If this letter were somehow intercepted, Rose figured people would be clueless, because of course every man in court wore a ruff. But Franny would know exactly who she was referring to.

I’d better stop scriving now, as there is much to do. I wish Princess Elizabeth could slip you into her trunk and bring you along. I miss you, Franny.

Love,

Rose

P.S. Here is some potion I’ve included for Princess Elizabeth. Can you see that it gets to her? Thanks a million!

As soon as the ink dried, she tucked the letter for Franny and the acne potion for Princess Elizabeth into the deep pocket of her black gown, then adjusted her French hood so that not a strand of hair was showing. The chamber that she and Sara shared was between the apartments of both the royal princesses. She left and turned into a corridor that took her to a wider hall called a gallery. She went through a door leading to a passageway that was connected to a back stairwell. She had just started down the steps when suddenly there was a terrible cackling noise. From a hidden door at the curve in the stairway, a figure jumped out. Rose yelped and almost tripped.

“Scared you, didn’t I?”

The bizarre character stepped out into a single shaft of sunlight that came through a high, narrow window. Her bald head glared like a full moon. One eye winked at Rose while the other, slightly bulged, seemed to jitter in every direction at once.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Rose gasped.

“Of course, Buttercups, I’m mad. Who else could imitate the cry of a Polish Frizzle?”

“A what?”

“Polish Frizzle chicken, dear heart.” Rose shivered. She didn’t like being called dear heart by this woman. “Introduced to our realm, fair England, by none other than Anne of Cleves. The ugliest of the king’s wives brought the prettiest chicken. But I can coo like a dove too.”

She immediately started cooing and began a little soft-shoe shuffle on the stone landing. “Taa da ta da . . . lad dee da at ya da da da ya dee dat.” She picked up the hem of her very elegant silk dress just a bit. Her shoes were bright pink and had feather tufts on them, as well as elaborate stitching. She might be crazy, but were those shoes fabulous or what? OMG, I’d die for those shoes! Jane noticed her attention.

“You like my shoes?”