Chapter XI
Proposal
Several weeks had passed since Bess's encounter with Lord Hertford and she had hardly glimpsed him since. His work now occupied every waking moment and many of those which should have been used for sleep. He barely walked the halls of their apartments and never visited his lady wife's bedchamber in the long nights where Bess lay awake. She used to hear them through the walls. And the sounds made her stomach churn with a tumble of jealousy and desire. As Isabel was snuggled soundly asleep Bess would press her ear against the chamber wall and strain to hear his heavy breathing, the creaking of the bed, his groans of pleasure when he was finished. She gorged on the musical tones of his desire, fed on them. Lived for them now.
It was one of the many changes that Bess had encountered in her stay at court. She found herself learning the ropes more quickly now, engaging in the female arts of gossip and deception. Her wiles grew with every passing day. And with them the gnawing feeling in her belly that she wanted her master, needed him. He was the flame and she the moth. He was the spider and she the fly. He and his voice like whisky over ice danced in her dreams at night and left her aching with a newfound craving. She would carefully slip a hand beneath the covers and gingerly stroke the wetness she would find each night in the darkness.
So now, during the time Bess spent with the stable boy Richard, she found herself wanting to do things to him to test out her lust. Evil, tempting things which her village priest had always warned against. Those things which her sisters had whispered about in the shadows of their shared room when they thought she had slept. She walked with him in the forests during the half day she had free each fortnight and sometimes stood with him on the balcony to watch the parties of court come evening. He was warm and kind but Bess admitted guiltily to herself that she felt none of the stirrings which her master aroused. She wrestled with her conscience day and night, sometimes wishing for him to be more like Edward Seymour and sometimes praying that he would never become that way at all.
One night as Bess lay in her bed she heard a familiar noise from behind the wall. She eased herself up and nestled against the stone hoping for a dose of her favourite drug. But the sounds that permeated through were not those of her lord master. They were new and unwelcome. The grunts and moans were strange and strangled and a sudden rush of fear flashed through the serving girl when she imagined her mistress was in trouble and not in the embrace of her husband. Her hands flattened to the wall as if to push herself through it, begging for a different outcry. At the moment of a loud wail Bess leapt from her bed and skittering from the room and along the hallway, snatching a heavy silver candelabrum from a side table, she burst through her mistress's door.
"My lady!" She cried, wielding her weapon like an axe. Upon seeing the huddled mess, half tangled in sheets, barely able to make out the shapes in the blackness Bess shouted. "Guard! Help us."
A figure jumped from the bed and smacked a hand over her mouth. "Shut your mouth! Stupid, fucking servant."
"What do you think you are doing Bess?" Lady Anne snarled from the rumpled bedding. "Get out of here. Now."
The man released her and Bess dropped the candelabra to the ground where it fell with a clamour of solid silver on solid wood. "I-I thought you were being attacked, my lady. I thought you were in trouble."
"Get out!" The mistress hissed venomously. "I will deal with you come the morning."
As Bess slid back into her own bed her heart was thumping furiously beneath her breast. Her lady had taken a lover. She had forsaken that which Bess would hold most dear. She had abandoned the most dangerous, perfect man in the world. Her mind spun dizzily and the serving girl fell unconscious with exhaustion before her head hit the pillow.
Bess sat across from Lady Anne. The graceful noble woman rapped her filed fingers against the polished wood of the table, her eyes were dark and beady and ripe with impatience.
"You will tell not one soul what you witnessed last night Bess. Do you understand me clearly?"
"I do, my lady."
"And yet you do not understand what you saw."
"I understand what I saw my lady but not why I saw it."
"You are insolent Bess Crofter. You are not yet the dab hand of court life you think yourself to be, you are still a child." Lady Anne was cold and calculated. She leant back in her cushioned chair like a stretching cat and then reached to pour two cups of fine wine. "I have a proposition for you, girl. Will you hear it?"
Bess wrapped one hand around her cup curiously before bringing it to her lips for a deliberate sip. Then she nodded respectfully.
"You know well that my Lord husband no longer visits my chamber nightly, he is too pre-occupied with the King's affairs. As a fellow woman you must understand the needs a lady feels when left unattended for too long a time." Bess bowed her head a little; ashamed of the urges she had felt building towards her lady's husband. "You must understand that my marriage is one of convenience, Bess. My family melded themselves to the Seymour's with the hope they would rise to success. My Lord husband is a charismatic man and a skilled politician, but he needed a partner to fill what he lacks. If a friendship or allegiance slips through his fingers, then my husband will deploy me to charm the man in only the way a woman can. I care not, my body belongs to my Lord husband. But it also belongs to me," She turned fully to look at Bess and her eyes gleamed in the chalky sun filtering through the windows. "I would have a companion visit me in my husband's stead to service what must be serviced. My husband cares not for whom I fancy nor who I take to my chamber, but he is a jealous man Bess and if I find a new toy then he must have one as well. Understand that as a member of our household you too are dependent on the rise of our name. My husband is so busy, and he cares not for my company, but if he desires yours then it is your responsibility to oblige him, to keep him satisfied and calm in the face of pressure. You know this, yes?"
"Y-yes."
"I would not have offered you this chance Bess, but our situation is precarious." Disaster had struck the Seymour family. Queen Anne was pregnant for a second time. And she had proclaimed it would be a son. The position of the Seymours hung in the balance. If the baby was born healthy and it was indeed a son, then the marriage of King Henry and Queen Anne's marriage would be secure. The Boleyn family would be untouchable and if Edward's favour with the King did not hold out then they would be shipped back to their manor with no hopes of further advancement in court. To the ambitious Seymours this was an unacceptable and dicey situation. "So, let us speak frankly. Do you desire my lord husband?"
