was quite lost upon Sir Thomas as his attention was caught by another friend, and he began to move away. Not so with Hester, who appeared to be getting the hang of social chit-chat with a remarkable degree of clumsiness. ‘Oh, you didn’t tell me that,’ she said to Adorna, ignoring the bright pink flush that had risen in her cousin’s cheeks. ‘Did Sir Nicholas…er…did you really…?’
‘Sir Nicholas is jesting, Hester dear,’ Adorna almost snarled, looking daggers at the man to warn him not to say another word. ‘Remind me to tell you how some men enjoy making ladies blush, will you?’ She took Hester’s arm in a firm grip to steer her away.
Hester, however, had taken the bit firmly between her teeth. ‘But Sir Nicholas would not do that, would you, Sir Nicholas?’ she said, resisting the pressure.
‘Yes, he would,’ Adorna said, under her breath. Her glance across at her parents gave her even more cause for concern, for now there were eyes flickering in her direction as snippets of gossip were passed back and forth by their friends, heads nodding, smiles of surprise, grimaces of shock. She could not doubt that she and Sir Nicholas were the topic of their conversation.
Sir Nicholas himself offered her little consolation. ‘Yes, I would,’ he said to Hester. ‘But you should also ask Mistress Adorna to explain that a blush of embarrassment doesn’t necessarily imply guilt. Ask her about it, Mistress Hester.’
This was getting too deep for her. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said, looking as if she had already lost the thread. ‘Yes, I will.’ She bobbed a curtsy, glanced once more at the rosy signs of Adorna’s extreme vexation, and moved away to join Lady Pickering, presumably to hear the details with which Adorna had not supplied her.
Adorna herself would have left Sir Nicholas at that point had he not kept hold of her arm. ‘No, sir,’ she hissed. ‘Let me go now. How could you have begun such a conversation before my father and Hester? Now they’ll think—’
‘What will they think?’ he said, close to her ear. ‘Are you pretending that your parents will never hear that we were together at the masque? That they’ll never know how you stood in for Lady Mary? Of course they will. Look at that crowd. They can hardly wait to talk about it. What d’ye think they’re saying, then?’
The temptation to look was strong, but she could not do it while the embarrassment was so plainly written upon her face. She could not even meet Sir Nicholas’s eyes as she replied, ‘How could I possibly know what they’re saying?’
‘Well, I’ll tell you.’
‘Don’t.’
‘They’re talking about the Water Maiden who refused to be caught. About how she—’
‘Stop!’
‘How she wore a gauzy bodice everyone could see through and—’
‘Please!’
‘And how the Deputy Master of Horse kissed her there before them all, while she struggled in his arms. Then they danced with each other and no one else. Can you hear that roar of laughter? Your father. Your mother and Hester are looking shocked. Well? Would you prefer to go and join them and be invited to explain, or would you rather leave with me and not have to explain anything?’
There appeared to be no choice left to her. The blush, now intensified, was certainly not what she wanted to exhibit to anyone, nor did she wish to see their expressions of shock and amusement. She could guess what they would be saying. ‘Adorna Pickering caught at last? Do explain…she what?’
Without bothering to answer, she followed him quickly out through the small north door into a courtyard and from there through a maze of passageways, smaller courtyards and doors that led on to Paradise Road. ‘I can find my own way from here, sir,’ she said, looking to see if anyone else was about. The track was deserted.
He began to walk with her. ‘You couldn’t find it last night though, could you?’
‘Sir Nicholas, it really is most discourteous of you to insist on reminding me of an incident I would rather forget. Now that there is no one to see, there is no point in continuing to embarrass me. Whatever happened last night is past and gone. It will never happen again. Never. I regret the whole incident and, most of all, I regret the part you played in it. It’s a mercy to me that I cannot recall much of what happened, which you will no doubt see as a chance to make up whatever you like and tell all your gossipy friends. Now, please will you go and leave me to walk home alone.’
‘You have little choice in the matter, my girl,’ he said with his arm across her back. ‘You can either walk sedately by my side to Sheen House or you can be carried there as you were last night. Make up your mind. Which is it to be?’
‘You are insufferable, sir!’
He smiled at her fury, urging her forward. ‘Pity you remember so little, you in your flimsy kirtle in the garden afterwards, and me wrapping you in my—’
She drew back a hand to hit him, to put a stop to the shameful picture she had no wish to see. But this time he was prepared, and she was slowed by the dull thudding in her head. He caught her hand well before it made contact, pulling her uncomfortably close to him in a restricting embrace. ‘That’s enough!’ he said, sternly. ‘So I shall not give you any more details except for one reminder that you must have missed.’
‘And that, sir?’
‘That the game of chase has ended and that you had better start to regard yourself as mine. Which is exactly how those people in there…’ he tipped his head towards the palace wall ‘…are seeing you, whether you like it or not. Far better to go along with it. Less confusing for everybody.’
Only a week or so ago, she would have argued herself in circles at his arrogant assertion that she belonged to anybody. To be held in his arms was something kept only for the night’s secrets, but to be added to his list of conquests was quite a different thing. Yet the appalling headache of the morning had left her feeling distinctly unsteady, and now she was unable to summon up enough strength to continue the contest. ‘Let me go, sir, please, just let me go. We can finish this conversation another time. Tomorrow, perhaps.’ The fields and trees swirled dizzily into a black void as a tingling sensation froze her arms and legs. She had had nothing to eat all day. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘I need to sit…down…’
And so it was that Adorna Pickering, against every resolution to keep this man at a distance, was carried once more up Paradise Road, this time in broad daylight, to Sheen House where Maybelle and the Pickerings’ loyal chamberlain were there to take receipt of her yet again.
It was not the most dignified way to end the day, but at least it gave her an excuse to avoid the interrogation that her parents had intended for her after church.
By Monday morning, when they had had time to put the events into some perspective, they had agreed that, all in all, Sir Nicholas’s appropriation of their beloved daughter at the masque was probably no bad thing, even if she had suffered some embarrassment by it. After all, they reasoned, she could have been even more embarrassed without his protection, and he had, apart from the horseplay, behaved in a careful fashion. A storm in a wineglass, one might say.
Sir Thomas returned to Sheen House from the palace, mid-morning, waving a letter he had just received from the Queen thanking him for his efforts last evening. He found Adorna in the still-room preparing some rosewater, her hands deep in a bowl of petals. ‘Well, my lass,’ he said. ‘Her Majesty must have approved of your performance at the masque enough to invite you to go up to Kenilworth with me on Wednesday. I shall have to go with the Wardrobe, even though his lordship is doing his own entertainments, but I shall need all the help I can get with the robes. Are you interested?’
No, she thought, Sir Nicholas will be there. Travelling with us, too. I must stay well away from him now. Far better if I remain here, beyond his reach. But the Queen’s invitation was not something one could decline. It was a royal command. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course I am, Father.’
‘Good,’