In Doublet and Hose: A Story for Girls

In Doublet and Hose: A Story for Girls

Lucy Foster Madison

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In Doublet and Hose: A Story for Girls by Lucy Foster Madison

Chapter 1 PAGE

I A Question of Skill 7

II The Soldier Guest 17

III The Page's Dress 27

IV Anthony Babington 37

V On the Road to Stafford 48

VI A Glimpse of Mary 56

VII Francis to the Front 66

VIII The Delivery of the Letters 75

IX The Coming of Elizabeth 90

X The Queen Takes Offense 101

XI At the Queen's Command 111

XII The Favor of Princes 121

XIII A Familiar Face and a Challenge 137

XIV A Strange Duel 149

XV The Strange Weakness of Francis Stafford 160

XVI What Came of an Offer of Friendship 171

XVII What Francis Overheard 182

XVIII An Adventure 4 192

XIX A Shelter from the Storm 203

XX Francis Finds a Helper 213

XXI An Unlooked for Reception 223

XXII As It Fell Out 229

XXIII In the Tower of London 238

XXIV A Friend in Need 250

XXV A Great Sorrow Befalls Francis 260

XXVI A Fellow Prisoner 272

XXVII The Escape 284

XXVIII The Three Volunteers 297

XXIX A Britomarte of the Armada 304

XXX Pardon And Happiness 321

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Illustrations

PAGE

"Methinks the Maid will Serve our Purpose Well!" frontispiece

Queen Mary's Wit Grasped the Situation 77

Elizabeth Extended her Hand Graciously 107

The Two were Deep in the Mysteries of Fencing 156

She Gave a Faint Gasp 190

"I Will Not Tell, Sir Francis" 248

"Pull, Pull for Your Life!" 318

* * *

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I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

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