Page 5 of The Favourite

“Where is the Lady Jane?” he asked loudly, perhaps not employing the tact and discretion he should have—but fuck it. He wasn’t in the mood. All heads turned in his direction, and he became aware of a curiously tense atmosphere in the room.

Alisander lifted a quizzical eyebrow as he scanned the various expressions of shock and disapproval or at least, pretended shock and disapproval. These were courtiers after all, and appearances were everything. “You,” he said, pointing at a relative newcomer to Armenal’s retinue. “Speak.”

Frances Lessimore cleared her throat and then turned quite puce. She sent an agonized look at Magnetrude Bartree, who seemed to have recently assumed a senior role in proceedings. Mistress Bartree unfroze her gaunt features sufficiently to turn her head and direct a stern look upon him. “Lady Jane is still attending to some family matter,” she said haughtily, and Alisander deduced that there was rather more to this business than met the eye.

From The Bartree’s manner, clearly, Jane was not dealing with something as mundane as an ailing aunt. He pondered a moment. What else could it be? His mind raced. It would not be the first time one of Armenal’s favorites had fallen from grace. Eden Montmayne came to mind. Of course, she had run off and got herself married to a knight without the royal permission.

Had Jane left to pursue an unsanctioned offer of marriage? He felt a certain coldness sweep over him as if he had the ague. Maybe he was coming down with something? Once the giddy moment passed, he caught his breath. No, that was ridiculous. Jane would never do anything so audacious. She was a model of prudence and discretion.

He let his eye travel over Mistress Bartree as his thoughts raced. He marveled that the woman could look so severe, despite the richness of her burgundy gown. Likely, that close-fitting black silk cap she favored did not help, for it made her look quite bald. He devoutly hoped it would not become a court fashion, for it was ugly as hell.

“Still attending to family business?” he drawled aloud. “How dull. I thought she had at least run off with one of the royal guards from the way you all reacted.” His words did not make anyone start or exclaim, as though he had discovered some shameful secret.

Thus, reassured that Jane had not done anything so rash, he threw himself down onto the silk couch and lolled there for twenty minutes until Armenal finally made her appearance. As soon as all attention was on the Queen, he beckoned to one of her youthful male attendants.

The palace squires were regularly rotated to give them all an opportunity to serve Her Majesty, and Alisander was glad to see that today’s official usher was one he recognized and had, moreover, generously tipped on several occasions. In fact, he’d always had an excellent memory for useful faces and names and Piers Winstanley was useful, for the Queen favored his willowy, handsome appearance.

Whenever it was Piers’ turn to serve her, Armenal generously permitted him to accompany her, not only in the Presence Hall and Privy Chamber but in her private quarters also. As such, he had access to the areas and conversations thatArmenal only shared with her favored few.

“Piers,” Alisander murmured, “justify my high opinion of you by telling me which family member the Lady Jane has been attending?”

Piers Winstanley’s face broke into a grin. “The Royal Whore, milord,” he answered in hushed tones, surprising Alisander a good deal.

“The Royal—?” He sent a quizzical look in Piers’ direction. “Are you sure?”

The youth nodded, lifting a hand to shield his mouth from anyone who might be observing them. “Oh aye. It’s not widely known,” he added in hushed tones. “But the Queen’s spitting mad about it.”

“I’ll just bet she is.” Alisander pulled a face, making the lad chuckle before he returned dutifully to the Queen’s side.

The Royal Whore? Alisander pondered. What the fuck was Jane doing, jeopardizing her position at court to visit with her sister? Everyone knew the King’s interest had waned in that quarter. Since he had pensioned Helen Cecil off to his late mother’s estate, Wymer had scarcely even visited the mistress he had once showered with lavish attention.

Indeed, most whispers around court agreed that this final gift was nothing more than a pay-off and an excuse to send her away. Of course, there had been some rumor a few months ago, he recalled dimly, of a possible child resulting from the union… He considered this a moment before dismissing it. Even so, what of it?

It would not be Wymer’s first bastard, and likely not his last. The boys he tended to provide with minor titles and the girls were generously dowered. If their mothers were noble and unwed, they were provided with advantageous marriages. If they were already married, then their husbands received additional lands and fortunes.

If they were not well-born, such women were given generous allowances and sent off into rural obscurity. To give him his due, Wymer did not expect his Queen to suffer the indignity of a pregnant mistress flouted before her nose.

King Wymer was also notoriously fickle when it came to the objects of his affection. None of them ever lasted long, and as such, the Queen was usually indifferent to his fancies. The fact this liaison had lasted twice, if not three times as long as was customary, had meant the Queen had sat up and taken note.

For a time, some had wondered if Helen Cecil would prove the exception to the rule and a permanent fixture where the King was concerned. Alisander found himself wondering if the Queen, too, had harbored such thoughts before it had become apparent that Helen was nothing more than the latest in a long line.

Perhaps that was why Armenal was prickly now, that her own favorite, the quieter Cecil sister, had defected to her sister’s side. Foolish Jane, Alisander tutted under his breath. Why had she chosen to endanger her position at court now? It was inconvenient. It also did not make sense. She just wasn’t the reckless type. Try as he might, he could not dismiss the niggling suspicion he was missing something here.

He could see no reason for Jane’s loyalties to suddenly switch sides. Even if Helen Cecil had been delivered of a healthy son, what did it matter? King Wymer had at least two acknowledged bastard sons and, moreover, a legitimate one stashed somewhere in the kingdom. Jane served the Queen. More than that, she hung off her every word. He could see no reason why some niece or nephew from the wrong side of the blanket should steal her loyalty away from Queen Armenal.

He stuck it out for another hour or so, begrudging every minute, and then made his way toward the palace’s west wing. He had several sources he could approach, but he felt in this instance, instead of wasting hours approaching multiple people, he would much rather take the easiest approach. This meant bearding the lion in the den, and by the lion, he meant the King’s spymaster, Earl Vawdrey.

Oswald Vawdrey had an extensive spy network at his fingertips. The trouble was, he was not in the habit of sharing his resources with others. Alisander sighed. Still, in the past, despite serving different interests, they had managed, if not to collaborate, perhaps, co-operate with one another on several occasions.

In fact, once, Alisander had even gone out of his way to perform Vawdrey a rather sizeable favor … Funnily enough, that had been a tip-off about Lady Helen Cecil, he recalled now with an ironic smile to himself. Vawdrey was honorable enough to consider this a debt of sorts.

It would be stupid to use this favor up on an insignificant thing like this, he reflected as he drew nearer to the large spacious rooms that Vawdrey occupied during his working hours. It was hardly a matter of life or death,

Alisander slowed his steps once he reached the West wing of the castle. He had a suspicion, after all, of what must have occurred. Her sister must have borne a child. Before long, it would doubtless be whispered in the palace corridors that the King’s current mistress had been delivered of a royal bastard. What was the point in his asking Vawdrey now for more information?

Still, if that was all it was, then why would Jane have flown thence? As the Queen’s favorite, Jane’s place should have been at Armenal’s side, supporting her through this latest indignity, not celebrating her sister’s triumph. It did not make sense, unless … unless something had gone amiss. And rather badly amiss, for it to have driven Jane from the Queen’s side of the chess board.

He hesitated when Vawdrey’s door came into view. He needed to make up his mind. Only one outcome he fancied would have wrought such an effect on steadfast Jane’s loyalties. Her sister’s life must be in peril. On such occasions, family grievances and disputes could be swept aside. Was that it? And if so, what did this mean for Jane’s court position?