“It’s the Queen of England. She’s here, in our parlor. With the Nobildonna. I’m very sorry, Ma, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“She’s here?” she asked, aghast. But it was not clear which of the women she dreaded the most: his mother or the fugitive queen.
“They want to sail now.”
“Monmouth’s army is in London? Argyll?”
“He must be near, for them to want to get away.”
She nodded. “Send the girl for Captain Shore. He’s at Paton’s coffeehouse,” she said. “And tell Tabs to offer them wine and water.”
“Won’t you come?” he asked her. “They’re sitting in the parlor. I don’t think it should be Tabs…”
“I?”
“Please, Ma.”
“I swore I’d never see her again.”
“It’s only for a moment… Ma. And she’s rewarded me for this.”
He saw her summon her courage and square her shoulders. “Very well,” she said. “You go upstairs and tell your grandmother that the queen and the Nobildonna are here. Tell her she need not come down. Tell her they’re not staying; and I will deal with them.”
He hesitated, his hand on the door knob. “I’m so sorry, Ma,” he said.
She put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s not you. It’s her. It’s her who brings trouble to our door, and she always has done.”
She went past him into the hall, and he heard her firm step on the stone floor and then the creak of the parlor door.
“May I present Goodwife Shore,” Livia said to the queen, her voice clear and steady, not a shadow of embarrassment at seeing the woman she had loved and betrayed.
The queen inclined her head but said nothing as Alys dropped a small curtsey. Behind her, Tabs came in, carrying a flagon of red wine and a jug of water on a tray with two glasses. They clinked in the silence as she put them down on the table and slowly withdrew. When the door was closed behind her, Alys said: “I’ve sent the maid to fetch Captain Shore.”
“Thank you,” Livia said. She stepped to the table and mixed a small glass of wine and water for the queen.
Alys stared at Livia, trying to see that once-beloved face through the thick veil. As if she felt Alys’s eyes upon her, Livia tossed the veil away from her face, over the brim of her hat, and once again Alyssaw the dark arched eyebrows, the smiling dark eyes, and the perfect profile of the woman she had adored.
“You will think I am much changed,” Livia said, a caressing note in her voice.
She handed the queen the glass and stepped towards Alys. “I have missed you, Alys. I did not want to leave you as I did, and it broke my heart that you would not see me when I visited Matteo. It was you I came to see, Beloved. It was you I was longing for.”
“Matthew,” Alys said curtly, resisting the enchantment of the lilting voice. “We call him Matthew.”
“I understand, you still don’t forgive me.”
They heard the back door to the yard bang and Captain Shore clattered down the stone-flagged hall. He opened the door to the parlor and recoiled at the sight of the three women, one veiled, one a great beauty, and his wife, her square face pale and her whole body as rigid as if their house were occupied by an enemy.
“What’s this?” he asked of the room, and then turned to his wife. “Girl said that I was to sail at once.”
Matthew followed him into the room. “These are the ladies who have booked berths on your voyage, sir. They have to leave today.”
“Going badly, is it?” the Captain asked cheerfully of no one. “Well, I’m agreeable. We’re fully loaded, and I pay no mooring charges at my own wharf.” He nodded to his wife but drew no answering smile from her. He was shocked by the cold bitterness in her face.
“When can we leave, Captain Shore?” Livia demanded.
“When the tide turns,” he said. “On the ebb, in four hours. I’ll send for my sailors now, they’re ready. As long as no one’s been pressed for the navy.” He turned a baleful glance on the veiled queen. “Someone should do something about the way they press good men into the king’s navy,” he said ominously.
“Not now, Abel,” his wife said quietly.