The Other Elizabeth

Chapter V: Winter-Summer 1448

"Bessie! Bessie! My Lady! My Lady! I-ss-s-s-s-a-b-b-b-el." I start to sob, arms wrapped around my chest. What has happened? Where has all this blood come from? Am I going to die?

Three hours later, I have been washed in the bathtub, paid numerous uncomfortable visits to the garderobe, and have written an equally uncomfortable letter to my Lady Mother, saying that I have started my courses. My Lady has explained to me all about them- thank the Lord, I am not dying!

"Has no person explained to you about them?" My Lady says. I am sitting by the fire in the solar, while she brushes my hair.

"Yes," I reply, blushing, "I just panicked, you know how I am- as loose-headed as a shepherdess who fell asleep and lost her flock."

"Hmm," she snorts, and I presume I have said something witty again. She continues her soothing, rhythmic, strokes, and then suddenly stops. "I don't want to startle you, Elizabeth, but you know what this entails. You can bear children now, you can become married now." I whip around, as sharp as one of the hailstones flinging themselves into the window.

"But I do not want to leave here! I do not want to be married to a man. I am only twelve!" My Lady embraces me, and I lean against her knees. She makes sympathetic noises, as my stomach twists and eyes spurt.

"I know my dear, I know."

*****

A few days later, a letter arrives from my Lady Mother. She says that my Lord Father is too busy to send one himself- too busy at court, where they are all a little worried, because Her Grace, Queen Marguerite, has shown no signs of being with child yet. She repeats family gossip, and how my cousins are faring.

She signs of courteously, and then adds a little note at the bottom of the parchment. I am sending you a dark blue kirtle I used to wear when I had my courses. Of course, I have them no more, and I can have no sons. The kirtle is of the finest linen from Paris, which should hopefully befit you. I shall hope to see you in the summertide to discuss your marriage.

I swallow; The reality of marriage is creeping up on me, creating waves of nausea inside me, and making me feel rather old. I feel as though I should not be climbing trees or cartwheeling around anymore...

*****

Glittering golden rays are bouncing off the windows into flashes of brilliant white diamond light this summertide day, replacing the hailstones and storms of winter.

"My Lady Mother says we are to go out for the day. What should we do?" Henry says. He is hovering in the library doorway, watching me as I try to reach for another book of Camelot legends, right at the top of the shelf.

"Will the others be accompanying us?"

"No, because of this mighty heat, they are all hiding out in the icehouse."

"Even William?" The idea of them all crammed in that miniscule hut fills me with mirth, even if they are considerably cooler than we are.

"No, he is out riding somewhere, or practising jousting. He does not concern me. Let me fetch that book for you, you have been struggling all this while." He strides over to me; he clearly intends for us to also ride, for he is wearing his maroon leather riding boots and hose. My head only comes up to his breast now, which is encased in a rather nice-looking pourpoint, as he has grown considerably in height the past few months. He reaches up effortlessly and pulls down the book-it is the right one, out of all of them. He knows me so well.

"This one?" He hands me it, and our fingers brush together. I nod. I can feel the heat radiating off him. I look up. We are so very close. He takes a tiny step back, as I take the book and hold it to my chest. I lower my eyelids and peek at him, my lips pursing together.