I still winced every time I recalled the hiss of the willow branch as our mother cut bloody stripes into Jane’s back. I trembled to think how dark the wickedness must be to make Jane defy our parents’ will. “They have sold me to the devil, Mary.” Her words scraped into my memory. Jane, only fifteen, who cried when her lessons were over and kind Dr. Now he was coming to steal Jane away.įor two weeks my eldest sister wept into her bolster at night. His eyes seemed as if they could cut stone.įrom the time I could remember, I heard people whispering that Satan had twisted me into a hunchbacked dwarf. The stranger sank into Father’s best chair, his shoulders weighted with gold chains of office. My father did not reprimand him before entering with his guest. The tramp of boots sounded in the hall, and I caught my breath.
What would happen if my father discovered me? He would beat me.
I could see the table clearly from there, though I hoped no one would be able to see me.
I slipped through Father’s door, then stole into the space between the wall and the tapestry of blind Saint Lucy holding her eyeballs upon a plate. I had heard my father ordering servants to lay his dice upon the gaming table in his privy chamber. From the nursery window I had seen the devil ride through the gates, the bear and ragged staff on his banner visible in the light of the torches his guards carried. Most of Suffolk House slept-exhausted from the preparations for the greatest wedding England had seen since the dead king Henry took the last of his six wives. I ducked behind a heavy chest, but a moment later the man’s soft snore sounded. I peered around a corner, saw a guard stationed outside my destination. Of late the voices in that secret spot shrilled that something wicked had come to steal my sister Jane away. I overheard more than anyone suspected, and I sensed what could not be seen, only felt in that ticklish place inside my head. They shrank away as if deformity could be catching, like sweating sickness or plague. Yet I had learned early that people avoided looking at me if they could. At any moment the guards might demand to know why the youngest daughter of the Duke of Suffolk wandered alone past midnight. I limped through Suffolk House like a gargoyle brought to life, clutching my dark bed gown under my chin so I might blend into shadow. Spying on the devil was a dangerous prospect, but if the whispers were true, he had visited me before.
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