Emma's eyes went wide with fear. "Do you think she knows?"
Conor shook his head. "If she knew, she wouldn't knock. She'd have a
guard break down the door."
He thought a moment, then began to tear her gown from her
shoulders. Startled, she slapped at his hand. "What are you doing?"
"You heard Elizabeth. She thinks you're sleeping. Quickly now. Get
out of these clothes and into a nightshift. And let your hair down."
They raced to the sleeping chambers, emerging moments later with
Conor pulling the combs from Emma's hair, while she smoothed
down the skirts of her nightshift.
"What about you, Conor? Where will you hide?"
"Don't worry about me. I'm an old hand at spying. Remember?" He
dragged her close and covered her lips with his.
Then he released her and strode to the balcony. He stood for a
moment, staring down into the darkness, before disappearing over the
railing.
Moments later Emma hurried to open the door and admit the queen.
"It's about time." Elizabeth strode into the sitting chamber, followed
by her maid and several of the ladies-in- waiting. She turned to study
the young woman. "Your skin seems flushed, Emma. Are you
coming down with a fever?"
Emma pressed .her hands to her cheeks. "I... believe so, Majesty."
"Your eyes seem a bit bright as well. I'll send my physician later with
a potion."
"Aye, Majesty. As you wish."
The queen settled herself on a chaise and waited while the others sat
or knelt around her. ' 'I have come with some exciting news, Emma
Vaughn. I have decided that your service to your queen is sufficient
that you will join my other ladies-in-waiting."
Emma kissed the hand that was extended to her. "I am most humbly
grateful, Majesty. How can I ever thank you?"
"I shall find a way, I am sure." Elizabeth smiled. ' 'There will be many
services you can perform in the days and weeks to come when we
leave here."
"Leave here?" Emma looked up in surprise. "I don't understand."
"In a matter of days we will leave Greenwich Palace." The queen
looked as delighted as a child with a gift. "And now I must take my
leave of you. There is much to be done."
As if in a fog Emma watched the door close behind the queen and the
others. Then she walked to the balcony, half expecting Conor to
reappear. But all she saw was the darkness below. And above her, a
midnight sky laced with stars.
She pressed her hands to her heated cheeks. Her poor head was
spinning with all that was happening. In a daze she made her way to
her bed, wondering how in the world she would be able to sleep. In
the space of an hour, so much had changed. She had gained the
queen's confidence. And Conor's. Though it pained her to mislead
him, the fact that he believed she was a spy for Ireland would
certainly make it easier for her to do Celestine's bidding.
But by far the most distressing piece of news was that, for some
unknown reason, they would leave Greenwich Palace. If that should
happen, any hope she had nurtured of saving her father and little
Sarah would be lost forever.
Chapter Thirteen
"It is called a progress, my lady." Nola explained the queen's plans as
she helped Emma with her morning toilette. By now, everyone in the
palace knew that they would soon be leaving Greenwich and going
into the countryside. "It is necessary for Her Majesty to move from
one palace to another."
"But why?" Emma couldn't imagine wanting to leave a palace as
elegant as this.
"It serves several purposes, my lady. The most important reason is for
the queen to see her subjects, and to be seen by them." Nola led her to
the dressing table, and Emma sat while the servant arranged her hair.
"But there is another reason. With all the people and animals under
one roof, even a home as grand as Greenwich takes on..." The servant
wrinkled her nose, "...the odor of a barnyard."
"How far will we travel?" Emma's despair was growing by the
minute.
"The rumor is that we will head to the midlands." Nola added, a pretty
comb to Emma's hair, and handed her a looking glass.
"So far away." Emma looked at her reflection without even seeing.
All she could see was a future without her father and little sister, who
would be completely lost without her help.
"Not so far, my lady." Nola appeared happier than Emma had seen
her since her arrival. "I have family in the midlands. Perhaps I'll have
a chance to slip away for a visit." She glanced down. "What is wrong,
my lady? You seem unhappy this morrow."
"Nothing." Emma shrugged. "I just wish I weren't going so far from
my family."
"We'll be back again within the year, my lady."
A year. Emma put a hand to her mouth to stifle the little cry that
sprang to her lips.
"Hurry, my lady. The queen dislikes being kept wait- ing."
As she made her way to the great hall, Emma felt as if she were
carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. How could she
remain here, dancing to the queen's tune, while her family was in
grave peril? And yet, how could she leave and risk causing them even
greater peril?
Elizabeth looked up as she entered. "Ah, here you are, Emma. Come.
Sit at my table. It looks as though your sleep was as restless as mine.
There is nothing like a grand adventure to stir the soul."
