Page 58 of Eloise and the Queen
When I reported this conversation to Colby, he regarded me with pure alarm.
We stood in a little-used corridor, I with my arms full of fabric, he having entered from outside. We’d arranged the meeting, but to anyone passing it would look as though we’d come upon each other by chance in the middle of errands, perhaps even halting a moment to flirt.
“She cannot possibly cut Elizabeth from the succession,” Colby said in a low, fierce voice. “Nor can we tolerate a marriage to Philip of Spain. We shall be in the hands of the Empire, and England will be swallowed whole. If Mary pushes this marriage through, we will have to act.”
“Act?” I repeated, my breath deserting me.
“Yes, act, Mistress Rousell. Did you believe us only full of pretty words?”
I was uncertain what to think. Conspiracies were fashionable during any reign—young, wealthy, and well-born gentlemen grew restless and decided that they’d change the world to suit them.
Their need for change often dwindled into nothing more than bold words sworn over ale in taverns, but Colby’s angry gaze told me he had moved from words to careful planning.
Planning meant raising money and gathering men at arms, leaving hearth and home to march against the monarch.
I realized as we stood in that chilly passageway that Colby had told me far too much. He could not risk that I would not run straight to Mary.
Colby must have read the worry in my eyes, because he placed strong hands on my shoulders. “I trust you, Eloise. It is not blind trust, either. I know you love Elizabeth and would do anything to keep her from harm. I would do the same. You may put your trust in me.”
“I am not reassured,” I said, lifting my chin.
“There is danger coming. Much danger—to you, to me, to her. If you cannot bear that, then leave her household immediately and return to your mother. Stay quietly in her popish home and forget about our Lady Elizabeth.”
I swallowed as Colby gave me details about my life I had not told him. “You know much about my family.”
“I know everything about you, Eloise Rousell.” Colby’s grin flashed. “I would not have approached you had I not found out all about you. I believed I had measure of you.”
I hid my flinch. “How comforting.”
“Dudley trusts you, though he can be more of a fool about people than I. But in this instance, he was correct.”
“More comfort.” My heart thumped. “You know much about me, but I know nothing about you. How can I be certain I can trust you?”
Colby lost his smile, and his cheekbones stained red. “You know all you need to know.”
“Which is next to nothing,” I continued stubbornly. “Not even the name of the wife you married.”
“She came from no important family. You would not recognize her.”
Colby’s mouth had tightened, not with anger, but with trepidation, I realized in surprise.
I wondered what he was hiding, and I resolved to find out. If my fate was in his hands, I needed all the information about him I could gather.
“There is someone approaching, Master Colby,” I said as footsteps sounded in the passageway beyond us. “Perhaps you ought to release me.”
Instead of complying, Colby pulled me all the way against him and pressed a kiss to my mouth.
The kiss was brief and unexpected, but my lips went hot beneath his, and my breath came close to choking me. Colby held me firmly but not harshly, his touch almost tender.
He stepped back as one of Mary’s ladies came around the corner. A mercy he did, because I thought I’d never breathe again.
Colby was not quick enough to prevent Mary’s lady from spying us. Her brows went up and her mouth down, but she passed by with the barest of nods.
I understood what he’d been doing. Better that Mary’s lady spread the news that I was kissing James Colby in back corridors, than that we’d been speaking about preventing the queen’s marriage scheme, by force if necessary.
Colby gave me a somber nod before he turned and strode away from me, his dark tunic and riding breeches soon lost in the shadows.
I spent a long time trying to catch my breath, my heart burning.
