“Your Majesty?” William Hastings advanced two paces toward the Presence chair and flourished a bow to the queen. Another two paces, another bow. “Your Majesty?” William Hastings advanced two paces toward the Presence chair and flourished a bow to the queen. Another two paces, another bow.
“Stop!”
William looked up, startled. “Stop this. You’ll be all morning getting here.”
For one bright moment the chamberlain thought the queen had made a joke, but a quick glance at Elizabeth Wydeville’s somber face and he squashed that happy thought. The queen’s eyes had a dangerous hot glitter. William knew the signs and knew what to do. He moved forward faster, as gracefully as he could, and knelt on one knee at the foot of the dais.
“Your Majesty is radiant this morning.” A gallant lie, but gallant lies were useful things. Would the queen acknowledge his sally? No. Elizabeth, now that he saw her face at close range, actually looked close to tears.
“Tell them to go. All of them.”
William stood and surveyed the crowded Presence chamber. From the queen’s expression, the court could sense something was brewing and, almost without him seeing them do it, as a body they were creeping closer and closer to the Presence chair, just in case there was something juicy to pick up on as the chamberlain spoke with the queen. William clapped his hands sharply and there was an audible mutter. Dismissed! And just as things were getting interesting.
The chamberlain ignored the whispers and the smothered sighs of disappointment. He waited patiently until it pleased the queen to speak. The great doors closed on the last of the court; Elizabeth beckoned Hastings forward.
“Did you find her?”
Hastings had prepared himself for this conversation, had thought carefully of what he needed to say to gain the best advantage from this awkward situation.
“No, Your Majesty, I did not. The Lady Anne de Bohun had already left her home.”
The queen did not seem surprised. She nodded and slumped a little in her chair, which confused William momentarily. Could news have traveled this fast from Somerset?
“And? What else?”
The chamberlain smiled confidently. “Your Majesty, I know where she is.” The queen stared into William’s eyes. She beckoned him again. He stood on the lower step of the dais; she waved him closer still. Now he stood beside her Presence chair.
“So do I,” she whispered in his ear, a tickling sensation. In suppressing the urge to scratch his ear, William was distracted and completely unprepared when Elizabeth screamed, “He’s with her now. He’s been with her all night!”
The sheer volume of sound nearly made the chamberlain fall backward. Automatically, he put out a hand to save himself and his fingers closed around one arm of the queen’s chair; the arm on which the queen was leaning.
“Don’t touch me. How dare you!”
Elizabeth was furious and William was bewildered and confused. And shamed. The queen’s person was sacred, not to be touched by unconsecrated hands.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty!”
William stumbled to the floor and knelt, head bent, to hide his flaming face. There was silence, though Hastings was certain his heart had migrated to his mouth and, if he opened it, the queen would hear its agitated thud.
“What am I to do, William? The king loves that woman. He will abandon me. Send me to a convent.”
She never called him William. Cautiously, the chamberlain raised his eyes and saw something remarkable. The queen was actually crying in front of him, oblivious of appearances. He’d never seen her cry before. The tears fell in a minor torrent, dropping onto the fingers she’d twisted together in her satin lap, dripping from the ends of her nose and her chin. They were real tears, not decorative in the least.
William held his breath. This was, potentially, an opening to the first big realignment of power and influence since the king had returned. The high chamberlain of England recognized his moment and seized it. “Your Majesty, I agree that the Lady Anne is a problem, for the king and, potentially, for the country. But do not despair. Later today there is someone I believe you should meet. Someone with much to tell us about the Lady Anne de Bohun…”