The Raven's Heart by Jesse Blackadder

Author:Jesse Blackadder [Blackadder, Jesse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781612940281
Publisher: Bywater Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Thirty-two

I glue moustaches to their upper lips and make sure their breasts are bound, though nothing will make Beaton flat there so I disguise her bosom with draped frills. By the end they are like a group of gorgeous peacocks, bright of face, slender of leg, smooth of skin, as handsome as the French delegation itself.

The Queen, radiant and big-bellied, is the perfect foil for them, their boyishness highlighting her womanhood and showing it off to perfection.

As everyone is going in disguise to the masque, I will too. I have not dressed as a woman since Angi’s death more than a year and a half ago, but I am bent on my quarry now. Tonight I will approach Bothwell as a noblewoman, masked so that he does not recognize me. The Queen lends me one of her lesser gowns and sends a servant to help me get ready.

The musicians are playing a merry beat, the buzz of voices rises to the rafters and the hall is hot, lapped by the icy air outside. Already there is flirting and laughter; already every person in the room wants to drive away the winter cold. Some of the more pious of the lords look scandalized, but they do not leave, instead using stern faces as their own disguise.

The Queen and King enter the great hall to a blast of trumpets and the applause rises to a roar. The Queen inclines her head, smiles, and takes Darnley by the hand. His eyes are wide with anticipation and he gazes around the room in delight.

I have placed a half-mask across my eyes, which allows me to move in anonymity. But even with my disguise, the sight of the Hume party across the hall brings goose bumps to my flesh. Lord Hume’s glance around the room seems filled with menace.

Just before the masque begins, I find Bothwell. I remember what a woman would do and pause nearby as though I have happened to come to rest. When he catches sight of me and gives a bow, I see from his smile he has no idea who is behind this finery. He turns away to continue his conversation, but when the trumpets blare again for the masque to begin and we all shuffle to clear a space in the center, it happens that we are next to each other as the actors begin the play.

I am acutely aware of the animal scent of him. The heat and unaccustomed tightness of the bodice around my ribs make me sway. He notices and puts out an arm to steady me. When I sag against it, he takes me around the waist, leads me out of the press of bodies to a chair, and finds a cup of wine for me. As I sip it, his eyes are on my breasts, swelling up at the top of my dress. When I catch him gazing, he lifts his eyes to mine with a smile. I thank him without giving myself away and send him back to watch the rest of the masque.

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