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CHAPTER FIVE

C assia and Rolfe left the Withdrawing Chamber some time later, having come to an accord with the king on the terms of what Cassia could only call her “compulsory detainment.”

It had all been very politely discussed over a luncheon of cockle soup and salted oyster patties, a treat King Charles had clearly hoped would offset Cassia’s displeasure.

The meal had indeed been splendid, the conversation enlivening, but even the sweet cream pudding that had been served for dessert had failed to lessen the sour taste Cassia had at being defeated in her efforts to see Lord Ravenscroft removed from his duty.

She should be pleased she had at least succeeded in remaining in the city, but the idea that she should have a caretaker as the king had termed it, and would now suffer that man’s smug grin each and every day was almost too much to bear.

Cassia thought back to earlier that day when she had first turned in her father’s study to find Lord Ravenscroft standing in the doorway behind her.

She should have been uneasy, alarmed at finding a strange man suddenly standing inside her home.

She sometimes forgot that she resided alone now, and in truth, she had very little in the way of protection.

But Lord Ravenscroft hadn’t frightened her.

In fact, Lord Ravenscroft was quite unlike most men Cassia had ever met before.

He dressed differently, wore his hair differently, he even acted differently than other men at court did.

Cassia was accustomed to men who fell over themselves in their efforts to stand out, who dressed more extravagantly, spoke filled with their self-importance as a means to make a name for themselves.

Lord Ravenscroft stood out without any of these efforts.

He was tall, solidly built, and somehow Cassia could not envision him wearing the flounced shirtsleeves and curling lovelocks currently en mode , pinching snuff from a decorated enamel box like the other men at court did.

Instead, the image he presented was one of quiet, unassuming strength. And he was certainly the most stubborn man Cassia had ever encountered, and at least she had succeeded in preventing his removing her to the country. For now, she could get on with the task of proving her innocence.

Cassia had been disappointed to learn she would not be permitted to return to her duties as Maid of Honour to Queen Catherine.

While she understood His Majesty's decision—Lord Ravenscroft couldn't very well follow her into Her Majesty's bedchamber while Cassia attended to her toilette—Cassia had hoped she would be able to use her place at the palace to begin making queries into her father’s dealings. She was convinced whoever had been in his study that night was somehow connected to his work at Westminster. Fortunately, as a means of appeasement for her agreeing to Lord Ravenscroft’s protection, the king had given Cassia permission to return to Whitehall to visit and to attend whatever court function she chose, so long as her appearances were kept discreet and not made very often.

So, it seemed, she was not to be made a complete prisoner in her own home after all—but only by the barest of margins.

The moment Cassia emerged from the king's Withdrawing Chamber, the dutiful Winifred appeared at her side. The uniformed guards who stood outside had no sooner closed the doors behind them than were they immediately set upon by a small group of ladies taking air in the Privy Garden.

It was almost as if they’d been watching for them.

The small assembly—a colorfully clad group whom Cassia often referred to as “The Malicious Ambitious” were ladies who spent their every waking moment seeking ways to rise above the other ladies at court.

They were commanded by no less than the king's most prominent and long-standing mistress herself—Barbara Palmer, the Countess of Castlemaine.

“Ah, Lady Cassia, how very unexpected it is to see you at the palace today.”

Lady Castlemaine came forward with all the regal bearing and arrogance to which she presumed she was entitled.

“I really must speak to the palace porter about being more careful in his selection of who to allow inside.

I wouldn't have thought that one of your...,” she paused, her chin rising a degree, “... obvious social dilemma would be permitted within the walls of the palace these days.”

Lady Castlemaine’s gown was made of a fine sea green watered silk.

Jewels dripped from her ears and from around her slim throat.

Her auburn hair was crimped in the latest style and she carried herself quite as if she considered herself the uncrowned Queen of England.

Indeed, one would discover that most everyone at court thought of her thus for she used her position in the king’s bed well to wield her power.

Everyone, that was, except Cassia.

From the moment King Charles's new Portuguese wife, Catherine of Braganza, had set foot on English shores nearly two years before, Cassia had stood fast in her loyalty to her, defending her against every stab and social humiliation Lady Castlemaine and her entourage gleefully sought to deliver. They’d ridiculed Catherine’s Portuguese fashions, snickered behind their fans at her attempts to speak English, and did everything they could to put the new queen in situations that made her look wanting.

Cassia often thought it fortunate that Queen Catherine's knowledge of the English language was so limited. It enabled her to shield the queen from the terrible and scandalous gossip surrounding the bedchamber antics of her husband and the woman who had such a mysterious hold on him.

No two women could have been more unalike.

Where Barbara Palmer was exotic and wildly passionate by nature, Queen Catherine was serene and calm, a convent-bred innocent sent over from the Continent to a foreign land filled with vice and debauchery.

But from the moment she had first seen Charles, Queen Catherine had adored her husband quite as a lovesick puppy would a child.

In turn, Charles was drawn to Catherine's innate kindness and contentment, so very different from the demanding nature of his most famous paramour. It was indeed a paradox.

Cassia herself did not try to understand this arrangement, with Charles running to one woman for physical satisfaction and back to the other for mental restoration; sometimes it was almost as if he believed Catherine too good, too pure for him.

