Bella at Midnight by Diane Stanley

Author:Diane Stanley
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins

Matilda

Sometimes I think God is having sport with me—like a naughty child who pulls the cat’s tail. Oh, I know it is sinful to say such things, and I shall have to confess it to the priest. But it felt good to say it all the same.

Now I ask you—do I deserve this? Have I not suffered enough already, between widowhood and penury? Must we add a deranged daughter and a mad husband into the bargain? And then—and then—such a lovely surprise! “I have a daughter,” he says. “You shall raise her,” he says. “She has lived among peasants all her life,” he says!

“Why not leave her where she is?” I suggest.

And what do you think he says to that? “I wish to know if she looks like Catherine.” He says this to me! His wife! He might at least try to pretend he esteems me. He might hold off mentioning Catherine one day in the week, if only for variety! Not that I expected roses, or poetry—I am a sensible woman. I only want a little respect.

I believe sometimes I will lose my mind!

But I am ranting—and I know better, too, for it will change nothing and only cause my head to ache. I must think instead of my one consolation, my only source of pleasure and entertainment since I came to this unhappy house—my visits from Marianne.

Now that in itself is passing strange, for Marianne was never my favorite, being a willful child who was always complaining and insistent upon having her way. Never was she as sweet as Alice, or as considerate, or kind. But Alice is lost to me now, and I have only Marianne, who at least brings me amusing stories and gossip from court and opens a window into a happier world.

“Oh, Mother,” she says, “wait till I tell you!”—and already I begin to smile. “Lady Ellen has been disgraced and sent away from court! The queen has had another tooth pulled, and you could hear her screams all the way out in the garden! The king fell asleep in chapel, and began to snore—and the priest knew not what to do, and so he feigned a fit of coughing, so as to wake the king politely—and when His Majesty came to himself with a snort, he glowered at the priest and said, ‘Father, do you want a lozenge?’”

Marianne always tells good stories. Naturally Edward leaves the room as soon as she appears. He does not wish to be amused—it is so much more pleasant to mope about and be glum!

Usually her stories are of trifling matters, but not always. One day she had a most remarkable tale to tell. It disrupted our household, as you shall hear, and much else besides.

We were in the great hall, Edward being up in the solar and wishing not to be disturbed there. Alice was sitting upon a stool in a far corner, in the dark, studying her fingernails. Isabel was tending to the fire, one of those common domestic tasks she automatically took upon herself when the housemaid was not nearby.

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