Virginia Henley - Unmasked by Virginia Henley

  As Velvet lay abed with her emotions in turmoil, sleep eluded her. Everything that had happened fo­cused all her thoughts on her own baby. Though her belly was still flat, she placed protective hands over her child and vowed to take every precaution to keep him safe. I could be having a baby girl. She tried to pic­ture such a child and could not. She had no trouble, however, imagining a son who looked exactly like Greysteel Montgomery. Velvet prayed for Anne and the child she was carrying. If I lost my baby, it would break my heart.

  When Velvet awoke the next day, her morning sick­ness had vanished. She looked from her window and saw that it was snowing. Everything had turned white overnight and the world looked fresh and clean and bright in spite of the fact that Montgomery had proba­bly already left her, alone at Whitehall.

  She banished thoughts of self-pity by thinking of poor Anne's plight. She breakfasted with Emma, but never mentioned anything about last night. She went to her shelf of jars and pots, selected a cream that con­tained glycerin and calamint, and went to visit Anne. When she arrived, a maidservant opened the door. Velvet approached the bed and saw that Anne was in a deep sleep. She had no idea how much the royal ser­vant knew, so did not question the woman. "When she awakens, would you tell her that Lady Montgomery brought her some hand cream? Thank you."

  Out in the hall were half a dozen servants carrying fresh bed linen. "How is Lady Beatrice this morning?"

  "She must be better, my lady. Princess Mary and all her maids of honor moved to St. James's Palace."

  Velvet was astonished. "When did they go?"

  "I don't rightly know, my lady. When I came on duty this morning, they were already gone."

  That's strange! They must have moved in the night. On the way back to her own apartment, she passed the staircase that led to the king's private apartments. She was curious as a cat about what had happened, but knew she could not knock on Charles's door with her questions. She nodded to the guard and walked on. Then she heard someone behind her and turned.

  "Dr. Fraser. I've just come from Anne's chamber and found her sleeping. Has the danger passed?"

  Fraser's face was set in grim lines and he looked ex­tremely worried. "Danger?"

  "The child," Velvet prompted.

  "There was no child," he said shortly. Then he hesi­tated and said more kindly, "There is no child."

  "I see, Doctor."

  "The lady is resting comfortably."

  "I understand that Beatrice, the lady who was delirious with fever, moved to St. James's Palace."

  Dr. Fraser sagged visibly. "She was moved because her fever could be contagious to Anne. Just a precau­tion, my lady."

  "But why would Princess Mary move to St. James's if the fever is contagious?"

  Fraser looked as if he had just been caught out in a lie. "I am following His Majesty's orders, Lady Mont­gomery."

  "Forgive me, Doctor. I understand you must exer­cise discretion." Velvet, walking along beside Fraser, decided to change the subject. "I am going to have a baby, Doctor."

  "Congratulations, my dear. When is the happy event to be?"

  "Probably in late April or early May. I was suffering from morning sickness, but it seems to have passed."

  Fraser hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know how to put the matter. "Lady Montgomery... Velvet, promise me you will stay away from St. James's Palace. I don't want you ex­posed to the contagion."

  "Thank you, Doctor. I promise I will stay away from there."

  At lunchtime, Velvet mingled with the ladies of the Court, determined to keep her ears open for any gos­sip. During the meal she spoke with Anna Marie Shrewsbury, Lady Arlington and Bess Maitland. They spoke in disparaging whispers of how haughty and ar­rogant Princess Mary acted, but no one seemed aware that she had moved from Whitehall to St. James's.

  In the afternoon, Velvet donned her fur cloak and went for a walk in the snow. Her footsteps led her to St. James's Park. As she stood staring up at the windows of the palace, it finally dawned on her that the king's sister would not have been moved away from Whitehall unless she too had come down with fever.

  This time, Velvet did not hesitate. She went straight to the king's private apartments and knocked on the door. There was no answer so she knocked more insis­tently. Prodgers came to the door and told her that His Majesty did not wish to be disturbed.

  Velvet pushed past him and opened the door of the antechamber, with Prodgers on her heels.

