The Other Countess Read Online Free Page B

who the peacocks were that had made Cecil’s life a misery. Walter Ralegh, a renowned son of Devon, fresh from the Irish campaign, had been cutting a dash recently. More fool him if he had spurned Cecil, for he had the ear of one of the most powerful men in the country. Will would not make the same mistake.
    ‘I’ve never had many feathers to flaunt, Master Cecil, so I hope my conversation will not disappoint.’
    ‘You won’t have to try too hard to beat the fools who fill the court with their galliards, capers and odes to their mistress’s eyebrow.’
    ‘I can promise you I have never composed a line.’
    ‘Excellent. Leave that to Sidney and those who can rhyme.’ Cecil paused to bow to a sharp-faced nobleman dressed in severe black, a close-fitting cap covering his hair. ‘On your way to see my father, sir?’
    ‘Indeed, Master Cecil. Is he within?’ The gentleman’s voice was soft but chilling.
    ‘Yes, sir, and he is expecting you.’
    The man swept on with a swish of fur-trimmed robes around booted ankles.
    ‘That was Sir Francis Walsingham,’ Cecil said aside to Will. ‘A useful gentleman for you to know. They’re calling him England’s Spy Master.’ He quirked a wry smile. ‘Not a man to cross.’
    ‘I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Cecil, but I pray I have no need to call on him. I intend to keep my lands free of plots and stratagems.’
    ‘Quite so, but the threat to the Queen’s person is regrettably very real, else my father would not be paying you to keep Berkshire safe. Ah, here’s Benton.’
    The clerk had Will’s first pay ready in a pouch – three hundred gold coins. There had clearly never been any question in Benton’s mind that the earl would be along to fetch it.
    ‘Your brothers await you in the fountain courtyard, my lord,’ Benton said, marking receipt of the money in his ledger.
    Robert Cecil bowed a farewell. ‘Until later, my lord.’
    Will tucked the heavy purse into his doublet and bounded down the stairs, wondering just what he had sold to Burghley.
    ‘Well?’ asked James, pouncing on him as he emerged.
    ‘I’ll tell you when we are alone,’ Will said swiftly, toppling Tobias from the fountain ledge to hurry him away. As they reached a quiet corner of the castle, he briefly recounted the interview.
    ‘Three hundred! Gads, that’s a fair purse!’ Tobias exclaimed. ‘Can I have a new horse?’
    ‘No!’ Will and James replied in unison.
    ‘I have to spend it on my appearance at the joust. As it was, I was going in our father’s old armour on a broke-backed warhorse; at least now I can show myself to some advantage,’ continued Will.
    ‘Give me the purse and I’ll go see the armourer,’ offered James.
    His brother’s interest in all things military had already endeared him to the castle smith so Will knew James stood the best chance of stretching their money a long way.
    ‘I’m in your debt.’ He passed him the purse.
    James took it and stowed it safely away. ‘We’re in everyone’s debt, Will; that’s the trouble.’

3
    Lady Jane Perceval stood in front of the mottled glass in her chamber and surveyed her reflection critically. She adjusted the bodice on the tight stomacher of ivory damask to push her breasts up higher. Humming in disapproval as a small pox mark showed on the swelling mound, she dabbed her skin with ceruse, a paste of vinegar and white lead, ensuring all visible areas of skin were flawless white. Her honey brown hair was looped over her ears and caught up in a pearl-edged headdress. Her lips were fashionably reddened by cochineal dye.
    ‘Well?’ She spun before her maid.
    ‘You look very beautiful, mistress,’ Nell replied, knowing that failure to praise might result in a box on the ear. ‘You will be the loveliest lady at court. As fresh as a flower.’
    Jane bit her lip, trying to feel as confident as her maid. She had many people to face down that evening. Her father’s lavish gift of a wardrobe for her