Chapter 271: It Is True
Theodora smoothed a sweet smile across her face. It was a frightening thing to watch. "Yes, my sweet girl...It is true."
A murmur stirred among the women.
Theodora lifted one hand gently. "The king gave the order. What can I do? I would hate to see you all go. Truly, I would. Many of you have been with us for years, and this palace will be duller without your faces."
That was such a polished lie it deserved applause.
"But after all that happened with the royal wedding," Her Grace continued, "His Majesty wishes to remove all distractions. He is in France now to smooth matters there and restore what was damaged. The court must become orderly again before his return."
"We do not want to be married off," the dark-haired woman said. "We should be returned to our families if His Majesty no longer requires us."
"At least we should be given a choice," Margery added.
One voice could be dismissed as hysteria. Several became a problem. Theodora’s smile disappeared.
"You dare question the king’s will?"
The women recoiled at once. Heads lowered. Hands tightened. Fear swept back into the room.
Livia stepped forward quickly. "I apologise, Your Grace....If you must be angry with anyone, please be angry with me. It is my fault, really. I gathered everyone here. I thought mourning Lady Bella together would bring comfort, and I did not consider that the conversation might turn to matters better left to council."
Theodora’s lips tightened. She moved closer, her skirts whispering over the floor. "You think you are so smart...You gathered them here, and taught them to speak before I entered the room. You wished to build a faction. Be careful, little girl. I crush insolent women as easily as I crush bugs."
Livia smiled. Step one had been accomplished. Theodora had threatened her publicly, in a room filled with women. She bowed her head. "Is it too much to ask that we make our own choices, Your Grace?"
"I am following my son’s instructions," she said. "That is all any of you need to know."
"But, Your Grace—"
"All of you, go back to your apartments."
The women moved at once. The viol players rose awkwardly, clutching their instruments. Livia lowered herself into another curtsy and moved as if to leave with the others. She had nearly passed when Theodora caught her by the arm.
The grip was hard.
"I know what you are doing," Theodora said.
Livia looked down at the hand on her arm, then back at Theodora’s face. "Then Your Grace is quicker than I feared. I told you to be afraid, Your Grace...I did not make that threat lightly. I began with the mistresses. I wonder who will be next. The ladies of the household, perhaps. Or the chamber maids. Or the women who carry your linen, pour your wine."
"You overestimate yourself."
"No, Your Grace. I am beginning to understand you. A whisper here," Livia said. "A little sympathy there. Do you know why people will fall so easily to my side?" Livia asked. "Because everyone hates you."
Real fury broke through Theodora’s composure.
"Careful," Theodora said. "You are alive only because my son has made you inconvenient to kill."
"And you are still powerful only because everyone has been too afraid to say how much they despise you."
"Wait until I tell them where you came from."
Once, that threat might have broken her.
"I do not think so," Livia said. "You are much too afraid to damage your son’s image. If you tell the court I came from Beaumont’s house, you will also have to explain why the king kept me. You will not make me filthy without splashing mud on Henry’s boots, and we both know you cannot bear to weaken what you spent so many years building."
Theodora’s stare turned lethal. "You will be shocked how far I can go."
"Yes," Livia said. "I have been informed, and I have witnessed just how far you can go." She curtsied with exquisite politeness. "If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I would like to catch up on some letters." She turned and left the drawing chamber with Tabitha behind her.
Only when they reached the corridor did Livia allow herself to breathe fully. Lionel fell into step beside them almost at once, appearing from a side passage.
Livia glanced at him. "Smooth of you, making yourself scarce during that."
Lionel looked ahead, his face calm. "I thought it might lend the show more authenticity if I were absent."
"Thank you, Lionel," Livia said. "I appreciate what you are doing, despite how you believe it will end."
"Penance, my lady," he said. "For Lady Bella."
Livia nodded. "Are you ready for the next step?" she asked.
Lionel turned then. "I have him prepared for you, my lady. I have made certain he understands the seriousness of his position."
Livia smiled. Then she caught herself. The smile faded slowly as the meaning of it settled in her chest.
Whitehall was changing her. Now she heard that a man had been terrified into cooperation and felt satisfaction.
Perhaps that was how it usually began. Theodora had not been born with blood on her hands. Livia did not want to become her.
Yet she also did not want to be the woman Theodora could crush.
*****
Lionel took Livia out of Whitehall the following morning to see the scribe who had forged His Majesty’s hand.
A plain carriage was used, the curtains drawn, with two mounted men ahead and two behind. Lionel had chosen men who did not belong to Whitehall’s usual guard.
The house stood in a narrow street not far from the river. Lionel helped Livia from the carriage and led her inside. One of his men remained at the door. Another waited in the passage. They were not palace guards.
Master Oswald Finch sat at a small table. Livia paused at the doorway. This was the man who had helped Theodora.
She had imagined someone who looked obviously cruel. Instead, Oswald Finch looked like a frightened rat who had accepted cheese from the wrong woman.