  "I'm sorry, Sire. Lady Montgomery could not be dissuaded."

  "It's all right, Prodgers," Charles said wearily.

  Velvet stood before Charles, trying to control her agitation. "Anne lost her child in the night."

  Charles's melancholy eyes sought hers. He nodded. "Yes."

  "That's not all, is it?" she asked apprehensively.

  He shook his head sadly. "No, that's not all, Velvet."

  "Princess Mary and her ladies were moved in the night because they have come down with fever."

  "Just a precaution, my dear."

  "They were moved from Whitehall and put in iso­lation."

  "We cannot risk infecting the Court, Velvet."

  "Infecting them with what?"

  The king did not reply.

  "Damn you, Charles, tell me!"

  "It is smallpox. Again."

  "Oh, sweet Jesus, no!" Her heart contracted. "My husband traveled with them for at least eight days. He has no idea he has been exposed to smallpox!"

  Chapter 26

  “Can't you wait until morning?" Emma asked anxiously.

  "Absolutely not! Greysteel more than likely has already left Roehampton and is on his way to New­market. I don't have an hour to lose... nay, not a minute." Velvet was hastily packing a bag with her warmest clothes when a knock came on the door. She opened it quickly and told the page she had sum­moned to find Ned, her driver, and have him harness her carriage.

  "It's going dark, and it is still snowing," Emma de­clared. "It is not safe to go tonight."

  "Emma, you don't really think I'm worried about my safety, do you? My husband's life may be in danger."

  "I'll pack my bag," Emma said with resignation.

  "You will do no such thing. If Greysteel has been in­fected with smallpox, he will be contagious. There will be enough people at Roehampton to worry about, without adding you." Velvet bit her lip. "I do thank you sincerely, Emma, for your generous offer, but it's best that I go alone."

  "But you won't be alone, will you, my love? What about your babe?"

  "Please don't burden me with guilt. I love Greysteel with all my heart and soul. He must come first."

  "I'm sure all your worry is for naught. Lord Mont­gomery is young and strong. I've never known him to get sick."

  "I hope and pray that you are right, but I remember that Prince Henry was young and strong, yet he died horribly." I mustn't tell Emma, but I have a premonition that is driving me.

  She slipped a couple of jars of cream made from cowslips and cucumber into her bags and then sat down to pull on her fur-lined boots. When Ned ar­rived he picked up her bags and Emma put on her cloak to come down with her. Velvet eyed the crated portrait, apprehensive that if she left it unattended, it might again fall into the wrong hands.

  "Help me carry this, Emma. I'm taking it with me."

  Ned put her bags inside the carriage and the two women lifted in the wooden crate. Emma enfolded her. "You are very brave."

  "No, I'm not, Emma. I'm more afraid than I have ever been in my life before. Take care of yourself."

  As the carriage rolled along, Velvet was thankful that Roehampton was only a few miles from London, and yet tonight it seemed a long journey. Once they left the city and were out on the open road, the east wind was fierce, blowing the snow almost horizon­tally and making the visibility extremely poor.

  Velvet huddled in a corner, pulling her fur cloak close about her and stamping her feet in an effort to keep them warm. Her breath formed white vapor clouds
and she worried that Ned might not be dressed adequately. She also hoped that the horses didn't feel as cold as she did. She prayed that her husband and Mr. Burke had not yet left Roehampton. If they had, she knew she could go no farther tonight.

  Finally the carriage slowed and stopped, but she knew they hadn't arrived at the manor yet, because Ned had not turned in at the driveway. She was about to open the door when Ned did it for her.

  "I cannot find the opening to the drive, my lady. It's hereabouts somewhere. You sit tight while I have a gander."

  In a few minutes, Velvet felt the carriage lurch for­ward and she guessed he had found it. But no sooner did it turn than it stopped dead. She tried to open the door, but a drift of snow prevented her. Then Ned cleared away the snow and managed to get it open.

  "The coach is stuck, I'm afraid. I'll walk up to the house and get help, my lady, if you'll sit tight."

  "No, I will not sit tight. We'll leave the carriage and baggage here and unharness the horses. We cannot leave them here in the cold. Help me get out."

