few ruffled feathers her judging caused.
At the end of the row, Lucy turned to survey her domain for the rest of the twelve Christmas days. At least, that’s what she attempted to portray. Instead, her gaze sought Greer. He stood with Alyce and Catherine near the table where Nick still grazed, the boy filling his belly with a feast that he’d been denied his whole short life.
Greer motioned to the dancers performing the simple dance in two lines. For a man who did not talk much, he seemed to be doing all the talking with Alyce and Catherine. Both girls had taken on an adoring look.Holy Mother Mary!If Lucy allowed herself to look at Greer that way, she would be brutally laughed at when he left.
She turned toward the Snapdragon game.Well, I’m not giving my heart away. I might give away my maidenhead, but not my heart.
Lucy raised her fingertips to her lips as if stopping herself from saying the words aloud. She’d already considered seducing him to prove she wasn’t predictable.
“William Darby is a kindhearted man with a solid position,” Cordelia said beside Lucy. For a split-second Lucy couldn’t, for the life of her, remember who William Darby was. “And he’s brother to our dearest friend,” Cordelia continued. “He has an honorable position at court, is highly intelligent, and had a good upbringing.”
“You’re right, Cordy,” Lucy said.
“Of course, I am.”
Lucy opened her eyes wide as she looked at her sister. “I think you should marry him.”
Cordelia smile dropped. “Not me.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and sighed. “William Darby sees me as a medical curiosity.” Despite all the truth in Cordelia’s description and the feeling that William might be attracted to her, the thought of marrying the chemist made Lucy’s stomach curdle.
“But he’s seen your marks and doesn’t think badly of you,” Cordelia said.
“Greer doesn’t think badly of me for having them either,” Lucy said.
Cordelia’s eyes grew round as she turned on her. “Has heseenthem?”
“Just my hand,” Lucy said.
“Thank the good Lord,” Cordelia murmured, and plastered on a smile as William walked up.
“But I’ve told him,” Lucy said. “He has marks too.”
“He has scars from battle,” Cordelia said, fluffing her dress. ’Tis different from what… from what you were born with.” Her sister’s words shot like little arrows through Lucy’s heart. “Although he suffered, too, from the pain inflicted, like Mother unfairly did to you.” Cordelia squeezed Lucy’s hand.
Lucy inhaled and placed her practiced smile across her mouth as William stopped before them. She was the jester after all, pierced heart or not. She rubbed the hollow feel in her chest. If one looked inside, would they see her heart bleeding from the jabs or rotting like a diseased limb?
“’Tis very festive, considering the underlying worry,” William said, indicating the room, but Lucy barely noticed. Cordelia gave some agreeable reply.
How would Lucy be able to draw another breath if Greer did look upon her scars and turned away? Her heart thudded hard with the thought, and a cold sweat broke along her forehead. How foolish she was to even consider showing him or anyone. If the abbeys hadn’t been dissolved, she’d have become a nun.
Maybe she could volunteer at a leper house. Cordelia had been very against that particular idea.God has a plan for you, Cordelia had insisted.And it doesn’t involve condemning yourself to a leper colony.But maybe it did. She might as well help those who understood the pain of being ostracized, of never being touched except through fabric.
Lucy closed her eyes. The laughter seemed sharp and jagged like broken glass against her frayed heart, the music mocking.
“Are you well?” William asked, his hand gripping her arm.
Lucy pulled it away. “I need some fresh air,” she said. “Alone, please.” She traipsed away, donning the smile she wore like a mask. The press of so many swishing petticoats against her felt like fingers trying to stop her from escape. One step in front of the other, she pushed through the crowd to the arched doorway.
The air was cool in the corridor, and she took full breaths as she continued across to the chapel. Quiet and empty, it was the perfect place to repair her composure. Her slippers pattered against the marble floor as she ran down the aisle flanked by boxed off sets of pews. The ornate alter reminded her of her mother’s Catholic masses even though Elizabeth was clearly Protestant.
Lucy nearly fell to the kneeling pad before the table with a central gold cross, her head bowed as she slowed her breath. When she looked up, the polished cross seemed to glow down at her, reflecting the light cast from the sconces on the wall. “What do I do, dearest God?” she whispered.
Would it be lepers for her? Or William like Cordelia encouraged? The fact that Lucy wasn’t sure if she’d rather live with lepers or marry William was answer enough for her that she wasn’t attracted to William. At all. She snorted softly.Then what, God? What do I do?
Greer’s face slid easily into her mind. She shook her head. He would find her ugly despite his kindness to Alyce.He asked to see them, she thought as she rubbed her gloved right hand.I told him they were hideous. Surely, he wouldn’t spurn her after seeing her. Would he?