There was a long and pregnant pause but before Bess could muster the courage to answer Lady Anne did so for her. "You need not answer, it is scrawled on your face as clear as day. So answer me this instead servant, will you fulfil the responsibilities which are required of you?"
With a flutter of butterflies in her stomach Bess finally replied "If my lady so wishes, I will oblige her will."
"You need not pretend that this is a chore." Lady Anne flashed a set of cold white teeth in a tiger's smile. Lady Anne's voice was all-knowing and smug. "You want to be like me, don't you? Do not think I do not see you Bess Crofter, see the way you admire my gowns, my jewels, my furs. My husband. You desire this life. You desire my life."
The two women took a drink of wine and Bess took a deep breath. Lady Anne watched the rise and fall of small breasts, plump with youth. She soaked in the pale white of her skin, the murky depths of her enormous eyes and the red swell of chewed lips. She smiled again. "I do not think it will take much time to teach you. I believe we shall both have what we want Bess Crofter."
Then her mistress lifted a dainty, ringed hand across the table temptingly. "Do we have an accord?"
Bess took the offering cautiously. "I believe we do." She raised her cup with her eyes fixed on the other woman. "My lady."
That evening after Lady Anne was dressed in her finest and Bess in a gown borrowed from Isabel the women descended to the grand hall to attend the festivities King Henry VIII was throwing in celebration of his wife's pregnancy. There were flowers everywhere and candles burnt on very surface. The scent of perfume and wine, the sweet sound of choral voices, fiddles and drums all assaulted Bess's senses. As they passed through the wide doors into the hall Bess caught sight of Richard where he stood on the balcony above. He raised his wine cup with a smile that cloaked her in comforting warmth. But there was a look in his eye which signalled a change in him. Bess bowed her head away coyly. It was later when Bess stood with Isabel drinking and flirting with other courtiers that she felt a strong grip around her waist. She knew instantly that it was not her lord and master, the touch was too warm, too familiar, to nice. She tilted her head to see Richard's flash of white teeth.
"You look beautiful, miss crofter." She did. The dress she had borrowed from Isabel was the same shade of dark blue as her eyes and the silk shone in a multitude of colours when it gulping in flickers of candlelight. Like a slick of oil. Her black hair was caught up off her swanlike neck and heavy jewels hung from her earlobes.
She giggled, swatting at him as easily as ever. But then over his shoulder Bess caught sight of lord Hertford. She swallowed hard, holding his gaze as steadily as she could. Richard leaned down to whisper something in her ear but she was distracted by the metal in her master's eyes.
"Would you come for a walk with me Bess, I have something important to ask you?"
"I-I-I-y-yes, I mean, yes of course, of course I will."
Richard swept a muscled arm around her waist and Bess could feel Edward's furious eyes on her back as they left the hall. She turned her head to glimpse him with all the innocence could muster. Bess wanted him to follow to see her closeness with Richard and for his feelings of desire for her to re-spark.
In the semi-darkness of an abandoned hallway Richard turned to Bess where she stood against the wall. He fiddled awkwardly with his fingers before settling them on her waist. In Bess' belly something churned. Was it guilt?
"Bess Crofter…I had wanted to ask you something for some time now and I couldn't put it off any longer."
"What is it Richard?" Anxiousness coursed through her, she didn't want to hurt him.
"I hope you know I would never hurt you or disrespect you, that you're too good for me and I do not deserve you, but I wondered if there was any way that you would agree to a match with me. I-I, what I mean to ask is…Bess…will you give me your hand in marriage?"
She was silent in a kind of sickly surprise. "I-I-I."
"I've shocked you!" He let out a strangled chuckle. "Of course, I am sorry. Think on it, Bess. I would wait a lifetime for your answer."
He was staring at her with those big brown eyes, so sweet and harmless. He was a handsome man, a simple man yes, but the sort of man that she had always assumed she would marry. But now, now that it was offered Bess realised that she wanted more. She wanted someone who could make her blood pulse faster in her veins or make her shiver with desire at his touch. She didn't want the life she could so easily have back in her village.
Court had made the farmer's daughter ambitious and it made her ill.
As if seizing the opportunity that he might never have again Richard the stable boy launched himself onto the girl, pressing her to the wall in a sweet kiss. Bess found her lips moving with his, not blocking his attempts as he pushed his tongue between her lips. The strong hands of stable work cradled her waist as if she was a fragile baby bird. Although she felt nothing Bess couldn't bring herself to pull away and sensing this Richard became for forceful.
His lips moved quicker, more passionately, over her lips and down to her neck. His fingers tilting her face, so he might have better access to the smooth white skin. He kissed the same place Lord Hertford had done and upon that memory flickering in her mind Bess let out a little gasp. This only spurned Richard on. He grabbed one of her thighs beneath the dress reaching to hook it against the other wall in the alcove where they huddled. His weathered fingers scrambled to bunch the gown out of the way and reach what was underneath. He brushed what no man had ever touched before, and Bess's eyes flew open.
At the end of the hallway Edward Seymour slouched against a wall, watching.
"Stop." She stuttered, pulling away.
Richard straightened himself forcefully, raking a hand through dishevelled hair, his cheeks flushed with passion. "I-I apologise." He squeezed her hand, "think on your answer Bess." And then he disappeared before she had the chance to reply.
She stood breathing nervously, watching her master, then she curtsied low. Her breasts heaved in the bodice of her gown. "I am sorry my lord."
Edward Seymour smirked. "I will deal with you later, girl."