The Other Elizabeth

Chapter XXVI: Winter 1459-Winter 1460

Chapter XXVI: Winter 1459- Winter  1460 

Scales Hall, Norfolk, England 

'Tis the Lord my Father's sixtieth birthday today. Having been away from both my Father and Mother the last ten years, and only seeing them on rare occasions, my Father even less so, I had not realised how greatly they, as well as my kinsmen and women, have aged. They were not considerably young when I was born, but my childhood memories are of a Father and Mother who were somewhat content, who could dance a sprightly jig and laugh- not so the man and woman downstairs in the Great Hall complaining of ailments, with silver and white snow-kissed hair, wrinkles in their faces. My Father is as portly as my Mother is thin, and, as I stare at the reports from my stewards of all my manors, I realise my youth is truly over. I am a woman now, and I am an equal to them, not a child. They could die in the coming years...

The door to my bedchamber opens and my Mother slowly walks in. Why, I am even taller than she is now. I outshine her, even when she wears the most sumptuous of colours. She is an ageing woman now; there is no pretence of youthfulness. I turn around from my desk.

"Elizabeth," she says gently, "Do quit that for now. There are many of your kinsfolk who do wish to see you." My Father is indeed holding a feast in celebration of his birthday. I sigh, for there are a few more papers to cast my weary eye over. I am also reading through the contracts signed last year concerning my jointure and dower lands. I am employing the skills Lady Isabel once taught me as a young child- weighing up my position, value, lands, and wealth. I refused to enquire into the matter so soon after Henry's death, but I must know where I stand, and what I own myself. There is no use being docile and entrust my Mother to take care of everything. I accept Henry's death by looking at these contracts, what he left to me, the man in the end, that I feel I barely knew. He will be a cherished figure of my youth, but I still wonder if I ever did love him. For who can tell?

I know that I must marry again-indeed; mayhap there shall be some person here tonight... This is the way of the world. Whether I shall love him I know not, but I have to provide an heir, for I cannot remain unwed now my widows' weeds are cast aside, and I can make merry again.

"I shall come down quite soon," I reply vaguely, my eyes concentrating on the figures in front of me. I hear her feet patter on the floor behind me, and she rests her hands on the back of my chair, peering over my shoulder at all the rolls of parchment before me, and I can feel the warmth emulating from her shrunken frame.

"'Tis a wonder to see this day, Elizabeth, the day you sit down and take to business matters." I glance up at her, but she is smiling at me, and I smile back shyly, turning back to the last column. "Thomas is sixty this day," she says after a short pause. I indeed stop myself, for 'tis strange to hear her refer to my Father thus, and the name of my poor brother. Does it pain her to say that name? I think of the boy that would have been the heir, and think of my own Father; his own brother Robert died in youth as Henry did, leaving the barony to him. And now I must continue this bloodline of de Scales. I shift, tidying up some of the papers. Is this a good moment to impart to her...?

"I understand your concern for your lack of heir, with the concern of your... ages. Do not fret, Lady Mother, I am to marry again." I turn around, seizing her hands. I gulp, and look into her eyes. "Indeed, I am promised." I look up at her warily.

She draws in a sharp intake of breath. "Promised? Promised? Elizabeth, do you mean you have given yourself to someone?"

"No!" I cry, standing up in a whirl to face her. "You still think so lowly of me, that I am no better than a lady of very ill reputation?" I say in disbelief. She truly does?