"Aye, Majesty." Emma's shoulder brushed Conor's as she took her
seat, and she felt the first hint of comfort since she'd awakened. His
smile added another layer of warmth to her soul. But still her heart
was heavy.
Across the table, Dunstan seemed in fine humor. "Your servants do
an admirable job of keeping your many guests in food and clothing,
Majesty. But I had begun to note that the scullery, the refectory, even
the gardens were taking on a rather distinct odor."
"Aye. I'm grateful for your suggestion, Lord Dunstan. A progress to
more friendly environs will greatly lift my spirits. My messengers
have already reported back that thegentry are eager to welcome their
sovereign at every county and village through which we shall pass.
We will partake of feasting and celebrations all along the way."
Dunstan turned to the Earl of Blystone. "I'm told you have a lovely
home in Warwick."
"It's a pretty enough place, though I rarely go there since the death of
my wife."
' 'Perhaps you should open your doors to your queen and her
company."
Blystone's smile of pleasure was quick and sincere. He turned to the
queen. "I bid you to allow me to entertain Your Majesty at my home.
If you agree, I will send riders ahead this very day to prepare."
Elizabeth seized upon the invitation, since so many in the realm
shrank from the prospect of such an undertaking. "I would be
delighted, my friend. You realize you are inviting a great deal of work
upon your staff."
The earl waved a hand, ignoring the sheer numbers of people,
baggage, clothing, animals tha
t would have to be accommodated.
"My housekeeper and servants will consider it an honor, Majesty. As
will I."
"Then it shall be done." Elizabeth's smile was positively radiant. Just
the thought of moving lifted her out of the boredom which had begun
to set in. "Oh, the parties. The balls. The grand entertainment."
Out of the corner of his eye Conor could see Emma's consternation,
and understood. The thought of leaving her family at the mercy of
Celestine was weighing heavily upon her heart. While the others
laughed and chatted, he lowered his voice, for her ears alone.
"Doir't despair, Emma. We'll find a way."
"But there is so little time now."
He yearned to draw her close and offer her the comfort f his arms. But
all he could do was whisper, "We need but a single word from
Edward, and we will move with all speed. Take heart, Emma. And
keep a good thought."
She looked up, about to say more, when she saw the queen glancing
her way. Thinking quickly she said aloud, "Aye, my lord. This is all
new to me. But, as our queen said, it will be quite an adventure."
"It pleases me, Emma," The queen's voice had the others turning to
look at her, "to see how quickly you have learned our ways."
"Thank you, Majesty." A liar. A spy. A villain with no heart. That
was what she had become. And all because of Celestine. The thought
of it shamed her. ' 'I am most eager to please you."
"You do please me, my dear child." Elizabeth got to her feet and the
others followed suit. "Now I must meet with the household staff, to
see to the arrangements for our progress.",
Emma breathed a sigh of relief, hoping to find some time to herself.
But those hopes were dashed when the queen said, "I will expect all
of my ladies-in-waiting to attend me. There is much we must
discuss."
Emma had no choice but to follow the queen to her chambers.
When they were gone, Conor excused himself from the company of
gentlemen and made his way to the stables. He had need of a long,
silent ride. Possibly all the way to Clermont House.
"Emma."
At the sound of a deep, masculine voice whispering her name, Emma
sighed in her sleep and burrowed deeper into the bed linens. She had
spent the entire day and evening in the company of the queen and her
ladies, and had even been forced to take her meals with them, while
they had been fitted for suitable wardrobes for their journey.When
Emma had finally been allowed to retire to her own chambers, she
had been disappointed to learn that the gentlemen had been
dispatched by carriages to a nearby village, for a night of cards, and
ale, and presumably wenching. But even though the rogue, Conor
O'Neil, had taken himself off for his own pleasures, he was now
intruding upon her dreams.
"Emma. You must awaken. There's no time to waste."
She muttered something in her sleep and attempted to shrug off the
hand at her shoulder.
Hand? She sat bolt upright, peering through the darkness at the
shadow beside her bed.
"Conor? Is that you?"
"Aye. Hurry. You must dress for riding."
"It's the middle of the night."
"That's true. But Edward informed me that his mistress, Lady
Vaughn, would be out of Clermont House for the rest of the night."
"All night? Conor, where would she possibly go for an entire night?"
He shrugged and handed her a pair of dark breeches and tunic. "I
know not. But put these on and let's be off."
"What are these?" She stared at them with a doubtful expression.
"Proper men's riding clothes. It wouldn't do for one of the queen's
ladies-in-waiting to be out at such an hour. And the queen would have
both our heads if she discovered me out riding with anyone but a
proper gentleman."
