demanded that Morley be spared. That Morley would be idiot enough to interfere with an heir to the throne had never occurred to him and was the last straw for Cecil. He said he would be more than happy to provide me with the way out of the situation that I was looking for.”
“So Morley’s death in that bar fight was orchestrated by Cecil, on his own behalf and yours, Bess?”
“Exactly. I asked Cecil to spare me the gory details of exactly how he would arrange it. I asked him one favor, though.”
“And that was?” I asked. Bess looked so like a termagant as she recalled it that “his head on a silver platter” would not have surprised me as an answer.
“I wanted Morley to know, when it happened, that it was his reckoning for interfering with my Jewel, Arabella.”
“So that famous ‘reckoning’ over which Marlowe was killed was not the bar tab that history tells us it was?”
“The bar tab, as you call it, was mere invention. The document presented to Morley just before that fatal tavern scuffle was a note from me. I remember well what I wrote: ‘To one Morley, in reckoning for a Jewel,’ signed, E. Talbot.”
“You give the term ‘dead reckoning’ a whole new meaning, Bess! And you worded your note very cleverly too. Had anyone discovered it at the scene or after, it could be fobbed off as having something to do with an exchange of fashion accessories.And there had to have been dozens of E. Talbots floating around Britain at the time.”
“Cecil thought me clever as well,” Bess confided.
“I think what you did was
brilliant!
” I said. Renaissance literature and the better angels of my nature took a backseat for just a moment in deference to my feminist leanings and my fondness for Arabella and Bess.
Bess pulled herself to her full height and raised her right hand, exposing a beautiful, jeweled ring; in fact, a ruby ring. She raised it to her lips, puffed on the gem, and rubbed it to a shine on the fur of her ruff.
“Dolly,” she said, holding out her finger and admiring the ring, “you flatter me.”
“‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’” I replied.
Chapter Thirty-One
Bring on the Bling
I noticed at the conclusion of Bess’s tale that the cheerful, low fire that had been burning earlier in the grate was reduced now to mere embers.
“Time does fly,” I said, “when history is turned on its head for one’s benefit. I’ve enjoyed our visit, Bess, but I think it is time to move things along.”
“I suppose you are right, Dolly.”
“And you know, Bess, it is getting rather chilly in here.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Bess answered. I wasn’t surprised. She was likely the low-thermostat, wear layers, conserve-energy type.
“Maybe I could get out of this nightdress and into some warmer work clothes?” I asked.
“Delighted to oblige, Dolly.”
“Will Beaton, Seton, Livy, and Flamina be dressing me this time, as they did the last?” I asked hopefully. With Flamina being a Renaissance Vera Wang, I could be sure of being dressed to impress if she were at the fashion helm. And I needed a copilot, if not several, when it came to managing the considerable mechanics of full period dress.
“Not this time, Dolly. The four Maries of Mary, Queen of Scots, are not in residence at present. But have no fear. You will be well served and well dressed. And unless I am much mistaken,” she called out as she disappeared out of sight around the doorway, “accessorized like you have never been accessorized before!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Regalia Inter Alia
From the outside hallway, I heard two female voices talking indistinctly. I could not make out the words, but the general tone was one of excitement and laughter, and they were clearly nearing me.
The first lady to round the bend and come into view had garments of all hues and textures piled high in her arms. The weight of the textiles must have been considerable; it was hard to see how she managed to carry them all
“So Morley’s death in that bar fight was orchestrated by Cecil, on his own behalf and yours, Bess?”
“Exactly. I asked Cecil to spare me the gory details of exactly how he would arrange it. I asked him one favor, though.”
“And that was?” I asked. Bess looked so like a termagant as she recalled it that “his head on a silver platter” would not have surprised me as an answer.
“I wanted Morley to know, when it happened, that it was his reckoning for interfering with my Jewel, Arabella.”
“So that famous ‘reckoning’ over which Marlowe was killed was not the bar tab that history tells us it was?”
“The bar tab, as you call it, was mere invention. The document presented to Morley just before that fatal tavern scuffle was a note from me. I remember well what I wrote: ‘To one Morley, in reckoning for a Jewel,’ signed, E. Talbot.”
“You give the term ‘dead reckoning’ a whole new meaning, Bess! And you worded your note very cleverly too. Had anyone discovered it at the scene or after, it could be fobbed off as having something to do with an exchange of fashion accessories.And there had to have been dozens of E. Talbots floating around Britain at the time.”
“Cecil thought me clever as well,” Bess confided.
“I think what you did was
brilliant!
” I said. Renaissance literature and the better angels of my nature took a backseat for just a moment in deference to my feminist leanings and my fondness for Arabella and Bess.
Bess pulled herself to her full height and raised her right hand, exposing a beautiful, jeweled ring; in fact, a ruby ring. She raised it to her lips, puffed on the gem, and rubbed it to a shine on the fur of her ruff.
“Dolly,” she said, holding out her finger and admiring the ring, “you flatter me.”
“‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’” I replied.
Chapter Thirty-One
Bring on the Bling
I noticed at the conclusion of Bess’s tale that the cheerful, low fire that had been burning earlier in the grate was reduced now to mere embers.
“Time does fly,” I said, “when history is turned on its head for one’s benefit. I’ve enjoyed our visit, Bess, but I think it is time to move things along.”
“I suppose you are right, Dolly.”
“And you know, Bess, it is getting rather chilly in here.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Bess answered. I wasn’t surprised. She was likely the low-thermostat, wear layers, conserve-energy type.
“Maybe I could get out of this nightdress and into some warmer work clothes?” I asked.
“Delighted to oblige, Dolly.”
“Will Beaton, Seton, Livy, and Flamina be dressing me this time, as they did the last?” I asked hopefully. With Flamina being a Renaissance Vera Wang, I could be sure of being dressed to impress if she were at the fashion helm. And I needed a copilot, if not several, when it came to managing the considerable mechanics of full period dress.
“Not this time, Dolly. The four Maries of Mary, Queen of Scots, are not in residence at present. But have no fear. You will be well served and well dressed. And unless I am much mistaken,” she called out as she disappeared out of sight around the doorway, “accessorized like you have never been accessorized before!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Regalia Inter Alia
From the outside hallway, I heard two female voices talking indistinctly. I could not make out the words, but the general tone was one of excitement and laughter, and they were clearly nearing me.
The first lady to round the bend and come into view had garments of all hues and textures piled high in her arms. The weight of the textiles must have been considerable; it was hard to see how she managed to carry them all
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