“I want to go home,” she whispered aloud. But she could not. She would go to court, embrace the queen, and thank her for her generosity in inviting her. She would be a diversion for Katherine for a few days, and then the queen’s interests would turn in another direction. And Rosamund would remain, an outsider, alone, until she might beg leave to return home again, where, hopefully, she would be forgotten by the queen and could live the rest of her life in peace.
It was getting dark, and a slight wind had begun to come off the river. The tide was going out, and the visible mudflats stank of rot. Arising, she walked slowly back to the house and upstairs to her apartments again. The house was quiet, and she saw no one until she entered her own rooms. Annie hurried forward to take her cloak and her gloves.
“Gracious, m’lady, I was thinking I must go and fetch you,” Annie said. “Come and sit by the fire.”
“The garden is beautiful,” Rosamund told Annie. “In summer with all its color, and I suspect that my cousin has lots of color, it must be quite striking.” She looked toward the windows. “ ’Tis dark already. I love all the feasts in December, but I hate the short days.”
“Go and rest,” Annie said. “I’ll have a bath set up. The hot water will take the chill of the afternoon from your bones. Then we’ll toast a bit of bread and cheese on the fire. His lordship ain’t back yet, but who knows what tomorrow will bring?”
Rosamund dozed, and the bath was brought again. While she soaked, her long hair pinned atop her head, Annie went down to the kitchens to fetch the food. The hot water felt marvelous, taking the deep chill from her body. She sighed, relaxed, even as the door to the dayroom flew open and Lord Cambridge strode into the room.
“Cousin!” he greeted her gaily.
Rosamund gave a small shriek of surprise, and wondered if any of her person was visible other than her neck and shoulders.
He waved her concern aside. “Nothing vital is showing, dear girl. Besides, the bumps and curves of womankind are of no interest to me at all. Fashionable women receive callers in their bath.”
“I shall never be
that
fashionable,” Rosamund told him, “and from the statues in your garden, cousin, I would suspect that female flesh is indeed not of interest to you, particularly in light of what you have told me about yourself. Still, I have never entertained a caller not my husband in my bath.”
“So you and Sir Owein bathed together.” He chuckled. Then he grew serious. “I managed to get in to speak with her highness, the queen, late this afternoon. She will receive you tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock, dear girl. I have told her that you will make your home with me while you are here in London. She is anxious to see you, and happy that you will be here to spend the Christmas season with her. The court is moving to Richmond in a few days. Don’t fret. It’s nearby,” he smiled. “We will have Doll to help your Annie. Doll is a marvel with hair, and you cannot go to court with that charming plait you wear each day. You must have a more elegant and sophisticated style, dear Rosamund, if you don’t want to be laughed at. Well, I shall leave you to your bath. I am positively fatigued. The court is overflowing with people, for the king enjoys making most merry and is generous with his father’s wealth. I wonder if the last Henry Tudor considered that his son would spend that which he so carefully hoarded.” He chuckled, blew her a kiss, and was gone from the apartment as quickly as he had come.
“Was that his lordship?” Annie asked, shocked, as she returned with a tray.
“It was,” Rosamund said, rising from her tub and reaching for the towel on the warming rack. “He says fashionable ladies receive gentlemen in their tubs.” Rosamund laughed.
“ ’Tis mad, he is,” Annie said, a scandalized look on her pretty face.
“We’re going to court tomorrow afternoon,” Rosamund told her
servant. She dried herself off thoroughly and slipped her smock back on as she sat down.
“Your gown is ready,” Annie said. “Doll and me sewed the pearls on it today while you was asleep, m’lady.”
“Pearls?”
Rosamund looked confused. “What pearls?”
“His lordship gave me a beautiful length of ribbon, all decorated with little pearls, and said to sew ’em on the neckline of the gown. They do look lovely, m’lady, and Doll says they give the dress real style.”
Rosamund laughed. Her cousin was determined that she make a good impression at court. “Remind me to thank his lordship tomorrow,” she told Annie. “Now, let us have our bread and cheese. All that air out in the garden has given me a good appetite.”
Annie had brought not only bread and cheese but sausage, as well, and another dish of the delicious baked apples that Rosamund had had earlier. They toasted the bread over the fire, melting the cheese atop it and adding the sausage. Mistress and servant ate together before the fire. Rosamund let Annie have some watered wine, for the girl was not used to wine. She, however, drank her wine unwatered. It was ruby in color, and sweet to her taste. She shared her apples with Annie, and when the servant took the tray back to the kitchens, Rosamund sat by the fire, thinking again. She felt better than she had this afternoon at the river. Her cousin Tom always seemed to cheer her with his presence. She considered that Owein had been a wee lad of six when he joined the Tudor household. He had survived. Indeed he had thrived. She knew she would, too.
