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Robert?”
    As usual, Lord Robert reddened and bowed. Sir Gerald was looking very smug now.
    “And the beautiful dagger. Surely it speaks of a keen intelligence and a cutting wit. I was tempted because I would like so pretty a knife—but who woos with a blade? Surely a knife cuts the knot and does not tie it, Sir Gerald?”
    Now Sir Gerald was scowling. It gave an ugly sneer to his mouth. He knocked back another silver cup of wine and held it out for a pageboy to refill.
    I turned to the Queen and went down on one knee again. “In conclusion, Your Majesty, I am happy in your service. I yet have no desire to marry.”
    The Queen shook her head, smiling sadly. “It was my promise to your parents, Grace,” she said. “You must have a husband to look after your estates.”
    “Well, in that case…” I stood, sighed, trailed my fingers along the dagger and the flask, and then picked up the lovely pearl necklace and looped it carefully round my neck. “I choose my Lord Robert’s gift.”
    He looked absolutely moonstruck. Quite like a calf with the bellyache, as Masou described him. I had to squash the urge to laugh.
    He came forward with his face as red as ever to kiss my hand. “Um … Lady Grace … I, um … Um,” he said.
    The musicians struck up another dance tune as Sir Gerald rolled his eyes and drank another cup of aqua vitae. Lord Worthy hurried over and whispered in his ear again, which provoked a snarl.
    Lord Robert and I danced a passage of the Volta, which got everyone staring, but that’s what the musicians were playing. And yes, when Lord Robert lifted me, he felt strong enough and he steadied me when I landed—but he still didn’t manage to say anything except “Um” and “Er.” I felt quite sorry for him, though at least when I’m married to him
I
shall be able to talk as much as I like.
    The other courtiers joined in and other couples went jigging and jumping and whizzing past us. I saw Sir Charles sitting at the side near a bank of candles, watching us rather sourly. Then Sir Gerald came through with a rather stout Lady-in-Waiting, and barged Lord Robert out of the way and trod on his foot. Off he went again.
    Nobody else had noticed, but Lord Robert was gripping his sword. “I h-hate him,” he sputtered.
    I put my hand on his, gripping his sword hilt. “But you won and he lost,” I said. “Why not be kind and forgiving?”
    “My Lady Grace …,” said Lord Robert, “you … are … so … w-wonderful.”
    Well, it was the longest speech he has ever made me, and it was quite flattering, so I smiled and kissed his cheek.
    Dancing makes me thirsty and so, when the music stopped, I fanned myself and asked for something to drink. Lord Robert went to the sideboard where the pages and serving men were pouring wine. He waited patiently for Lord Worthy to get himself some mead, turning to survey the hall before taking a goblet for himself and a little Venetian glass cup of a flower water for me.
    Sir Charles and Sir Gerald were collecting the gifts I had turned down. I was sorry I had offended Sir Charles, because usually he really is a nice old thing. Sir Gerald looked furious—pale, eyes glittering, with little patches of colour on his cheeks. He rocked as he swept up the dagger and stuck it in his belt. “Only a silly little chit of a girl chooses astripling boy over a man grown,” he snarled. “Does she think Lord Robert will look after her? She’ll be wiping his bum for him.”
    He glugged back his wine, not noticing some pink spots on his ruff. He held it out to be refilled, but the pages and serving men are given strict orders by the Queen that anyone who looks drunk is not to be served. She won’t have scenes at her Court as they do at the King of Scotland’s, for instance.
    “Oh, for Christ’s sake, have we run out of booze already?” Sir Gerald demanded vulgarly.
    I took my flower water out of Lord Robert’s hand because he was scowling at Sir Gerald, and turning pink at