  Velvet stood in snow up to her knees. "I'll unfasten this one, if you can go around and get the harness off the other."

  The breath from the horses rose in white vaporous clouds as they moved restlessly between the carriage shafts. It took a lot of struggling to get the leather trac­ers off the animals, and Velvet soothed them with soft, reassuring words.

  When they were finally free, Ned urged, "Why don't you get on your horse's back, my lady, and I'll lead them both?"

  "You could ride the other one, Ned."

  "Nay, I know how to drive, but I'm not much of a rider." He gave Velvet a boost up onto the carriage horse and they began to slowly plod their way to the manor through the blinding snow. It took them the better part of an hour before they reached the stables. Velvet was weak with relief to see that Greysteel's horse was in its stall. She trusted Ned to feed the ani­mals and give them a good rubdown.

  "Come up to the house when you are done, but go around to the back kitchen door. I'll tell Mrs. Clegg to expect you. She will feed you and plenish a room for you, but please keep away from Lord Montgomery. When he went to meet Princess Mary's ship at Dover, he was exposed to smallpox."

  "Is the rumor true, then, that His Majesty's sister has the smallpox?"

  "Yes, Ned. The king himself told me."

  Velvet, tired and wet, had used up almost all of her strength. She took a deep breath, pulled her cloak tightly about her throat and stepped back out into the elements, determined to battle her way to the house.

  Greysteel sat alone in front of the fire, contemplat­ing locking up for the night. Mr. Burke had retired to bed an hour ago. Mrs. Clegg was still puttering about in her kitchen, but Montgomery hesitated to urge her to retire to her own quarters with Alfred, because the kitchen was her domain and she truly enjoyed being the controlling proprietor without interference.

  The snowstorm had prevented him and Mr. Burke from setting out on their journey north. If the tempera­ture rises a couple of degrees, the snow will turn to rain and wash away all the drifts that have accumulated. It's just as well we didn't leave today—this damnable headache won't let go. He rubbed his temples and contemplated get­ting up from his comfortable chair.

  A thud at the front door brought him out of his lethargy. Greysteel stood and strode through the great hall, wondering who the devil could be arriving. The door opened and what looked like an animal fell across the threshold. Montgomery saw fiery tendrils of hair and realized it was his wife bundled up in fur.

  "Velvet! What the hell are you doing here?" He helped her to her feet and glared at her with angry consternation.

  "My hands and feet feel frozen," she said through blue lips.

  "You are wet through! Come to the kitchen—you need something to warm you up."

  Velvet held up an imperative hand. "You stay here! I'll go myself." She pulled off wet gloves and dropped them. As she moved toward the kitchen, she unfas­tened her cloak and let it fall to the floor. She saw Greysteel move toward her. "Stay!"

  Greysteel stopped. She's commanding me like I'm a bloody dog. He raised his voice so it would carry into the kitchen. "What the hell is going on, Velvet?" He could hear the voices of Bertha and his wife, but could not discern their words. He moved closer so he could hear.

  "I'll heat this barley broth, and warm some bread too. There'll be plenty for Ned when he comes," Bertha said.

  "I want you to give him a room near yours. I don't want him upstairs near the master bedchamber, and I don't want you or Alfred up there either. Do you un­derstand, Mrs. Clegg?"

  "Yes, my lady. I hope yer precautions are all for naught."

  "So do I, Bertha. I hope it with all my heart."

  Greysteel puzzled why precautions were necessary, but the thoughts brought pain to his head.

  "Take this mug of broth and be careful you don't burn yourself. Let me put a drop of whiskey in it... there."

  "Thank you. I'll take it with me while I talk to Greysteel."

  He moved back from the kitchen door, but when Velvet saw him, she glared so sternly, he retreated back to the sitting room. She followed and they each took chairs before the fire.

  As he looked at her, his mind conjured her beautiful naked portrait, and he remembered her cruel words about carrying the king's child. She was lying to me— please, God, she was lying!

  "Greysteel, Princess Mary has come down with smallpox."

