The Twylight Tower Read Free Page B

to whisper. “Come in with me, and I’ll explain.”
    She nodded to the liveried yeomen guards who swept open the doors, then shut them in everyone’s faces when she and Cecil were inside. The elegantly appointed withdrawing room was empty too.
    “The only mystery afoot,” Kat muttered with a shake of her head, “is how the queen can carry on as she has.” She kept nervously twisting the cord to the hanging scented pomander that dangled from her ample waist.
    “Aha. Dudley still?” Cecil asked.
    “Still and more than ever,” Kat declared, a frown furrowing her high brow. “She’s gone out with him now, walking in the orchards, but she said you might come out and find them by the Turtle Cage. Obviously they didn’t want everyone with them this time.”
    Cecil felt deflated, angry, and alarmed.
I fear,
his own thoughts echoed Kat’s words. Once, it had notbeen like Elizabeth of England to evade the business of her realm. Once, she had relied on his judgments and advice. And was he expected to brief her on a treaty that ended a bloody war with archenemies France and Scotland amidst cooing turtledoves in an orchard?
    “Are the two of them out there unescorted?” Cecil demanded, forgoing
sotto voce
now.
    “But for three servants, none of whom will say a peep to her courtiers, who think she’s in here. Her Grace has Ned Topside with her, reciting love sonnets, I warrant. Meg Milligrew is supposedly picking posies for garlands, and Her Majesty’s favorite lutenist, Geoffrey Hammet, playing pretty tunes.” Kat’s voice, usually sweet and conciliatory, was bitter and mocking.
    “Hell’s gates,” Cecil said. “Not one proper companion? Has she taken leave of her senses?”
    Kat snorted and edged toward the window to look out toward the orchards again, her fingers now tying knots in her pomander cord. “Her Grace tells me,” Kat said, shaking her head, “that her senses are more alive than they’ve ever been. But her cheeks are a hectic hue, and she hasn’t been sleeping worth a fig. She makes no bones about boasting of her care for her Robin and he for her. Devil take that jackanapes popinjay!” she cried, turning back to Cecil.
    “We must keep calm,” Cecil urged, still holding his distance from the window as if that would help him stay objective about this mess.
    “I cannot. I only hope and pray, my lord, that Her Grace will listen to you about the Scots war—aboutsomething sobering. She and her Robin even go to each other’s bedchambers for visits, though if I try to scold her for that, she insists they are never really alone, with courtiers, servants, or me about. She’s always been willful, of course, but she’s just not herself!”
    He went over to pat Kat’s shoulder as his own anger grew. He still held his leather satchel with the treaty and other papers of international import for the queen to sign. Dudley was not to be trusted; his family had twice turned traitor to the crown. And he’d been ten years married, for heaven’s sake, so how dare he play the gallant lover?
    “Will you come out with me to find and face her down, Kat?” he asked, keeping his temper and voice on a tight rein.
    “That I will,” she said, squaring her plump shoulders. “Though she told me to stay here, you do need a guide to find the Turtle Cage in all those trees, don’t you?”
    “Yes, let’s go together,” he said, though he knew full well where to find the secluded place.
    “No, not that way, my lord,” Kat cried, gesturing as he made for the double doors. “Let’s take the privy staircase down and walk the covered passageways, just as she and Lord Robert did to ditch them all.”
    MEG MILLIGREW HAD NEVER BEEN HAPPIER. SHE WAS working with her beloved herbs and flowers, fashioning blossom necklaces for her dear queen and, betteryet, for handsome Lord Robin. She was with the queen’s principal player and sometimes fool, Ned Topside. Since she’d known him, she had secretly adored Ned, though