But, having been herself both witness and victim to the damage of scandal and the gossip of society through her years with her mother, Cassia now refused to allow the innocent Catherine the same humiliation, preferring to take it on herself in her place.

And for that, it seemed, Cassia would now bear the sting of Lady Castlemaine's venom this day.

“I mean, pray, what are you actually doing here, Lady Cassia?”

The question was as blunt as was its speaker, and was worded with just the right amount of contempt to draw attention.

Anyone standing within earshot of the two ladies in that garden seemed to immediately draw nearer, anxious to witness the brewing battle.

Not a sound came in that peaceful garden except for the faint trickling of water through a marble fountain amid the trimmed garden hedges and the distant trill of a woodlark hidden in the treetops.

Everyone waited to see how Cassia would respond to Lady Castlemaine's barb.

But Cassia did not rise to the bait. When the silence became nearly overwhelming, Rolfe started to step forward, seeking to escort Cassia away from the confrontation and spare her any further humiliation.

But Cassia saw his intent, and put out a hand to stop him.

She smiled icily at the other woman. “And good day to you, Lady Castlemaine. I would say, too, that it is rather unexpected to see you out taking a leisurely stroll in the Privy Garden just now. Pray should you not be occupied in performing your duty in attending to the needs of Her Majesty at this hour?”

Barbara pouted mockingly. “I’m afraid Her Majesty is feeling poorly today and has taken to her bed,” she said, toying with a ringlet just above her right ear. She looked far too pleased with herself. “She said she wished to be left alone. As a dutiful servant, I was most happy to oblige her.”

Cassia regarded Lady Castlemaine coolly.

“I'm certain you were, your devotion to your position being what it is.” She curved a chilling smile. “But as I understand it, the queen could very well be carrying the king’s child, God willing our future king of England. His Majesty told me of it only a short time ago during our private supper in the Withdrawing Chamber. He was most excited, fair gushing I would say, saying he hoped he would finally be blessed with his longed-for legitimate heir.”

Lady Castlemaine's eyes narrowed. It was no secret that she had already borne the king two bastard children with, rumor had it, a third on the way. Yet no matter how much she tried, they would never be declared legitimate. Before she could even begin to frame a response, Cassia went on.

“In fact, I believe His Majesty is now on his way to convey the good news to Frances Stuart in her apartments. What a pity you shall miss him, but I'm certain he said he would be occupied with her for some time and didn't wish to be disturbed.”

Lady Castlemaine's eyes went wide at this news. To think that the king had gone off to visit his newest conquest—and Lady Castlemaine’s most threatening competition yet. The chink began to show in her armor.

“Well, I?—”

Cassia went on. “I am sorry to say that I cannot stay and chat.

I, too, must go for I wish to stop by and visit Her Majesty in order to extend my congratulations before I leave.

Do consider perhaps finding yourself an ombrello , Lady Castlemaine.

The sun seems to be bringing a most unbecoming redness to your complexion.

And we mustn't forget to try and stave off those tiny lines that seem to creep upon a lady with age.

We wouldn't want the king seeking younger, more verdant pastures, would we? Good day to you.” She turned.

“Lord Ravenscroft, Winifred, pray shall we continue?”

By the time Cassia had finished this parting sally, she had skillfully removed herself from within earshot of Lady Castlemaine, preventing the other woman from giving any response without the appearance of pursuing her, a thing Barbara Palmer would never deign to do.

Lady Castlemaine was the pursued; she was never the pursuer.

Even so, Rolfe doubted the lady could have spoken above two words had she wanted to.

Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her jaw was angrily set, and rage blazed in her famous violet-blue eyes.

As soon as they were a safe distance away, Rolfe came up beside Cassia. “Well done, Lady Cassia. I daresay Lady Castlemaine will think twice before attempting to rout you a second time. I wouldn't think it is too often she is shown the sharp side of another's tongue.”

Cassia frowned and continued on her way. “Please do not commend me for my behavior, Lord Ravenscroft. It is not something of which I am proud, but comes about only out of necessity to survive within the walls of this place.”

As Cassia worked her way deeper into the rookery of Whitehall, Rolfe could see that she truly was unsettled from the confrontation.

This left him further confused. Most women he knew of at court would have taken great pleasure in setting down someone as infamous as Lady Castlemaine.

Oddly, though, Cassia seemed genuinely displeased by the exchange.

Noting her reaction and having heard the vitriol of Lady Castlemaine's words to her, Rolfe began to suspect that he was not the only one to think living at the glittering royal court was not as enviable as many would believe.

Cassia stopped before the guarded doors that led to Queen Catherine's private apartments along the riverside of the palace.

She turned. “Lord Ravenscroft, I know it is your duty to remain by my side at all times, but I must ask that you refrain from attempting to follow me in to visit the queen. She is yet quite wary of strangers in this country—as you can see from Lady Castlemaine, rightfully so—and being that she is indisposed and possibly with child, I should think she would appreciate her privacy just now.”

Rolfe could not argue against her reasoning. “I will take you on your word that you will not attempt to leave through any door other than this one. I will remain here waiting until you are finished visiting the queen.”

Cassia inclined her head. “Thank you, Lord Ravenscroft. I give you my word.”