Elizabeth, the Witch's Daughter by Lynda M. Andrews

Author:Lynda M. Andrews
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781911591344
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Ltd
Published: 2017-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Northumberland kept Edward’s death a closely guarded secret whilst putting into action his plans. Letters were dispatched to both the Princesses informing them that their brother was dying and requesting them to come with all haste. Both girls made immediate preparations to set out.

The day showed promise of being unbearably hot and sultry. Already at barely nine o’clock Elizabeth felt weary and her head ached.

“Is all ready?” she called impatiently to Kat.

“Yes,” came back the decidedly sharp reply as Kat distractedly tried to remember if everything necessary had been packed.

“Come then,” Elizabeth called as she walked slowly down the stairs. It was cool in the hall for the thick stone walls kept out the glare. Kat joined her and they both emerged into the sunlight.

The courtyard was a hive of activity. Her ladies were already mounted and their stiff hoods were beginning to wilt with the heat. Her Men-At-Arms in their bright uniforms stood leaning on their halberds but quickly stood to attention upon catching sight of her. The grooms were sweating as they pushed the unwilling beasts, harnessed to her baggage wagon, into line.

Elizabeth felt irritable. She was impatient to start for she was afraid that she would not reach Edward in time. It was so hot! She could feel the perspiration on her forehead and damp patches beneath her arms. She stepped forward and then stopped for it was just as though she were gazing at a scene from a dream, for the bright figures appeared to float before her eyes. The sun blinded her and all the noise seemed to fade away. The air became still. She had experienced this eerie stillness once before.

“Mother?” she whispered to herself. She shivered as she felt again the warning presence.

“This time ’twill not be in vain,” she thought, realising that she had not stopped to think more carefully about Northumberland’ s summons.

She became aware that Kat was speaking to her and she turned mechanically towards her.

Kat was taken aback by the pallor of her mistress’s face.

“We are ready to leave,” she said.

“We are not going!” Elizabeth told her flatly. “Disperse the servants, I am too ill to travel.” She turned and went back into the cool, semi-darkness of the house.

Her head ached abominably, she told Kat as she lay in bed listening to the sounds of the summer day which came in through the open window. She could not endure the journey.

Kat looked at her quizzically. She had seemed to be quite well earlier but one could never be certain with Elizabeth these days.

Kat sighed. “The older she becomes the less I seem to know her,” she thought sadly.

Elizabeth lay back, looking around the sunlit room and wondering feverishly what Mary was doing. Foolish Mary, had she also set out for London? Elizabeth felt certain now that the summons from Northumberland was a trap. Would Mary fall into it as she had so nearly done?

Mary had but fortunately was warned on the road and had fled to Kenninghall in Norfolk, accompanied by only half a dozen servants.

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