The Prince of Lies (Night's Masque, #3)(57)

Though Mal’s presence at Richmond did much to lighten her days, Coby had not forgotten her other duties. There was still the question of Lady Derby’s visits to Syon House; if she was not going to meet Shawe or any of her lovers, what was she up to? Then there was Lady Frances’s daughter to keep an eye on. Through patient coaxing Coby learnt that Elizabeth had grown up at her grandfather’s house, Barn Elms, only a few miles east of Richmond Palace. It sounded a lonely childhood, with only nursemaids and tutors for company and occasional visits from her widowed mother. No wonder she was endlessly excited by even the dullest activities at court, though at the same time painfully shy and fearful of attention.

One afternoon they were sitting together in one of the window seats, making the most of the fading light. “Bartolomeo” had just finished entertaining them with a song and was refreshing his throat with a cup of honeyed wine.

“He sings so prettily,” Elizabeth said, gazing at Bartolomeo with ill-disguised admiration. “I wish I could speak Italian. Mamma made sure I learnt French and Latin and even a little Greek, but Master Cottenham said Italian was not a fit tongue for ladies: too passionate and like to turn their thoughts astray.”

“I think your tutor was right,” Coby replied.

She was not about to encourage the girl by teaching her the few Italian phrases she remembered from her time in Venice. On the contrary, the less Elizabeth had to do with Olivia the better, especially if her betrothed was Jathekkil’s amayi. Poor child, caught in the midst of such scheming without the slightest idea of what was going on.

The room fell silent as a page in the livery of the Prince of Wales’s household entered.

“Your Highness,” the youth said, staring straight ahead, “your royal husband requests the pleasure of your company, and that of your ladies and your servant Bartolomeo, at tomorrow morning’s hunt.”

Elizabeth immediately set her sewing down on her lap and leaned forward, eyes bright with anticipation.

The princess’s lips tightened briefly. “Please thank His Highness, but as he well knows, I care little for the hunting.”

A sigh of disappointment ran around the ladies-in-waiting. Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged, and Coby glimpsed bitter frustration in Lady Derby’s countenance before she managed to hide it. The countess had set her sights higher than the Earl of Essex, it seemed. Perhaps it would be wise to find out just where her ambitions lay.

“Such a pity,” Coby said brightly. “I expect the Earl of Rutland will want to ride out with his betrothed, but she cannot go alone.”

The princess frowned at her. “Well, I suppose there can be no harm if you accompany her, my dear. I would not keep the gentlemen from their pleasures.”

“Lady Catlyn cannot be relied upon to watch Mistress Sidney,” Lady Derby said. “Her husband will surely be there, and he will forever be distracting her.”

The ladies giggled, and Coby flushed. She thought she and Mal had been discreet here, far more discreet than back home in Derbyshire.

“Perhaps we should both go, Lady Derby,” Coby said. “I am sure you are far less easily distracted than I.”

Juliana’s eyes narrowed, and Coby cursed her misstep. Now it looked as if the two of them were colluding to get Lady Derby and the prince together.

“Oh no, I d-d-don’t want to be any trouble,” Elizabeth said, twisting her hands in her lap. “I will gladly stay here, Your Highness–”

“Nonsense, my dear,” Princess Juliana said stiffly. “Of course you must go, Lady Derby. You look so pinched and thin these days; a little fresh air will do you good.”

Lady Derby bridled almost imperceptibly at the insult but forced a smile. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

The atmosphere in the princess’s presence chamber was frosty for the rest of the afternoon, and Coby was relieved beyond measure when she and the other ladies were finally excused. Lady Derby caught Coby’s elbow as they left.

“Thank you for what you said earlier, Lady Catlyn. I swear I feel like a caged bird here.”

Yes, well, nothing is keeping you here but your own wicked ambition.

“It is rather dull sometimes,” Coby replied aloud. “I am glad to have a friend who feels the same way.”

“We could be sisters,” Lady Derby gave her a disarming smile. “Now, if you will excuse me, I had better tell my maidservant to unpack my riding habit.”

Coby watched her leave with a sinking heart. A riding habit? That was not something she had thought of when she put together a wardrobe for her new station in life. She ran upstairs to look through her gowns in the hope of finding something suitable.



Early next morning Coby made her way down to the stable yard with Elizabeth Sidney. They had been invited to the formal breakfast before the hunt, but Elizabeth was so nervous and excited that she looked fit to vomit up the rich food. Instead they breakfasted in Coby’s apartments on bread and small ale. Mal had already left to attend upon the prince, and Sandy was taking Kit for an early walk, so they had the place to themselves for a while. The peace and solitude seemed to soothe Elizabeth’s nerves, and at last she felt able to take Coby’s hand and go down to join the hunt.

The stable yard was such a mêlée of horses, hounds and men, Coby wondered that they had not already frightened away every deer within a dozen miles of Richmond Park.