Page 129 of The Favourite

Sir Reginald Hervey, that was it, thought Jane. That was the name of the man who had executed Alisander’s brother and uncles. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, Alisander had become the ward of the same man, and he and his wife had treated him most cruelly. “What sort of misfortunes?” Jane heard herself ask in a strange voice.

“Oh, he has not told you. I would have thought he would have far rather told you of the Hervey family tragedy rather than the de Balon one. Still”—she shrugged her shoulders—“such is the mystery of the male mind.” Seeing Jane’s fixed gaze, the Queen continued in hushed tones. “First, it was the Lady Hervey, who meet a sorry end. She fell one morning to her death from some walkway which skirted their house. A freak accident apparently. Her fall was broken by water, but then the unfortunate woman drowned before they could recover her.”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat as she remembered Alisander’s words. He had told her that his fondest daydream as a boy involved tampering with the parapet so that one day Lady Hervey would plummet to her death into the moat. Could it be mere coincidence?

“Then, only five years later, Sir Reginald’s only son and heir met his ill fate. He was stabbed to death after a dispute one night in a tavern and the perpetrator of the outrage never discovered.”

Jane closed her fingers around the gold ring she wore on her third finger. The one bearing the de Balon crest. Alisander had told her he stabbed a man in a tavern to retrieve this particular family heirloom. The story sounded remarkably similar. Another coincidence?

“Finally, some six months after that, Sir Reginald choked to death on a fishbone one night whilst dining alone.” Jane relaxed a little. That one sounded like natural causes at least. “The funny thing was,” the Queen continued, whispering, “that both his steward and his cook insisted such a thing was an impossibility, as no fish had been served that night. Yet when they cut into him, what was discovered lodged in his throat?” Jane turned horrified eyes on her. “A fish bone as big as a finger!” the Queen finished triumphantly, then gave a violent start.

They both turned and Jane saw that Piers was standing behind them apologetically. “Your Majesty,” he murmured, “the King has sent for you. He asks that you come to him. He cannot sleep.”

A spasm of annoyance crossed the Queen’s face. “Already? He cannot even have seriously tried!”

Piers lowered his gaze. “Yes, Your Highness,” he answered gravely.

The Queen turned a look on Jane as if to say, “You see?” then took off in a whirl of exasperation. Jane remained kneeling where she was, her mind a positive whirl. She had a horrible suspicion lurking in the back of her mind that she did not really want to examine by the light of day. Could Alisander have been the curse of the Hervey family?

But how could that be? He had just been a boy when he was taken into their home. A recently bereaved boy who had suffered from nightmares about the cruel fate of his family. You would not have liked me, Jane. That was what he had said. Would she have? Or rather, did she? Jane hardly knew by this point.

She spent another hour in the chapel until the service was over. Then she walked off the stiffness in her knees by making her way down the long corridor on her way back to their rooms. She had crossed the cobbled bailey and made it almost to the top of the steps leading to the courtiers’ quarters when she heard a steady thrumming noise which disconcerted her.

What was that noise? Looking back over her shoulder, she was surprised to see a company of armed guards marching across the courtyard. Why on earth, wondered Jane, would they be coming in this direction? For some reason, her heart started to thud ominously in her chest, and she quickened her pace.

There could be only one reason. They were coming to take someone away into their custody. But who? Jane’s last fleeting look revealed the soldiers had reached the bottom step. It was at that point, she ducked inside the entrance and raced toward their apartment. She could not possibly have said why, but her alarm grew with every stride.

“Ayleth!” she cried as soon as she was inside the door, bolting it fast. “Anne?”

“Whatever is it, milady?” Ayleth asked, poking her head out of a nearby doorway. Seeing the look on Jane’s face, she hurried toward her.

“Soldiers, Ayleth, outside.”

“Outside the door?”

Jane hurried past her. “Is your master at home?”

“He’s sat at his desk—” Ayleth started, but Jane did not wait to hear the rest. She was already through the door.

“Alisander!” He looked up in surprise and, seeing her expression, stood straight up. “Soldiers!” she blurted. He gazed back at her blankly. “Soldiers?”

“On their way here, I think! What will we do?”

“You came to warn me?”

She thought for a moment, he looked rather gratified. Then a heavy thudding sounded at their door. A baby started to cry, though whether it was Bertrand or Celestia she knew not in the moment.

Jane whipped around. “I knew it!” she gasped. “What will we do?”

“If I am exiled, you mean?” he asked and seemed to consider the question. “I suppose … that we would return to the old country and throw ourselves on the mercy of King Wilhelm.”

Jane reached out an arm to grab hold of his sleeve. “Should I pack, in case of having to leave in the night? How would we get safe passage there? We have a baby, don’t forget, and—”

“I’m teasing,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t look so frightened. I would never let anything bad happen to you. Or Celestia,” he added thoughtfully. “We won’t be exiled. There is not even the slightest possibility of it. I have always promised Robert.”

“You are sure?” She clung to him.

He nodded. “But it’s nice to know that you would stand by my side. All will be well, Jane,” he said soothingly. “Don’t look like that.”