wishes, she had not changed her opinion of Robert and his reckless ambition. I did not ask her though. I did not want to know the truth and damage the bond between us.
I was surrounded by friends and family congratulating me; the faces spun about me like a whirling top and in the mêlée I lost sight of Robert. It was odd how even at my own wedding I seemed to get lost in the crowd, overlooked amongst the peacocking crowd of courtiers, and without my husband I felt inconsequential and vulnerable. The King and his attendants swept out to attend the feast. My new father-in-law strode away without a glance in my direction whilst the Seymour girls looked down their aristocratic noses and whispered behind their hands.
My mother was tugging on my arm. ‘Where is Robert?’
I did not know. ‘I’ll find him,’ I said.
She matched my steps back down the empty aisle of the chapel. I wished she would not accompany me but did not feel I could dismiss her. Now that the church was no longer crammed with guests it looked huge and grand, a whispering gallery of all the moments in time and history the place had witnessed. Yet the whispering was real. I could hear it, soft but persistent.
‘I will not fail you. I’ll never fail you. I swear it.’
I found them behind a pillar on the south side of the transept where the sunlight fell through the window glass to make distorted puddles of light on the stone. The light was also on her upturned face, for Robert was taller than she. Once again, I was struck by her pallor and delicacy, so much at odds with the fierce will that showed in her eyes. They were standing very close together and their hands were clasped. I saw a strand of her red gold hair brush against his cheek.
My mother gave a sharp gasp beside me. Robert straightened; turned. I could not understand the expression I saw on his face. It was too complex, too far from anything in my experience. There was love and protectiveness, but not the lust I had expected. Nor did he look guilty or ashamed. He let go of her hands so slowly and then he bowed to her with elaborate charm.
‘I am sorry that you do not feel well enough to attend the wedding feast, madam,’ he said. ‘I will see you are escorted to your rooms.’
Elizabeth nodded. ‘Thank you.’ Her golden-brown gaze dwelt on my face for a moment, mercilessly devoid of warmth. ‘I wish you joy on your marriage, Mistress Dudley,’ she said, then slipped past me and disappeared into the shadows of the church.
Mother opened her mouth to speak and I pinched her arm hard to quiet her.
‘There you are, my dear,’ I said lightly to Robert, as though we had been married for years, as though there was nothing amiss at all. ‘Your father bids us to the feast. Once you have seen the Lady Elizabeth safely to her quarters, of course.’ And I stood aside to let him follow her down the nave and did not look at him at all.
Chapter 7
Lizzie: Present Day
Lizzie woke suddenly. In her dream she had been falling, the crystal gazing ball shattering in her hands, spilling blood across the flagstones of the floor. She lay still, gasping for breath, as her mind caught up with reality; her sweat-drenched pyjamas, the pounding in her head. She opened her eyes and saw the familiar outlines of her bedroom in the half light of an early autumn dawn. The thundering of her heart settled a little. She was at home, she was alone and she knew she ought to feel reassured but the dregs of the dream still lingered and her mind was shadowed with something formless and dark.
The day before had been vile. The lawyers had arrived to brief her at eight for her interview at Blackfriars police station at eleven. She’d only been listening to them with half an ear because really, Amelia Lester’s death had nothing to do with her and she was only helping police with their inquiries to build up a fuller picture of Dudley and Amelia’s life, or so she had told herself. She had toyed with her fruit juice whilst a smooth corporate brief told her the facts of Amelia’s death: that she had been found by one of the cleaners at the bottom of the stairs on the afternoon of 8th September. She