The Spymaster's Daughter Read Online Free PDF

of the queen’s chief councilors.
    â€œThe gardens grow well, Father, although the roses will soon fade, and I will direct the pruning and mulching of the beds, which must begin in a month or so.”
    He shook his head hastily. “The chief gardener will attend to such.”
    She pretended an affront. “Surely you trust that I can order—”
    â€œI bid you, daughter, do not look for ill, because you will surely find it.” His slight smile took away the censure. “Her gracious Majesty has sent word that you are not to languish for a day longer than necessary at Barn Elms with Sir Philip gone. She commands you to court as a lady of the presence chamber.”
    Frances showed all the surprise he expected. “To court!”
    This was where she wanted to be, but not as one of the ladies who provided a pleasing background for Her Majesty’s audiences. Nevertheless, at court she would be near her father and his work, near Dr. Dee and Thomas Phelippes.
    â€œA great honor, Father. This is a court position to bring credit to our family. Any woman would long for such favor.”
    Any woman but me
, she thought, though she knew better than to speak the words. Her father was used to seeing beyond words.
    â€œAlas, there is no joyfulness in your face, Frances. You are tooglum with no reason, since your husband is also about the queen’s business. I bid you to keep a cheerful face at court, or Her Majesty will not seek your company.”
    Frances changed the subject. “I will have many hours when I can care for you, if you have need.”
    It was true; he would need her camphor poultices to draw heat from his joints and cool his aches, which kept him abed sometimes for days. Physicians with all their bloodlettings and vile diets had never done better for him. When she cured his pain he would listen to her, hear her dreams, and grant her a place in his work. Her spirits lifted with the hope that she saw the future truly.
    He took her hand. “I am happy to hear that being a pleasing background is agreeable to you, daughter.” The deep worry lines on his face relaxed. “You have the fair coloring and large gray eyes of your mother…her sweet beauty.” His face sagged for a moment with painful memory.
    â€œFather, I am sorry to remind you of your loss.”
    â€œYou do not,” he said firmly, his jaw tightening. “I but remember her much softer nature. You, Frances, are unrelenting in your wants.”
    â€œIn that I am like you, Father. Surely it is not only sons who inherit strength and courage from their fathers.”
    He dropped her hand, studying her closely, as if just now seeing her clearly. “As I said, unrelenting.”
    â€œPerhaps, Father, you see me truer than I see myself,” she said, careful to keep her tone from being quarrelsome.
    â€œYou have my black hair,” he said softly, as if he were just noticing. “I will order red wigs for you. Everyone at court is wearing them, as the queen does.”
    Frances knew she would look dreadful in a red wig, but she did not want to stand out from the other ladies and draw unwanted attention with her dark hair flowing free. It was unbecoming of amarried woman. Although she expected no good outcome, she could not stop herself from one last appeal, and she held her breath as if leaping into a fast-running stream.
    â€œI will be of very good cheer and please the queen, but I will have many hours to fill my days with other work, Father…work with you.” She pulled the letter from her basket and held it out to him. “This I have done, teaching myself to remove the signet seal of this letter and return it so that its opening cannot be detected. See here; the seal’s edges are not even raised….”
    His face tightened with her every word until her voice trailed off into silence.
    â€œDaughter, have a care that you do not become shrewish. I have a good man for