reason was not the total truth, but she was just beginning to know how far from full truth it was.
She smiled at Sir Edward because he was as trapped as she. "I am still the Meriel that you took to your service in the scullery and later raised to the upper floor and taught well." She smiled and winked impudently. "But as a countess, I may say exactly what I think to a spymaster, to an admiral and even, perhaps, to a king."
"Just so, your ladyship," Sir Edward said, bowing where he sat, "but that is not so much changed from before. I was speaking of a certain look. The way you hold yourself as if born to your station. I say nothing of the glow in your eyes that I've not seen afore."
Meriel looked away. Was her affection for Lord Giles so apparent? Would others see this glow and her masquerade be over? All Whitehall knew that Lady Felice betrayed Lord Giles at every turning. If Meriel could not match the countess's indifference, it would surely expose her to ...
"Attend me, for we have little time and must not be seen leaving this office together," Sir Edward said, unrolling dispatches. "This is the cipher used by the Dutch fleet with their London agents. Very simple, yet very clever. It is especially good for our purposes because you will not have to duplicate Lady Felice's unique handwriting with the new wooden pen that holds its own ink."
Meriel picked up a sheaf of papers. "But this looks like music, the same that Lady Judith used at her virginal."
"Aye, but the notes descending the staff represent letters in the alphabet, not all in strict order to add a complication. Only K and Q are omitted because they can be substituted with C. You must learn to read this cipher quickly and to write it, since Lady Felice will have had much experience."
Meriel bent over the manuscript and noticed that the vowels were placed on the lines and the letters w, x, y, z were extended below the staff. She could learn this cipher. All the hours spent with maritime codes and turning music pages for Lady Judith had not been wasted. Indeed, Meriel thought in some amazement, it seemed that everything she had learned in her life had been to school her for this moment. Was God's will at work here? Amusement rose inside her, so much that it reached her mouth.
"What amuses you, Meriel?" a puzzled Sir Edward asked.
"Perhaps the greatest jest of all, sir. I have to believe that God knows what he is doing."
Meriel returned to her apartments to find that Agnes had arrived to act as the Countess of Warborough's personal maid.
The maid dipped a curtsy. "It does please me to serve you again, your ladyship."
Meriel nodded. "Due consideration to my rank, m'girl." Hey, well, now Chiffinch has a spy in my apartments and will not need to creep behind walls and disturb my sleep!
Although her other maids showed sour mouths to Meriel, she ignored them and ordered a bowl of sweet Portuguese wine for dipping bread. An invitation to dine with the king at the Banqueting House lay on her chess table, the sealing wax still warm. She had scarce time to change into a very pretty white taffeta gown with a pearl stomacher, its hem looped high to reveal a scarlet petticoat and a generous glimpse of ankle.
"Ah, my lady," Agnes said, tying her scarlet sleeve ribbons, "white does set off your black hair and high color most well indeed."
Meriel frowned, not satisfied, as ladies never were. "My hair does not shine as it should."
Two other maids rubbed it again vigorously with silk cloths and arranged the curls with thick sugar water. They would not move out of their coif in a North Sea gale.
Followed by Agnes carrying her train, Meriel left Whitehall by the Holbein Gate and walked down King Street to the Banqueting House, marveling at the beautiful building designed by Inigo Jones. In Sir Edward's library, she had studied this architect's book of draft plans for several of his noble structures, never dreaming that she would one day dine with a king in the most famous
She smiled at Sir Edward because he was as trapped as she. "I am still the Meriel that you took to your service in the scullery and later raised to the upper floor and taught well." She smiled and winked impudently. "But as a countess, I may say exactly what I think to a spymaster, to an admiral and even, perhaps, to a king."
"Just so, your ladyship," Sir Edward said, bowing where he sat, "but that is not so much changed from before. I was speaking of a certain look. The way you hold yourself as if born to your station. I say nothing of the glow in your eyes that I've not seen afore."
Meriel looked away. Was her affection for Lord Giles so apparent? Would others see this glow and her masquerade be over? All Whitehall knew that Lady Felice betrayed Lord Giles at every turning. If Meriel could not match the countess's indifference, it would surely expose her to ...
"Attend me, for we have little time and must not be seen leaving this office together," Sir Edward said, unrolling dispatches. "This is the cipher used by the Dutch fleet with their London agents. Very simple, yet very clever. It is especially good for our purposes because you will not have to duplicate Lady Felice's unique handwriting with the new wooden pen that holds its own ink."
Meriel picked up a sheaf of papers. "But this looks like music, the same that Lady Judith used at her virginal."
"Aye, but the notes descending the staff represent letters in the alphabet, not all in strict order to add a complication. Only K and Q are omitted because they can be substituted with C. You must learn to read this cipher quickly and to write it, since Lady Felice will have had much experience."
Meriel bent over the manuscript and noticed that the vowels were placed on the lines and the letters w, x, y, z were extended below the staff. She could learn this cipher. All the hours spent with maritime codes and turning music pages for Lady Judith had not been wasted. Indeed, Meriel thought in some amazement, it seemed that everything she had learned in her life had been to school her for this moment. Was God's will at work here? Amusement rose inside her, so much that it reached her mouth.
"What amuses you, Meriel?" a puzzled Sir Edward asked.
"Perhaps the greatest jest of all, sir. I have to believe that God knows what he is doing."
Meriel returned to her apartments to find that Agnes had arrived to act as the Countess of Warborough's personal maid.
The maid dipped a curtsy. "It does please me to serve you again, your ladyship."
Meriel nodded. "Due consideration to my rank, m'girl." Hey, well, now Chiffinch has a spy in my apartments and will not need to creep behind walls and disturb my sleep!
Although her other maids showed sour mouths to Meriel, she ignored them and ordered a bowl of sweet Portuguese wine for dipping bread. An invitation to dine with the king at the Banqueting House lay on her chess table, the sealing wax still warm. She had scarce time to change into a very pretty white taffeta gown with a pearl stomacher, its hem looped high to reveal a scarlet petticoat and a generous glimpse of ankle.
"Ah, my lady," Agnes said, tying her scarlet sleeve ribbons, "white does set off your black hair and high color most well indeed."
Meriel frowned, not satisfied, as ladies never were. "My hair does not shine as it should."
Two other maids rubbed it again vigorously with silk cloths and arranged the curls with thick sugar water. They would not move out of their coif in a North Sea gale.
Followed by Agnes carrying her train, Meriel left Whitehall by the Holbein Gate and walked down King Street to the Banqueting House, marveling at the beautiful building designed by Inigo Jones. In Sir Edward's library, she had studied this architect's book of draft plans for several of his noble structures, never dreaming that she would one day dine with a king in the most famous
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