The Heir and the Spared

Chapter Eighteen

Sarah had been up half the night considering what to say to the queen. She had practiced the speech two dozen times in her head, going over the words in her mind, afraid to whisper them lest she somehow wake up Catherine. Bess had woken up twice to ask if she was alright, because Sarah had been shifting in discomfort. Of course, Sarah felt badly enough about that, but it would have been far worse to wake Catherine. That was part of the reason why she wanted to talk to Her Majesty.

In the morning when she went to dress the queen, she felt rather faint with weariness and nerves. Yet she steeled her resolve.

After attempting to listen to the queen's pleasantries while she dressed Her Majesty, Sarah finally could not bear it any longer.

"Your Majesty, forgive me for saying so, but if I may..."

She swallowed when the queen's eyes met hers in the mirror, and her hands stilled in the queen's hair.

"I have a concern, Your Majesty, that some of the girls with whom I share a room may be growing suspicious."

"I see," the queen said coolly. "And this concerns you, because..."

Having failed to arouse the queen's concern thus far, Sarah felt her face heat with an embarrassed and angry flush. Hurriedly, she moved to heat the curling irons so that the queen did not see her altered countenance.

"If my bed-fellow does not feel the pregnancy, the other girls will surely see it," Sarah explained, busying herself with her tools. "And when they do, they may well agitate for my removal by Mrs. Smith."

"You think a servant-girl or Mrs. Smith will address such a matter to me?" the queen replied. "At such a time?"

It was a fair point, Sarah supposed, yet all the same, she persisted. She had not forgotten that she was a servant-girl herself, and she had little right to ask anything of the queen. That was precisely why, in her rehearsal for this moment, she had reminded herself to always emphasize the interests of the queen. Even if the queen paid her a hundred pounds a month, even if the queen doted on her and gave her special tea, she could not forget that she was only a servant, only a vessel for what might be the queen's heir.

"I think, Your Majesty, that knowing your great religious devotion, they might expect you to wish to know if your maid has been behaving in an un-Christian and un-maidenly manner." Though Sarah's eyes were lowered as she moved to style the queen's hair, she raised them briefly as she added, "I fear that indeed, they may not bring the matter to me at all, and might attempt to have Mrs. Smith dismiss me without consulting you."

"They would not," the queen said sternly, and her voice slipped just slightly into its old accent. Sarah's stomach fluttered with fear.

"I thank you, my queen, for graciously protecting me and offering me this opportunity," Sarah continued, attempting to keep the tremble out of her voice. "For if I was discovered, if I was removed... I fear it would be impossible for my child to be brought secretly to your rooms."

Once again, Sarah dared to behold the queen's face in the mirror, and found that the queen's eyes had grown dark.

"Even if," Sarah pressed her luck slightly more, having already dared to go so far, "my condition was discovered and I was kept on, I do not know how I should give birth and have the child brought to you in secrecy."

The queen was quiet for a moment longer than Sarah found comfortable. "What do you suggest?"

"Your Majesty has already been so kind and generous, I hardly dare ask," Sarah said, her voice barely above a whisper.