The Other Elizabeth

Chapter VIII: Midsummer's Day 1449

Bessie is pinning some type of bejewelled flowers in my tresses, whilst Agnes rubs some sort of ointment on my face, covering the fading bruise left there by mother, who is studying me, arms akimbo. I push my feet into beaded slippers and thin pattens, but my wide skirts hide these, whereas my Mother's ugly poulains protrude from her gown of claret.

She fastens a small pendant- I was rather glad she was not going to force me to wear a reliquary, although Henry would have been pleased to see such an object about my person- of red jasper, onto my neck.

"It stands for love," she says. A strange feeling encompasses me, and she lets go of the chain.

"Thomas? Thomas!" she calls. Would I be marrying Henry if my brother Thomas had lived, or would I be marrying some obscure knight? What would Thomas look like now? My Father appears, in dark green hose, and stands still in the doorway. He looks me up and down, blinking. I smile shyly.

"Does she not look fine?"

"Indeed she does, Emma." His pet name for my mother, rather than Ismania?! They look at each other, and then back at me. I stand up straighter, pushing my shoulders back.

"I am off to be married!" I say, rather croakily. For some strange reason, I am trying not to cry.

"It's Elizabeth!"

"Here comes the bride!" someone calls. I stand at the top of the staircase; a large gathering of my kinsmen and women has formed, all decked in gay colours. Their eager faces gaze up upon me, as Bessie fastens a silver cloak about my person. She smiles at me. I take a deep breath, and place one foot on the next step. It seemingly takes eternity. All the noise around me fades to my ears; all I can hear is my soft slippers ringing loudly against the stone, as I go down, one by one. Time stretches. My heartbeat thuds in my ears. This is it- this is my wedding day.

They're all cheering, clapping, and cajoling to be near me, linking arms and tossing petals. They pull me into the bright sunlight, and help me up onto Lucy. Their voices are seemingly as far away as the Byzantine Empire over in the east, as if they are underwater. I study everything in a trance, clutching my stomach and gulping. Can I do this?

A messenger arrives to say the groom's party are assembled and waiting: Henry's family takes precedence over mine, being of a higher rank. Henry... My belly takes another turn, and we begin the quick trot to St. Mary and All Saints. Everyone sings merry songs of love, whilst I ride in uncomfortable silence next to my Lady Mother and Father. She only converses with me once, and that is in hushed tones, about whether Bessie has instructed me what to do tonight. I lie, and say yes, because I do not wish to partake in a strained and embarrassing conversation with her, and because Bessie became all flustered and quick of temper when I broached the subject again. I am beginning to wonder what secrets she harbours over matters of the heart...

In the distance, as we come out of a shaded woodland area, I see the church, and a gathering congregated there. You can do this, Elizabeth, you are Elizabeth de Scales, a great heiress, and born for greatness, I tell myself, for I do believe I am, and mayhap Henry and I will be a Duke and Duchess one day...

Those mounted on horseback dismount, and the stable hands brought along hurry to speed them away of out sight. I take my Father's hand as he helps me down. I re-arrange my skirts, conscious of the silence that is befalling the crowd, the watchful eyes, and whispers. My Father puffs out his chest, and my Mother gives me her blessing.

"Go with God," she says, as if I am about to embark on some great pilgrimage, her voice oddly strained. I haunch my shoulders, and turn around to face my future.