AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Ah, that is because I am not a man's woman. But you are, Bess, deny it how you will!”
“It is a bloody good thing I won't have to go into debt for new clothes. I have a wardrobe of magnificent gowns.”
“Need I remind you they came from a rich and indulgent husband?” Marcella pressed.
“Cavendish did indulge me, shamelessly. I'll never love again. I gave William my whole heart, and when I pledged my love, it was forever. I could never feel that way about any other man.”
Bess spent Christmas with her children at Brentford, then her barge was piled high with her lavish wardrobe of expensive garments and personal belongings as she embarked from Brentford to Westminster Palace in time for the New Year's revels.
Bess knew exactly what to expect at Court. As well as excitement and grandeur, there would be backbiting, petty jealousies, plotting, and mongering for power. All of them, including herself, were opportunists who would have to continually vie with each other to keep their place in the pecking order.
Bess was given chambers close to the Royal Apartments. She was well-pleased, for only a privileged few would have access to Elizabeth's private apartments, which lay beyond the Privy Chamber. Her two luxurious rooms were next to those assigned to Lord Dudley's sister, Mary Sidney, whom she had known for years.
Mary helped Bess hang her gowns in the commodious wardrobe. “Your clothes are beautiful; you have such exquisite taste. Which shall you wear tonight?”
“There is to be a ball tonight?” Bess asked faintly.
Mary laughed. “There is a ball every night, unless it is a masque or a play or a musical extravaganza. The New Year's Eve ball tomorrow night is a masquerade, but not just any costume will do. We are all to be gods and goddesses of mythology.”
“That doesn't give me much time for a costume. Is Her Majesty to be Circe again?”
“Ah, no. The queen is to be Venus, and my dearest brother Robin is to be her Adonis.” Mary rolled her eyes and they went off in peals of laughter.
Bess decided to wear her plainest gown tonight, since she had not yet discarded her mourning. Her dress was gray silk taffeta, and though it was plain it rustled and whispered mysteriously. She twisted her hair into a French knot and covered it with a snood encrusted with jet beads. By dressing soberly, Bess hoped to make a respectable impression. Everyone at Court must have heard of the Cavendish financial scandal, so she would hold her head high and remain on the sidelines. The last thing Bess wanted was for the Court to think she was manhunting.
The first man who asked her to dance was Sir John Thynne. His green velvet doublet matched the color of his eyes.
“I'm hardly out of mourning, John. I don't feel right, dancing.”
“Bess, my intentions are honorable. I would like leave to court you.”
Bess was startled. He was wasting no time and was clearly hinting at marriage. Her massive debt of five thousand pounds was not a deterrent. “How is your building at Longleat coming along?” They both had a passion for building and could discuss plaster frescoes or carved paneling for hours on end, which she hoped would divert him from his wooing.
The next man who asked her to dance was Sir Henry Brooke, who had recently come into his title of Lord Cobham. “It is most kind of you to ask me, Lord Harry, but I am not dancing tonight.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it, Bess. I'm in the market for a bride.”
Bess hoped that humor would divert him. “Harry, you've been in the market for a wife since your brother, Tom, married my husband's daughter, Cathy. Yet still you are unwed.”
“That is because the lady I wanted was unavailable. Now she is free.” He took her hand and pressed a fervent kiss upon it.
Bess firmly withdrew her fingers. “Your sister has just arrived; I must go and speak with her.”
Lord Harry followed Bess as she went to greet his sister, Elizabeth, and her husband, William Parr. As Harry engaged his sister in conversation, Parr gave Bess a kiss upon her cheek and murmured, “There is never any need for you to be lonely, Bess, not while I am at Court.”
Bess couldn't believe her ears. It was a proposition if ever she'd heard one! She did not want to offend him— she still owed him money for land purchases—but she wanted no sexual scandal attached to her name. “How could I possibly be lonely with dear friends like your wife, Elizabeth?” Bess asked sweetly.
The queen, escorted by Robin Dudley, made her entrance into the ballroom. She was gowned in gold tissue, cut exceedingly low in the neckline. The tight bodice of her gown was sewn all over with topaz jewels. All the ladies present sank down before her, and as she passed each one, Elizabeth raised them up.
As Bess came out of her curtsy, Elizabeth's eyes swept over her. “I burned all my gray gowns. I suggest you do the same.”
“I beg to differ, madam,” Robin Dudley said to the queen. “The gown gives Lady Cavendish a most sophisticated allure.”
Elizabeth said to Bess, “Spoken by the man who can get a woman out of her clothes faster than any at Court.”
Robin's bold eyes swept over the queen. “I haven't had much success in that direction lately, madam.”
Elizabeth slapped him playfully with her fan, clearly enjoying the titillating banter. “Virtue is its own reward.”
