Deception (Lady Grace Mystery Series #4)by Grace Cavendish, Sara Vogler, Jan Burchett, Grace Cavendish
Queen Elizabeth is furious at the production delays of her new coin. To escape her bad temper, Lady Grace and her fellow Maids of Honour skate down the frozen River Thames to the eagerly anticipated Frost Fair. But a gruesome discovery on the ice–a dead man with coins covering his eyes–interrupts the winter revelry. As the Queen’s Lady Pursuivant,… See more details below
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Queen Elizabeth is furious at the production delays of her new coin. To escape her bad temper, Lady Grace and her fellow Maids of Honour skate down the frozen River Thames to the eagerly anticipated Frost Fair. But a gruesome discovery on the ice–a dead man with coins covering his eyes–interrupts the winter revelry. As the Queen’s Lady Pursuivant, Grace must unravel the mystery.
Uncover a dangerous world of counterfeiting and corruption inside the private daybooke of Lady Grace, the queen’s favorite Maid of Honour.
All miscreants and ill-thinkers, keep out! The Lady Grace Mysteries come to us from the most privy and secret daybooke of Lady Grace Cavendish, Maid of Honour to her Gracious Majesty, Queen Elizabeth I of that name.
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By Lady Grace Cavendish
Random HouseLady Grace Cavendish
All right reserved.
The Twenty-third Day of November, in the Year of Our Lord 1569
The Queen's Presence Chamber-after breakfast
I have a new daybooke and I cannot wait to begin writing in it! I am determined to keep this book neat
and tidy with my best lettering throughout-and not make it look as if a drunken spider has crawled over
I am seated on a cushion with the other Maids of Honour in the Queen's Presence Chamber awaiting Her
Majesty's arrival. She is busy with matters of state. We have a huge fire, for it has been mightily cold this
last week. Indeed, the river Thames itself has frozen! The ice is thick enough to walk on and everyone is
talking about the Frost Fair that has been set up on the frozen water near the landing steps to the Inns
of Court. It is so exciting! We hope to visit today, when Her Majesty has finally finished with boring state
Outside, the ice and frost look very inviting, but inside it is gloomy and we have much need of candles.
The other Maids are working at their embroidery and Mrs. Champernowne, Mistress of the Maids, is
scowling at me for not doing the same. She looks ready to pounce the instant I make the tiniest ink blot
upon my kirtle. But she dare not chide me too much, as Her Majesty herself gave me this daybooke and
my fine quills and ink bottle. Ha, ha, Mrs. Champernowne!
The Queen is my favourite person in the whole world. She has taken me under her wing and often shows
me great kindness, because-
* * *
Hell's teeth! I have nearly spoiled my book already. I had to duck from a flying cushion. It would seem that
the matters of state did not go well, for the Queen has just burst in and is now roaring round the
chamber like a baited bear.
I'm not sure I should compare Her Majesty to a bear-baited or otherwise. However, this daybooke is for
my eyes alone, so I don't think I shall have my head cut off! Besides, as I was about to write before the
cushion interrupted me, I am a favourite with Her Majesty the Queen (except when she throws things).
She has never forgotten that my dear mother, God rest her soul, died saving her life last year. My mother
was Her Majesty's close companion, and the Queen was almost as sad as I was when she died. So she
made me a Maid of Honour, though I was only twelve, and vowed to protect me always. And now I am
also Her Majesty's secret Lady Pursuivant. If she should cut off my head, who would then pursue all
wrongdoers who trouble the Queen's peace?
Oh, dear, Her Majesty is glaring our way. I shall put my daybooke away for a while before some accident
Later this Day, still in the Queen's Presence Chamber
The royal storm has now abated-but it was most exciting while it lasted.
Her Majesty paced up and down, flapping a letter she'd just received, looking as if she would breathe fire
on the poor messenger, who cowered in the doorway waiting for an answer.
"What do you think is in that letter?" Lady Sarah whispered.
"Mayhap there is another problem with the new coin Her Majesty is having minted," Mary Shelton
suggested as she laid down the bonnet she is embroidering for her new niece.
"What problems are those?" asked Lady Jane, wide-eyed.
I was surprised that Lady Jane could have missed the tantrums and countless changes of mind the Queen
had had. It had taken Her Majesty months to choose a design that pleased her. Mr. Anthony, her
engraver, was up to the palace with new designs almost every day.
We were all greatly relieved when Her Majesty finally declared that the pattern of a griffin rampant would
adorn the new, pure silver coin. Her Majesty told me once that she thinks the griffin to be the epitome of
nobility, with its head of an eagle and its body of a lion. I think it looks a bit ugly, but I wouldn't tell the
Lady Sarah sniffed and shook her coppery locks. "Your ears are stoppered unless people are talking
about you," she told Lady Jane.
There is not much love lost between Lady Sarah Bartelmy and Lady Jane Coningsby. They each consider
themselves the most beautiful of the Maids, and it leads to a good deal of bickering. They both want to
make good marriages, and they see themselves as rivals for the favours of the young gentlemen of the
Court. I myself have no time for such silliness.
"How dare you! You foolish flax-wench!" spluttered Lady Jane.
"But I thought the problems with the coin had all been settled," said Penelope Knollys.
"Silence!" bellowed the Queen from the other end of the chamber. "May I not have a second's peace to
think?" And she looked about her for another missile to throw.
We ducked our heads down and busied ourselves with our work.
As there was nothing within reach, the Queen went on with her pacing. She always looks particularly
impressive when she's angry, with her flame-red hair and her flashing eyes. Her white silk gown swished
as she marched and her pearl ropes rattled with every step. Even the gold embroidery on her gown
seemed to flash in temper.
She wrestled with the letter as if about to tear it into shreds. "I cannot believe it," she said through
clenched teeth. "Finally, all is well with the design of my new coin, and now Sir Edward Latimer dares to
write me from the Royal Mint that there is not enough silver there to mint it! By heaven, they shall find
silver quick enough when they hear of my wrath!"
There was a whimper from the doorway and I thought the messenger was going to faint.
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