  He saw her hands tremble and the broth almost spilled. "Holy God, she must have contracted it from the ship. That's how Henry caught it, you know." He knelt to remove her boots. "Charles must be consumed with worry."

  "At least one of her ladies has it, possibly more. You were in close contact with her for almost ten days. You too may have been infected."

  He jumped back from her. "You must be mad to come here and risk exposing yourself. You should have just sent a message!" He moved away from her across the room. "You are putting your child in unnec­essary danger too, Velvet."

  "Danger, yes, but absolutely not unnecessarily. If you fall ill, I shall be here to nurse you."

  "No, you will not. As soon as you have warmed yourself, you are getting back in your carriage and re­turning to London."

  She smiled wanly. "My carriage is stuck in the snow at the end of the drive. Ned and I had to unharness the horses and bring them to the stables."

  "You struggled through this storm to get to me?" Greysteel was incredulous. What she'd done had taken a great deal of courage, tenacity and love too, if he wasn't mistaken.

  "How are you feeling? Do you have a headache or backache?"

  "No, nothing like that," he lied. "I never felt better."

  "Thank God! To be on the safe side, you must keep your distance from Mr. Burke and the Cleggs."

  "And you, Velvet, for Christ's sake!" He brushed his hair back from his forehead with an impatient hand. "What about the King's Guards who also traveled with Mary—have any fallen ill?"

  "I don't honestly know; I didn't wait to find out." She took a deep breath. "I think I should go up to bed. I'm exhausted."

  "You take the master bedchamber and I'll use one of the guest rooms. Put your boots near the hearth. After you go up, I'll put the guard in front of the fire down here."

  Velvet put her boots to dry. "I want you to sleep in the master bedchamber tonight. If you are in a guest room and you do get sick, it will be an added burden for me to move you."

  "We'll do it your way, if it makes you feel better."

  "Thank you, Greysteel. Good night."

  "It is I who thank you, Velvet. What you have done is so selfless and I know how much courage it took."

  "It's not courage, Greysteel." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's love."

  He could not hear the last word, but he knew what he wanted it to be. I love you with all my heart and soul, Velvet. "Good night... get some rest and we'll talk in the morning."

  He watched her leave; then he returned to the fire­place
and set the protective guard in front of the fire before he sat down. Mary Stuart mustn't die! Charles must not lose both a brother and a sister to smallpox in such a short time. Fate couldn't be that cruel!

  Yet Montgomery knew that Fate could be that cruel. More than anything in the world he wanted Velvet to return to London, but Fate had stepped in and dis­abled her coach. He willed the contagion to leave him untouched; at the same time he pressed his hands to the staggering pain in his head.

  "I have to face up to it. The possibility I've caught smallpox is very real." He forced himself to get up from the chair and go up to bed, for as Velvet had pointed out, she didn't need the extra burden of mov­ing him.

  When he reached the top of the stairs, he thought about awakening Mr. Burke. They could lock Velvet in her room to try to keep her safe. He heard a noise in the master bedchamber that distracted his thoughts. When he opened the door, he saw that a log in the fire­place had fallen to ash, and he suddenly shivered from the coldness of the room. He replenished the fire be­fore it went out entirely, and then he undressed slowly and crawled into bed.

  Velvet opened her eyes and for a moment won­dered where she was. Then she remembered. She was at Roehampton, where she had fallen into an ex­hausted sleep in one of the guest bedchambers. She was no longer tired and slipped from the bed to look out the window. The moon was still fairly high, rather than low on the horizon and this told her that it wasn't yet morning. She guessed that she had slept deeply for about four hours.

  She felt chilled in her petticoat and sat on the bed to pull on her stockings. Then she put on her green vel­vet gown. Silently she gave thanks that she had reached the manor without incident and that Greysteel was well. Then she said a prayer for Charles and asked God to give him strength.

  She lit a brace of candles and wrote a note for Mr. Burke, telling him about Princess Mary's smallpox and her husband's exposure to the contagion. She gave the steward strict instructions to keep his distance from Montgomery Then moving slowly, with as little noise as possible, she left her chamber, walked down the hall to Mr. Burke's room and slipped the note beneath his door.