“I have another task for you,” she said when she could speak again. “I want you to go with Jane Dormer to Hatfield.”

I waited.

“Ask Elizabeth to swear on her immortal soul that if she inherits the kingdom she will keep the true faith,” she said, her voice a tiny thread but the conviction behind the words as strong as ever.

I hesitated. “She will not swear,” I said, knowing Elizabeth.

“Then I will not name her my heir,” she said flatly. “Mary Stuart in France would claim the throne with French blessing. Elizabeth has the choice. She can fight her way to the throne if she can find enough fools to follow her, or she can come to it with my blessing. But she has to swear to uphold the faith. And she has to mean it.”

“How will I know that she means it?” I asked.

She was too weary to turn her head to me. “Look at her with your gift, Hannah,” she said. “This is the last time I will ask you to see for me. Look at her with your gift and tell me what is the best thing for my England.”

I would have argued but simple pity for her made me hold my tongue. This was a woman clinging on to life by the thinnest thread. Only her desire to do her duty to God, to her mother’s God, and to her father’s country was keeping her alive. If she could secure Elizabeth’s promise then she could die knowing that she had done the best she could to keep England safe inside the Holy See.

I bowed and went from the room.


Jane Dormer, still recovering from her own fever and exhausted from nursing the queen, riding in a litter, and I, with Danny astride before me, made our way north to Hatfield and noted sourly the number of fine horses who were going in the same direction as us, from the ailing queen to the thriving heir.

The old palace was ablaze with lights. There was some sort of banquet in progress as we arrived. “I cannot break bread with her,” Jane said shortly. “Let us ask to see her, and leave.”

“Of course we can dine,” I said practically. “You must be starving, I am, and Danny needs to eat.”

She was white-faced and trembling with emotion. “I will not eat with that woman,” she hissed. “Who d’you think is in there? Half the nobility of England clamoring for a place, her greatest friends now, the very ones who sneered at her and despised her and named her as a bastard when our queen was in her power.”

“Yes,” I said flatly. “And the man you love, Count Feria, the Spanish ambassador, who once demanded her death, among them. Now he brings love letters from the queen’s own husband. Betrayal is no new thing in England. If you won’t break bread with men with false hearts you will starve to death, Jane.”

She shook her head. “You have no sense of what is right and wrong, Hannah. You are faithless.”

“I don’t think faith can be measured in what you eat,” I said, thinking of the bacon and shellfish I had eaten contrary to my people’s law. “I think faith is in your heart. And I love the queen and I admire the princess, and as for the rest, these false men and women, they will have to find their own ways to their own truths. You go and eat in the kitchen if it pleases you. I am going in to dine.”

I could have laughed at her astounded face. I lifted Danny up on to my hip and, braced against his weight, I walked into the dining hall at Hatfield.

Elizabeth had the trappings of queenship already, as if she were an actor practicing a part in the full costume. She had a gold canopy over a wooden chair so thickly carved and heavy that it might almost have been a throne. On her right hand she had the Spanish ambassador, as if to flaunt that connection; on her left hand was seated the most favored lord at this court, my Lord Robert. Beside him was the right-hand man of the Grand Inquisitor of London, the scourge of Protestantism, Dr. John Dee, on the other side of the Spanish ambassador was the princess’s cousin, who had once arrested her, now dearly beloved to his kin. Beyond him was a quietly ambitious man, a staunch Protestant: William Cecil. I looked at Elizabeth’s table and smiled. Nobody would be able to guess which way this cat might jump judging by those honored with seats beside her. She had put Spanish and English, Catholic and Protestant advisors side by side, who could deduce what was in her mind?

John Dee, looking down the hall, caught my smile and raised his hand to me in greeting. Lord Robert followed the direction of his gaze, saw me, and beckoned me forward. I threaded my way through the court and dropped a curtsey to the princess, who shot me a gleaming smile from her eyes like a jet arrow.

“Ah, it is the girl who was so afraid of being a woman that she first became a fool, and then became a widow,” she said acidly.

“Princess Elizabeth,” I said, curtseying as the words hit home.

“Have you come to see me?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Have you a message for me from the queen?”

“Yes, Princess.”

