London, 1609. When Lucy St.John, a beautiful highborn orphan at the court of King James, is seduced by the Earl of Suffolk, she never imagines the powerful enemy she creates in his beloved sister, the Countess of Rochester. Or that her own sister Barbara would betray her and force Lucy to leave the court in disgrace. Spirited, educated, and skilled in medicine and precious remedies, Lucy fights her way back into society, and through an unexpected love match, becomes
mistress of the Tower of London.
Excerpt from Chapter Eight: Whitehall
Barbara got up from Frances’s side and walked across the room to me. Under the pretense of an embrace, she whispered clearly.
“’Struth, Lucy, if you intend to pursue this road with Theo, judge your odds and be prepared to wager the stakes, for those who aim high can also fall far. Do not look to me for aid, for you choose your own path, and if ruin is the outcome, I shall publicly disown you.”
I stepped back involuntarily.
“What have I ever done to make you hate me so much?” I asked. “I don’t understand why you are this way to me.”
“Not hate. Indifference. I do not see what others see in you. And my plans will not be compromised by your foolishness. Straighten your gown — you reveal too much.” She pulled the soft muslin across my reddened skin, kissed my cheek as though she were Judas, and left.
“Theo . . .”
I turned to him for reassurance, but he was gone. Drawn into Carr’s circle, he was loudly joking and drinking steadily from a goblet of wine. As I stared at him, trying to reconcile this frivolous courtier with the man I loved, he shrugged, laughing at his situation, and turned back to his friends. The musicians, who sounded so glorious when I first arrived, now rang discordant. I sickened of the entire confusing visit to White Hall and wished myself back in the peace of Lydiard.
“But you know this is the way of the court.”
The night lay between us, and we met at the Stone Gallery again during the afternoon promenade. The pavement reflected a cold light; falling snow continued to swathe the palace in gauze, softening the angles of the roofs and chimneys, and settling on charcoal-etched branches. A woman in a crimson cloak hurried across the privy garden, a daub of color in a black-and-white landscape. I wondered whose arms she was seeking, so swiftly, in such inclement weather. All my thoughts turned first to lovers now.
I touched Theo’s arm to bridge the distance.
“I know, I am not stupid. Anne has told me of her years at court where she witnessed firsthand the deceptions and lies, the flattery and untruths. It just does not sit right with me to see you in that world.”
“Ah, Lucy, it’s just a game. Seize the opportunity to know us better, and you will find this amusing. As long as you do not take yourself seriously, there is no harm in playing these subtleties.”
“Is that what last night was?”
“No, that was no game, for you have captured my heart and enchanted my soul, Titania.” He pulled me to him, ignoring the glances of those around us. “Learn the ways of White Hall, and enjoy courtly love.”
Elizabeth St.John
Barbara got up from Frances’s side and walked across the room to me. Under the pretense of an embrace, she whispered clearly.
“’Struth, Lucy, if you intend to pursue this road with Theo, judge your odds and be prepared to wager the stakes, for those who aim high can also fall far. Do not look to me for aid, for you choose your own path, and if ruin is the outcome, I shall publicly disown you.”
I stepped back involuntarily.
“What have I ever done to make you hate me so much?” I asked. “I don’t understand why you are this way to me.”
“Not hate. Indifference. I do not see what others see in you. And my plans will not be compromised by your foolishness. Straighten your gown — you reveal too much.” She pulled the soft muslin across my reddened skin, kissed my cheek as though she were Judas, and left.
“Theo . . .”
I turned to him for reassurance, but he was gone. Drawn into Carr’s circle, he was loudly joking and drinking steadily from a goblet of wine. As I stared at him, trying to reconcile this frivolous courtier with the man I loved, he shrugged, laughing at his situation, and turned back to his friends. The musicians, who sounded so glorious when I first arrived, now rang discordant. I sickened of the entire confusing visit to White Hall and wished myself back in the peace of Lydiard.
“But you know this is the way of the court.”
The night lay between us, and we met at the Stone Gallery again during the afternoon promenade. The pavement reflected a cold light; falling snow continued to swathe the palace in gauze, softening the angles of the roofs and chimneys, and settling on charcoal-etched branches. A woman in a crimson cloak hurried across the privy garden, a daub of color in a black-and-white landscape. I wondered whose arms she was seeking, so swiftly, in such inclement weather. All my thoughts turned first to lovers now.
I touched Theo’s arm to bridge the distance.
“I know, I am not stupid. Anne has told me of her years at court where she witnessed firsthand the deceptions and lies, the flattery and untruths. It just does not sit right with me to see you in that world.”
“Ah, Lucy, it’s just a game. Seize the opportunity to know us better, and you will find this amusing. As long as you do not take yourself seriously, there is no harm in playing these subtleties.”
“Is that what last night was?”
“No, that was no game, for you have captured my heart and enchanted my soul, Titania.” He pulled me to him, ignoring the glances of those around us. “Learn the ways of White Hall, and enjoy courtly love.”
Elizabeth St.John
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About the Author
Thanks so much for featuring Elizabeth St.John with The Lady of the Tower on your blog today.
ReplyDeleteCathie xx
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