By Royal Command by Mary Hooper

ladies – especially if they’re going to the palace,’ she said. ‘You’ll only slip into the background if you’re dressed as fine and fashionable as everyone else. If you’re dressed like a drab, then you’ll stand out and people will wonder who you are and how you come to be there.’
    I sighed, thinking that possibly she was right.
    ‘We must try and think of something else for you to wear.’ Her eyes suddenly sparkled. ‘But now tell me of the frost fair, for I was monstrous sorry to have missed it.’
    ‘Indeed! I felt sure I’d see you there.’
    ‘I had no time. I’ve been working every day these five days past, making kissing boughs and selling them at market.’
    ‘Have you done well?’
    ‘I have. I’ve sold so many that we are to have a roast goose for Christmas Day – and I’ve already picked him out!’
    ‘Kissing boughs . . .’ I mused. ‘Perhaps we should have one such in the magician’s house, for the Walsinghams are coming and Dr Dee wants everything to look very fine.’
    ‘The Walsinghams!’ she said, impressed. She smiled. ‘But did you know that if a man catches you under the mistletoe bough, then he can claim a kiss?’
    I nodded, for this was an old tradition.
    ‘Then perhaps there will be a young male Walsingham who is comely and catches your eye . . .’
    I shook my head, smiling. ‘Their children are all too young. Besides, any young sir would not look at me!’
    ‘The girls’ tutor, then?’
    ‘Never!’
    ‘Dr Dee himself?’
    I screamed.
    ‘Then, perhaps . . . Tomas, the queen’s fool?’
    I laughed. ‘Perhaps! But what of you? Which young man will you be lingering under the mistletoe for?’
    ‘I think . . . the ‘prentice boy at the butcher’s,’ she said. ‘For he has a fine head of red hair and always winks at me when I go in the shop.’
    I laughed. ‘A butcher’s ‘prentice?’ I said. ‘Are you sure that you’re not just after his pigs’ trotters?’ And we both giggled immoderately at this.
    Isabelle gave me an amount of mistletoe, saying I’d not be able to get any for myself for, it being only found atop of trees, her little sister had had to climb for it, and she showed me how to make a kissing bough by twisting it around and about with strands of vine and making it into a globe shape, then balancing a candlestick inside. ‘You must hang it in the hallway, and for every kiss given, you must take off a berry,’ she informed me.
    I nodded. ‘And after Twelfth Night, we will count our berries and see who has the most!’
    We bade each other goodbye, and Beth, Merryl and I set off across the common for home (with me pondering all the way about what I should wear to the palace) and reached the river path just as dusk was falling. It was only a short walk back to Mortlake but was made harder by the unevenness of the ground and the cart I had to push, so I was happy to see the magician’s house come into sight around the bend of the river. As it did so, Beth clapped her hands delightedly, saying, ‘Jack Frost!’
    ‘Really?’ I asked. ‘Where?’
    ‘Standing behind that tree,’ Merryl pointed to a willow on the bank. ‘Ready to come around the house and paint our windows white.’
    And indeed it was he and I found a smile coming to my face and my heart giving a skip, for I couldn’t help thinking of all the mistletoe on my cart.
    The girls ran up to him. ‘Will you do a somersault for us?’ Beth asked.
    ‘No, I want you to spin round and round like a top!’ Merryl commanded.
    ‘Stop!’ I said to the girls. ‘Even the queen’s fool is entitled to have some time off.’
    ‘I would speak with you alone,’ he said to me. His voice was low, throaty, and he put his hand to his mouth as he spoke.
    ‘Are you well?’ I asked, concerned.
    ‘No . . . you must excuse me . . . I have an ague.’
    ‘That such as Jack Frost should take chill! Shame!’ I said.
    But he didn’t continue with the jest and, feeling a little perplexed at