Chapter Three
Nan Greenwood stood gazing through the leaded panes into the darkness with unseeing eyes. The picture she saw so clearly was in her mind's eyes, as she relived the night Burgundy's mother died.
The pain was as sharp as if it had happened yesterday. The lump in Nan's throat almost choked her. Behind her, the fire crackled and she turned to gaze into its flames, remembering... remembering:
Sleet dashed against the windowpane of the bedchamber as Nan tried to poke up the meager fire.
"Don't cry, Nan. I brought it all upon myself and I am resigned to my fate."
"Jane, my lamb, you mustn't say such things. You have the babe to live for now."
Jane smiled poignantly and shook her head. "It's all right, Nan. It is very important that we don't pretend anymore. There are things you must promise to do for me. I have no one else."
Nan was almost overcome. If only the Lord in his mercy would take her instead.
"Bring me a quill and parchment. I must write a letter to the queen begging her forgiveness. I am going to ask her to see to my child's education. I must find words that will pull on Elizabeth's heartstrings."
"She has no heart, Jane. She flew into a fury and dismissed you because you flouted her authority."
Jane shook her head again, then brushed the burgundy tendrils from her baby's temples. "The queen will do what is right, as I should have done."
Lady Jane Lynton, maid of honor to Elizabeth Tudor, had fallen in love with John Bedford, a secret agent of Walsingham's. The intrigue had been exciting until she suspected she was with child. Rather than marry the man her family and the queen had chosen for her, she eloped with her lover and turned her back upon her duty to others. And as the legend of the ancient book foretold, disaster had followed.
Jane had been dismissed from court amid a scandal. Her parents had disowned her. Trouble had not drawn her and her new husband closer, but had caused bitter feelings. John Bedford was away much of the time in France and Holland, leaving Jane in poor lodgings in London with only her devoted Nan for company.
Then ill luck befell the Lyntons. Their merchant ships sank in storms, their precious cargoes were lost at sea, two sons drowned, and then the queen had withdrawn her patronage and bestowed it elsewhere. Now, Jane lay dying, her lifeblood ebbing away in childbed, leaving her babe motherless.
When Nan took the queen's letter from her, Jane clung to the quill. "One more letter... this one for my daughter. Promise me you will keep this book safe for her. It has been in my family for generations, lovingly passed down from mother to daughter through the centuries."
Nan's heart constricted as she heard her lady's voice growing weaker. "Do not give it to her until she is old enough to comprehend the legend. This ancient book is her legacy. I hope she is wise enough to see that 'With Honor Comes Glory.'"
When Burgundy came from the dinner party she found Nan sitting with the book in her lap. She unfastened her ruff and kicked off her slippers. "Nan, it was kind of you to wait up for me. Please take that worried look off your face; I want to share my plans with you."
"I know you are about to take a big step in your life, my lamb, but before you tell me your decision, I must keep a promise I made to your mother after you were born."
"Nan, what are you talking about?"
"This book. Your mother asked me to keep it for you. She said it was a legacy, handed down for generations from mother to daughter."
"But why did you wait until now?" Burgundy asked, taking the book.
"Because I feel in my heart the time is right."
Burgundy carried the book into her chamber, lit the candles, and lifted the cover. It was old, ancient perhaps, and a thing of great beauty. Obviously it had been treasured and lovingly preserved down the centuries. The capital letters were illuminated so that the T's were broadswords, the V's kite-shaped shields, and the S's fiery dragons.
Burgundy felt great awe as she traced an inscription by a woman named Genevieve Betancourt, dated over two centuries ago. As Burgundy began to read, deciphering the Latin with ease, she realized the tale was a legend and also a great love story. It was fanciful and romantic, as all legends ought to be. Burgundy was swept away to another time and another place, totally caught up in the story as she turned page after page.
Between the sheets of parchment, she discovered a letter. It bore her name! Her hand trembled as she picked it up and realized it was written to her by her mother.
My precious Burgundy:
How do I convey what is in my heart in one short letter? I want you to know that from the moment I conceived you, you became the most important thing in my life. I hope you will forgive me. Because of the choices I made, you must suffer.
From the beginning I realized that you would need a special guardian angel and have prayed for months that God would not turn his face from me.
Though we will never see one another, I have passed on the only legacy I have. I am entrusting this book to Nan Greenwood for when you are old enough to understand its powerful message. When the time comes, you too must pass it on.
I have written to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, begging her to educate you, knowing you will received the finest education in the world. I hope she forgives me, I hope my parents forgive me, and also the Mountjoys, but most of all, I hope you forgive me.
I beg you not to grieve over my death. I am content because God has answered my prayer to give you a special guardian angel. He has chosen me. Know that I shall love you forever.
Jane Lynton Bedford
The words blurred together as Burgundy wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mother's presence in the chamber was a tangible thing, as if she reached out to put loving arms about her.
She read and reread the letter, tracing the words with her fingertips, so grateful to have her mother's last precious thoughts.
Burgundy tucked it beneath her pillow and readied herself for bed. Then she again took up the book, reading with new insight. Gradually, as time melted away, she began to feel as one with all the women who had gone before. She turned the page and read:
The Quest:
You alone decide your Destiny.
At the crossroads, choose wisely,
One path is cursed, the other blessed.
Life is a double-edged sword.
You have free will to carve out the rock!
Will you rise or fall, succeed or fail,
Taste ambrosia or bitter aloes?
To find the key, ask what is neverending, everlasting;
What is noble and sacred, selfless and eternal?
The answer is Love.
Love is the greatest power on earth.
Pass on the gift of Love.
With Honor Comes Glory!