There was a little ripple of attention all along the table.

“Is Her Majesty in good health?” The Spanish ambassador, Count Feria, leaned forward, taking the heat from the exchange.

“You would surely know better than I,” I said with a sourness which came easily to me, seeing him at Elizabeth’s table. “Since she writes intimately to only one person, since she loves one man in all the world, and he is your master.”

Elizabeth and my lord exchanged a hidden smile at my rudeness. The count turned his head away.

“You may take a seat with my ladies and see me privately after dinner,” the princess ruled. “Did you come alone with your son?”

I shook my head. “Jane Dormer came with me, and we were escorted by two gentlemen from the queen’s household.”

The count turned quickly back. “Mistress Dormer is here?”

“She is dining alone,” I said, my face insolently blank. “She did not want to keep this company.”

Elizabeth bit her lip to hide another smile, and waved me to the table. “I see you are not so choosy,” she taunted me.

I met her bright black gaze without shrinking. “Dinner is dinner, Princess. And both of us have gone hungry in the past.”

She laughed at that and nodded at them to make a space for me. “She has become a witty fool,” she said to Lord Robert. “I am glad of it. I never had much faith in seeings and predictions.”

“Once she told me a pretty vision,” he said, his voice very low, his eyes on me but his smile for her.

“Oh?”

“She told me I would be adored by a queen.”

They both laughed, that low-voiced chuckle of conspiring lovers, and he smiled down the hall at me. I met his gaze with a face like flint.


“What is the matter with you?” Elizabeth demanded of me after dinner. We were standing in an alcove in the gallery at Hatfield. Elizabeth’s court was at a distance, our words hidden by the playing of a lute nearby.

“I don’t like Count Feria,” I said bluntly.

“You made that clear enough. Do you really think I will allow you to come into my dinner and insult my guests? You took off a fool’s livery, you will have to behave like a lady.”

I smiled. “Since I carry a message that you want to hear I think you will listen to it before you have me thrown out of the gates, whether I am a fool or a lady.”

She laughed at my impertinence.

“And I doubt that you like him either,” I said boldly. “First he was your enemy, now he is your friend. There are many such as him around you now, I should imagine.”

“Most of this court. And you among them.”

I shook my head. “I have always admired you both.”

“You love her more than you love me,” she insisted jealously.

I laughed aloud at her childishness; and Lord Robert, standing near, turned to look at me with a smile. “But Princess, she loves me, and you have never done anything but abuse me and accuse me of being her spy.”

Elizabeth laughed too. “Yes. But I don’t forget that you came to serve me in the Tower. And I don’t forget that you brought me a true vision. When you smelled the smoke from the burnings I knew then that I must become queen and bring peace to this country.”

“Well, amen to that,” I said.

“And what is your message?” she asked more soberly.

“Can we talk in your privy chamber? And can I bring Jane Dormer to you?”

“With Lord Robert,” she stipulated. “And John Dee.”

I bowed my head and followed her as she walked down the gallery to her chamber. The court billowed into bows as she went past as if she were queen already. I smiled, remembering a day when she had limped with her shoe in her hand and no one had offered her an arm. Now they would lay down their cloaks in the mud to keep her feet dry.

We went into her chamber and Elizabeth took a small wooden chair by the fireside. She gestured that I could pull up a stool and I took it to the other side of the fire, put Danny on my knee, and leaned back against the wooden paneling. I had a sense that I should be quiet and listen. The queen wanted me to advise her if Elizabeth would keep the true faith. I had to listen through the words to the meaning behind them. I had to look through the mask of her smiling face and into her heart.

The door opened, and Jane came into the room. She swept Elizabeth the scantest of curtseys and stood before her. Elizabeth gestured her to sit.

“I will stand, if it please you,” Jane said stiffly.

“You have business with me.” Elizabeth invited her to begin.

“The queen has asked Hannah and me to come to you and put a question to you. The queen requires you to make your answer in very truth. She would want you to swear on your soul that the answer you give is the truth and the whole truth.”

“And what is this question?”

Danny squirmed in my lap and I shifted him in a little closer, putting his small head against my cheek, so that I could look over him to the princess’s pale face.