Emma studied the clothes. "I'll wear them. But first," she
commanded, "turn around."
At her imperious tone, he grinned and did as she bade. Keeping an
eye on his broad shoulders she hurriedly stripped away her nightshift
and dressed in the strange clothes.
"Where did you get these?" She cast a quick look at herself, then bent
to retrieve her boots.
"I persuaded Meade to loan me his, since mine were far too big for
you."
"How very generous you are with the stable lad's clothes."
"I paid him a gold sovereign for the use of them. And on the morrow
he'll get them back." He grinned at the sight of her. "Now, perhaps
you'd best hide those glorious tresses beneath this hat." He removed
his own hat and placed it on her head.
When she started toward the door he whispered furiously, "Not that
way, Emma. I've barred the door so your maid can't enter your
chambers and discover your empty bed."
"Then how...?"
He caught her hand and led her toward the balcony, where a rope
dangled from the railing to the ground far below.
"This is how you got up here?"
"Aye, my lady. And how we must both get down."
When she hesitated he added, "Unless you'd prefer to let this
opportunity slip by."
She squared her shoulders. "I'm not afraid."
"Good." With the agility of a panther Conor pulled himself over the
railing, holding firmly to the rope. When he was safely on the ground,
he lifted his arms.
"Come on."
Following his lead, she pulled herself over the railing and slid down
the rope. Her heart was thundering, but to her credit she made it down
safely until she felt Conor's arms wrap around her. When he released
her, she managed to dash toward the waiting horses. Within minutes
they were galloping across the hills, on the road leading to Clermont
House.She turned to him as the dark mists swirled around them. "It
strikes me that you are quite adept at treachery, Conor O'Neil."
He merely smiled. "It has held me in good stead from time to time."
He turned, admiring her silhouette against the night sky. Despite the
rough clothing, there was no mistaking the distinctly feminine curves.
' 'For a gently bred colleen from Dublin, I might say the same for you.
Why is it that you have no fear of what we're about to do?"
"Make no mistake, Conor. I'm desperately afraid. But my fear for my
father and sister are far greater than my fear for my own safety." She
looked up and caught her first glimpse of Clermont House in the
distance. Her heartbeat quickened. "What is our plan? Surely I cannot
pretend to visit, dressed like this."
Conor shook his head. "Nay. It was a good plan, but now, with the
queen's untimely meddling, everything must be changed. We'll
secure the horses some distance from the house, and then climb the
arbor together."
He reined in his mount and Emma did the same. "I'll keep watch in
the hallway while you determine the condition of your father and
sister."
"The condition?" She felt her breath hitch in her throat.
"Aye, my lady." He slid from the saddle and tied the reins to a tree.
"The fact that you haven't been permitted to see them makes me think
> Celestine's potions are keeping them drugged. If that is so, they may
be too weak to leave their beds."
"Oh, Conor." She put a hand to her mouth to stifle her cry.
He reached up and helped her from her horse. "Don't tell me you
haven't feared the worst."
"Aye. But to hear it spoken aloud breaks my heart."
"Shhh." He touched a finger to her mouth. Feeling the jolt he lowered
his head and kissed her. Just one hard, quick kiss. Then he held her a
little away. "Are you able to do this?"
She swallowed, squared her shoulders, then nodded. "I'll do whatever
it takes, Conor."
He gave her a smile. "Good. Now follow my lead."
It occurred to Emma that he showed absolutely no hesitation as he
raced across the lawns and paused beside the arbor. After one quick
test of its strength, he began to climb. When he reached the upper
story he beckoned her to follow.
When she was halfway up the arbor he heard her little hiss of pain as
she closed her hand over a spike of rose thorns. Reaching down, he
grasped her wrists. She was surprised by the strength in his arms.
Then she quickly reminded herself that Conor O'Neil was not what he
pretended to be. He played the part of a man who seemed to do
nothing more strenuous than lift a goblet with the queen. And he
played the part well. But he was, in truth, a spy, with all the strength
of a seasoned warrior.
He lifted her the final few inches until she was standing beside him on
the upper balcony. "Are you all right, Emma?'
She nodded, absently wiping blood down the leg of her borrowed
breeches. "As a lass I was always climbing trees and racing across the
meadows after the horses. But I'm amazed at how much simpler it is
to do these things in men's clothing."
"Aye." He winked, causing her heart to do a series of quick tumbles.
"That was the easy part. The hard part is now." He framed her face
and whispered fiercely, "No matter what you see, Emma, you musn't
cry out. Do you understand?'
She wasn't certain what he meant, but she nodded.
"This nighttime visit is for one reason only. To determine the