Encounters With a Medusa
A/N:
I have decided to ignore the existence of Cromwell's wife and son. The romance is rather fast paced, but I figure this is more like little snippets, there are days or weeks in between each chapter. Eleanor is my OC.
1
Standing within a circle of empty space was a woman with her chin lifted defiantly. She was watching the couples dancing, as was most of the court from beyond the invisible ring around the woman. From his vantage point up in the gallery, the Lord Privy Seal, noticed the abnormality of empty space, but could not discern what made the lady so impossible to be near. She wasn't ugly, quite the contrary. She was tall, with delicate facial bones, large green eyes and lips not quite perfect, yet certainly memorable enough. The dark red of her dress set off her auburn hair, and complemented her pale skin tone.
"Who is that young lady?" the Lord Privy Seal asked his attendant.
"I'm not sure my lord; she must be new at court."
"If you would allow me, Master Cromwell," Francis Bryant said from behind the men, "I know that woman. She is indeed new to court."
"Well, who is she?" Cromwell asked again.
Bryant gave a small smirk. "She is called many things. Some call her the Fury, others the Hellion, but my personal favourite is Medusa."
"What?"
Bryant wiped the amusement from his face. "Her name is Lady Eleanor Brandon, the niece of his grace the Duke of Suffolk. Her father recently died, and she's now in the care of Suffolk, who brought her to court hoping for a place among the Queen's ladies. Unfortunately, by the time she arrived, Queen Jane had already died, God rest her soul."
"Suffolk's niece? Has she any other family?"
"No. Her father left her his entire fortune."
"Indeed? She has no siblings?"
"No, my lord. Not a one. She's become quite a catch. The only problem is, she drives every man, and woman for that matter, away within a day of meeting them."
"And that is why no one is near her?"
"Yes."
"Suffolk's niece."
"Yes, my lord."
"I must introduce myself."
"If you say so, my lord."
Cromwell descended the stairs and made his way through the crowd towards the lady. The features which he had noted from afar, when taken all together from this distance, held a certain fierceness, as if the lady was not quite tame. It seemed to confirm what Bryant had said about her temperament. Breaching the invisible boundary around her, Cromwell stepped up beside the lady.
"Would I be right in thinking you are the niece of his grace the Duke of Suffolk?"
The lady sighed. "Don't play games, Master Cromwell. It doesn't become you. You know very well who I am, or you would not be speaking to me."
Cromwell ducked his head. "Lady Eleanor."
"Better. What was your purpose in approaching me?"
"Must a man have a purpose to approach a beautiful woman?"
"You must. You always have a scheme afoot, or so everyone says. And you have no fondness for my uncle."
"Some may say so-"
"I say so."
A long pause ensued.
"Good day, Lady Eleanor." Cromwell bowed.
The lady didn't reply, keeping her eyes on the dance as the Lord Privy Seal left her side.
"Well?" Bryant asked when Cromwell returned to the gallery.
"She does indeed have venom in her tongue, and steel in her gaze."
"What was that about?" the Duchess of Suffolk asked, eyeing Thomas Cromwell as she stepped to her niece's side.
"Nothing, Aunt. Just more of the same."
The Duchess sighed. "I wish you wouldn't be so difficult all the time."
"How can I help what God made me?"
The Duchess sighed again.