accidents. They reflect so badly upon him, since he is responsible for all the arrangements, and besides, I believe he truly loves Her Majesty and would not do anything to put her at risk. Perhaps the Earl is cursed, but I doubt it….
So, who is left? That is, who remains that wouldwish to discredit the Earl of Leicester and, perhaps, Secretary Cecil as well? There is the Swedish Prince, of course. He would certainly be pleased to see the Earl of Leicester discredited, and would not be displeased if the dislike between the Earl and Sir William were to worsen. But how could he have done it? AH his attendants are Swedish. None of them speak much English—and the tailor's apprentice didn't mention that the man who came for the livery had an accent. He would certainly have noticed if the man had been foreign.
It is very perplexing. I must devise a way of finding out more about the Swedish nobles and the Swedish Prince.
Thank the lord, the play is ending. I see that Lady Sarah has a new admirer. She has been batting her eyelashes at him through all the play, and now he has found an excuse to speak with her. Lady Jane is looking put out. She does hate it when Sarah gets more attention than she.
Lady Sarah's flirting gave me a marvellous idea for a plan to investigate the Swedish Prince—though I am not sure if it will work.
After the play we went back to our chamber, but then Lady Sarah decided to go and find some moonlit cobwebs to put on her spots. I spent some time devising my plan and then realized I needed to talk to Sarah, so I went to look for her.
I found her, just as she was coming in, accompanied by Olwen, carrying the cobwebs on a twig.
I walked beside her as I wasn't at all sure how to ask what I wanted to ask, so I began a long way away, ready to work up to the main point. ““You're very good at getting along with gentlemen and talking to them and so on,” I said.
Lady Sarah looked at me rather suspiciously. “Hm,” she said noncommittally.
“Well, it's just that I never know what to talk about,” I told her, which is true in a way. “So what do
you
say when they talk to you?”
“My goodness,” said Sarah, a little smugly. “Why are you suddenly interested in gentlemen, Grace? This is new.”
“Well, urn … I just wondered …,” I mumbled, nearly overcome with sheer embarrassment.
Sarah smoothed her satin gown. “It wouldn't have anything to do with dear John Hull, would it?” she enquired.
“Oh, no, of course not. Not at all,” I said, andwondered why my face was feeling so hot—I wasn't anywhere near a brazier.
Sarah smirked, as if she didn't believe me. How annoying.
“Just … er … gentlemen,” I pressed on, “You know, like the … er … like the Swedish gentlemen.”
She laughed and patted my arm. “Don't fret, Grace,” she said. “It's pleasing to see that you're turning into a proper Maid of Honour at last. After all, we are all here to find a rich nobleman to marry and adore us, aren't we?”
“Um …,” I said, speechless for once.
“But I don't think John is really suitable,” Sarah continued. “He doesn't seem to have any family or lineage. But you can practise on him.”
“No … truly, I just want to talk to the Swedish gentlemen, really …,” I persisted.
“Of course,” Sarah said. And then she actually winked at me! “Now, let's see. There's no point in pulling your bodice lower—no breasts. Or letting your hair escape a little—too straggly.”
I scowled at her.
“Hm. The idea, you see, is to let the young gentlemen think it's their idea to talk to you,” she explained.
“And isn't it?” I asked, surprised.
“No, of course not. Lord above, if you left it to the men, there would be no dalliance at all! So you must be as visible and as beautiful as you can be— and then you …” She did something peculiar with her eyelids, sort of looking down and then up and smiling. “Like that,” she said.
“Like what?” I asked, still
So, who is left? That is, who remains that wouldwish to discredit the Earl of Leicester and, perhaps, Secretary Cecil as well? There is the Swedish Prince, of course. He would certainly be pleased to see the Earl of Leicester discredited, and would not be displeased if the dislike between the Earl and Sir William were to worsen. But how could he have done it? AH his attendants are Swedish. None of them speak much English—and the tailor's apprentice didn't mention that the man who came for the livery had an accent. He would certainly have noticed if the man had been foreign.
It is very perplexing. I must devise a way of finding out more about the Swedish nobles and the Swedish Prince.
Thank the lord, the play is ending. I see that Lady Sarah has a new admirer. She has been batting her eyelashes at him through all the play, and now he has found an excuse to speak with her. Lady Jane is looking put out. She does hate it when Sarah gets more attention than she.
Lady Sarah's flirting gave me a marvellous idea for a plan to investigate the Swedish Prince—though I am not sure if it will work.
After the play we went back to our chamber, but then Lady Sarah decided to go and find some moonlit cobwebs to put on her spots. I spent some time devising my plan and then realized I needed to talk to Sarah, so I went to look for her.
I found her, just as she was coming in, accompanied by Olwen, carrying the cobwebs on a twig.
I walked beside her as I wasn't at all sure how to ask what I wanted to ask, so I began a long way away, ready to work up to the main point. ““You're very good at getting along with gentlemen and talking to them and so on,” I said.
Lady Sarah looked at me rather suspiciously. “Hm,” she said noncommittally.
“Well, it's just that I never know what to talk about,” I told her, which is true in a way. “So what do
you
say when they talk to you?”
“My goodness,” said Sarah, a little smugly. “Why are you suddenly interested in gentlemen, Grace? This is new.”
“Well, urn … I just wondered …,” I mumbled, nearly overcome with sheer embarrassment.
Sarah smoothed her satin gown. “It wouldn't have anything to do with dear John Hull, would it?” she enquired.
“Oh, no, of course not. Not at all,” I said, andwondered why my face was feeling so hot—I wasn't anywhere near a brazier.
Sarah smirked, as if she didn't believe me. How annoying.
“Just … er … gentlemen,” I pressed on, “You know, like the … er … like the Swedish gentlemen.”
She laughed and patted my arm. “Don't fret, Grace,” she said. “It's pleasing to see that you're turning into a proper Maid of Honour at last. After all, we are all here to find a rich nobleman to marry and adore us, aren't we?”
“Um …,” I said, speechless for once.
“But I don't think John is really suitable,” Sarah continued. “He doesn't seem to have any family or lineage. But you can practise on him.”
“No … truly, I just want to talk to the Swedish gentlemen, really …,” I persisted.
“Of course,” Sarah said. And then she actually winked at me! “Now, let's see. There's no point in pulling your bodice lower—no breasts. Or letting your hair escape a little—too straggly.”
I scowled at her.
“Hm. The idea, you see, is to let the young gentlemen think it's their idea to talk to you,” she explained.
“And isn't it?” I asked, surprised.
“No, of course not. Lord above, if you left it to the men, there would be no dalliance at all! So you must be as visible and as beautiful as you can be— and then you …” She did something peculiar with her eyelids, sort of looking down and then up and smiling. “Like that,” she said.
“Like what?” I asked, still
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