“Not too tall now, methinks,” she remarked with a smile.
The child giggled. “Nay, just right. Too bad we have nothing to eat. We could have a feast right here, all by ourselves. I do so love feasts and merrymaking.” Wrinkling her nose, her expression grew solemn. “‘Tis been a sad house since my papa died.”
Alicia had the urge to gather the child into her arms, but restrained herself, lest she act too forward. She did not even know the winsome girl’s name.
“May God have mercy on his soul,” she murmured. “And may his sweet angels keep watch over you.”
“Amen,” the girl breathed. Then she ran her hand down Georgie’s broad back.
Alicia stroked the animal’s other side. Georgie closed his eyes with a look of pure bliss. No one spoke for several minutes.
“I heard what Isabel said to you,” the girl announced.
Alicia paused in midstroke. “And what did you hear?”
“Do not believe a thing Isabel says. She has a viper’s tongue.”
Alicia widened her eyes. “’Tis not polite to speak that way about a member of your family.”
The child snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Thank the good Lord she is not a blood relation.” She lowered her voice. “And she is not going to marry Tom at all. He cannot stand her.”
Alicia moistened her lips. “How do you know? Did my Lord Cavendish tell you this piece of news—or did it float through a keyhole?”
The lass giggled again. “Both. That is why you must marry my brother without delay.”
Alicia pretended to be surprised. “Oh? I am merely the daughter of a goldsmith. How can I marry a great lord?”
The other shrugged her shoulders. “My papa betrothed Thomas to a goldsmith’s daughter years ago. I was weaned on that tale. William often teased poor Tom about it.” She regarded Alicia with a pair of bright blue eyes. “Methinks my papa made a wise choice for him.”
Alicia laughed. “How do you know? Why, you do not even know my name.”
“Mistress Alicia Broom.” The girl shot her a triumphant look.
“My, my, your ears must be overflowing with gossip. I fear you have me at a disadvantage, for I do not know who you are.”
The child swept her flyaway hair out of her eyes, then straightened her posture. “I am Lady Mary Elizabeth Cavendish, so please you.”
Alicia smiled as she inclined her head to Lady Mary. “It pleases me right well to make your acquaintance.”
Mary clapped her hands. “Good! I want us to be friends. Do you like to play games?”
Alicia blinked at the lightning shift in the conversation. “Aye, though it has been a while since I had the opportunity. What sort of games do you have in mind?”
Mary sighed with anticipated pleasure. “Every kind under the sun. Shuttlecock and battledore, hoodman’s bluff, hoops, cards. I love games.” She made a face. “Isabel does not. She is such a mud hen! You must pay her no mind. She only wants Tom to marry her because she wants to be the Countess of Thornbury. She does not love him at all. In fact, she thinks my brother is half-witted.”
“That is a very shameful thing to say, Lady Mary,” Alicia remarked in an offhand manner, though her heart raced under her tight bodice.
The girl did not look the least bit dismayed, but continued to stroke Georgie. “Aye, but I did not say it. Isabel did. I heard her.”
“Through a keyhole, perchance?”
Mary grinned at her. “Aye! How else am I to learn what happens under our roof? No one tells me anything. Was your governess a witch?”
Alicia bit her cheeks to keep from laughing out loud. “I fear that the daughters of goldsmiths do not have governesses, though my…my father taught me to read and write.”
The child sighed. “Lucky you! Mine is Mistress Vive—her real name is Genevieve, but ‘tis a mickle mouthful to say if one is in a hurry. She is utterly a perdition!” Mary flopped over backward with a dramatic groan.
“I am sure that she tries her best.”
The sprite made a rude noise with her lips. “Not so! All she wants to do is nap or eat sweetmeats the livelong day. Every time I look at her, she clicks her tongue at me and tells me that my husband will have to horsewhip me to make me behave.” She snorted. “I am not past twelve years. What do I want with a husband?” Rolling over onto her stomach, she gave Alicia a very shrewd look. “But you will do very well as Tom’s wife. You already like his dogs, and that is half the battle.”
“Tell me something about your brother,” Alicia prompted. She had seen Thomas for only a moment, and she still wasn’t sure if she had pleased or shocked him. Andrew’s assurances had done little to calm her apprehensions.
Mary grinned. “He is the sweetest and gentlest of men. John was nice enough to me, but he was always away on Papa’s business about the estates. William was…a great roaring boy. In plain truth, a bully. I hated him then, but I do miss him now. I never truly wanted him dead.”
“I am sure that you did not,” Alicia soothed.
Mary’s eyebrow rose up. “Oh, I confess, I sometimes thought about it, especially when William got me into trouble with Papa or Mistress Vive, but now…” She gave herself a little shake. “Tom often reads stories to me from one of his books. He plays chess very well, though sometimes I can beat him. He lets me have extra sweetmeats after dinner, and he has a lovely singing voice, though no one hears it but me and the dogs.”
“Why is that?” Alicia breathed.
“He does not like to call attention to himself. William treated Tom shamefully every chance he got. I do not blame Tom for staying out in the woods until all hours, or for finding his dogs better company. Pray, do not be fooled by my brother, Mistress Alicia. ‘Tis all a ruse. He is sparse of words by choice. ‘Tis true, he is very shy among company. But make him lose his temper, and bang!” She clapped her hands, which startled Georgie out of his reverie. “Thomas spews forth such speeches that would make the Archbishop of York faint with surprise.”
Alicia tucked this piece of intelligence away in her memory. “Most interesting.”
A gong sounded in the chamber below them. Its tones reverberated from the stone walls of Wolf Hall.
Mary and Georgie both jumped to their feet. “Supper!” the lass chirped over her shoulder as she and the mastiff hurried out the doorway. “Remember what I said.”
“Aye, ‘tis graven upon my mind.” Rising from the floor, Alicia brushed off stray tawny dog hairs. Lady Mary Cavendish had said quite a lot, she mused as she tightened her braid. She prayed she could remember it all.
Thomas heard Isabel’s nasal whine before he saw her. She seemed to be particularly prickly tonight.
“Must be my new guest who has set her mind a-whirl,” he muttered to Vixen, who hugged his side as usual. Thomas allowed his fingertips to run along the top of the greyhound’s narrow head. “Not that my Lady Tart-Tongue has much of a mind to disorder. God shield me.”
Vixen licked his fingers