Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,40
respect she deserves. She is next in line to the throne. Have you forgotten that?”
“I hope she never sits upon it. She is a Papist. She has no busin—”
I reached for Jane and shook her hard, then dealt her a smart slap across the cheek. “You have behaved abominably since we have come here,” I said when I had released her. “Do you think I didn’t notice how insolent you were to Lady Wharton? Are you so stupid—yes, that is right, stupid—so as to think that she will not tell the lady Mary what you said to her? And this dress! It is worth a fortune, and beautiful besides that, and you acted as if you were conferring a great favor upon the lady Mary by accepting it! Well, this has come to an end. You will allow Rose to make the necessary alterations, and you will wear it at dinner tomorrow, and you will smile and be pleasant to Mary. Do you understand?”
Jane’s face bore a white mark where I had slapped her, and she was fighting back tears. Looking at her, I longed to take her into my arms, but I forced myself to stare at her coldly. “Yes, my lady,” she whispered.
“Good. I will send Rose to you shortly. If you are anything less than cooperative, I assure you I will hear about it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Good. Tonight after supper, there will no doubt be card playing. You will probably be asked to join the lady Mary and me at her table. If so, you will give no sign that you are not enjoying yourself, or the slap I dealt you just now will look like a pinch as compared to what you will receive. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Good. Stay here until you are sent for. I wish to see no more of you for now.” I touched Kate and little Mary, who were staring at me with unmitigated terror. They’d never seen me scold Jane, or anyone, with such fury before. “Come along, girls.”
***
That evening, we did indeed play cards, and Jane indeed sat with the lady Mary, Susan Clarencius, and myself. She was a model of good deportment, speaking only when spoken to by her elders, smiling graciously at all the appropriate moments—and trouncing the princess mercilessly. Furious at my daughter as I still was, I could not help but smile as I watched Mary’s servant duly hand Jane her winnings. I hadn’t, after all, instructed her that she had to lose.
The next day at supper, Jane appeared in Mary’s dress. So well did it suit her, it was difficult to believe it had been made for another woman. “Why, you look beautiful,” I whispered as Jane took her place beside me, her back rigid and her smile fixed. “Like a young lady of fifteen. If your father could see you now! He would be so proud.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Mary entered and took her place of honor in between us, smiling her approval at Jane’s garb. She took a dainty sip of wine, and I followed suit. Jane picked up her own wine cup and lifted it to her lips. As I watched, the heavy gold cup tipped in her hand, spilling its contents all over Jane’s elaborate gown. “Oh, no! How clumsy of me.” Jane turned toward Mary, her eyes pleading. “I have ruined it, and you were so kind—”
“It is no matter,” Mary said, her smile as fixed as Jane’s had been a few moments before. “A mere accident.”
***
“I didn’t mean to, my lady! Truly!” Jane looked up at me pleadingly as I, in the privacy of her chamber, jerked her to me. Suddenly I realized she looked a great deal like my mother in times of distress. “It was an accident, just as I told the lady Mary. I was flustered with all of those people looking at me in my dress, and it was a heavier cup than usual. Please, my lady, believe me.”
I relaxed my grip upon Jane. Was she telling the truth? After all these years of motherhood, I could not read her well enough to guess. Perhaps Harry could have. The thought wearied me so much I released her and let my hand drop to my side. “Very well. I shall take your word for it and not punish you. It is only the front panel that was ruined, after all. But if I ever find out that you acted deliberately…”