What a stay-by-the-fire I am.
It was time she came out of herself, and there were so many opportunities for her at court. She might even find possible matches for her girls. She didn’t want them having to choose between Uncle Henry’s family or some wild Scots borderer like Logan Hepburn.
Now how had
he
slipped into her thoughts? Rosamund wondered. Yet for a minute she saw unruly black hair and those blue-blue eyes of his. What was he doing now? Was he snug in his hall at Claven’s Carn? Or was he out beneath a border moon raiding some hapless neighbor. She shook her head impatiently.
Begone!
she shouted silently at the mocking
smile in her head, the echo of his voice. She started suddenly. She could have sworn that she had heard his voice, and yet now as she strained to listen the house was very silent.
I must go to bed,
Rosamund told herself. The journey had indeed been too much for her. She should not have thought it, for she had always been a strong girl. Without even waiting for Annie to return she climbed into her bed and was quickly asleep.
She awoke to a sunny morning. Annie brought her breakfast, and then she bathed her hands and face and scrubbed her teeth with her little boars bristle brush. Now she was ready to begin getting dressed, for it would take some time, and then there was the trip down the river to London. The Thames was a tidal river, and they must travel at a certain time in order to get there easily. It would not matter if they arrived at Westminster long prior to her audience with the queen. What was important was that she not keep her patroness waiting. She sat patiently as both Annie and Doll fitted her soft knit wool stockings over her foot and up her leg. Then to her surprise they rolled a second pair of stockings atop the first. These were black silk, embroidered with gold thread leaves and vines.
“His lordship?” she asked Annie.
“Aye. He says the wool are to keep you warm, for the river will be cold and so will the palace. The silk are for elegance. Even if no one can see them, you will know you are one of the most fashionable women with the queen,” Annie explained, her explanation obviously a parrot of what Sir Thomas Bolton had told her when he gave her the silk stockings for her mistress.
“How kind of cousin Tom,” Rosamund said, a small smile on her lips as the two servants affixed garters fashioned of golden ribbons with pearl-studded rosettes around her thighs to hold up her stockings. She had never owned anything so pretty, and she would enjoy them.
Rosamund stood up now, and her smock was removed to be replaced by a chemise of fine linen that would show just a scrap of ruffle above the gown’s neckline.
“Sit down, my lady,” Doll said. “The master has instructed me as to how he wants your hair fashioned today.” She picked up the pearwood brush and began to undo the plait and brush it out. Rosamund’s long hair
was thick and straight. It shone with just the hint of golden lights. “You watch me, Annie,” she said, “and you can learn how to do this style. It will be very flattering for our mistress.” She parted Rosamund’s hair in the middle, and then working quickly, she fashioned it into a chignon, pinning it securely at the nape of her neck. “There now,” she said, “and doesn’t that look grand!”
Rosamund looked at herself in the glass that Annie held up. A woman she just barely recognized looked back at her. “Oh, my,” she said softly.
“It’s real different, m’lady,” Doll said. “French, in style, it is, and new to this country. Most of the queen’s ladies wear their hair old-fashioned and long beneath their headdress, although I’m told some of the older women pin up their hair like washerwomen.”
“It’s beautiful, Doll, and I thank you,” Rosamund told the girl. It was a pity, she thought, that the elegant style would scarce be seen through her veil. Still, she suddenly felt very confident.
Carefully the two servants helped Rosamund step into her skirts, and then they drew them up, tying them at the waist. Next came the bodice and sleeves. The black brocade was very beautiful with its delicate gold embroidery. The addition of the small pearls at the square neckline and on the wide cuff of the sleeves had turned a pretty gown into a splendid garment. Her cousin had a good eye for fashion. Finally everything was tied and laced and taped. The skirt on its narrow hoop took a bit of getting used to, but she quickly found it was manageable. She sat again, and Annie affixed her pearls with the gold and pearl cross about her neck. She then handed Rosamund the pearl broach that her cousin had given her. It was affixed to the center of her neckline. Her wedding band and her garnet ring were the two adornments she chose for her hands.
When Doll saw them she said, “Oh, his lordship said this is to go with the broach, my lady.” She drew a small box from her gown and handed it to Rosamund.
“How wonderful!” Rosamund was delighted as the open box displayed a large baroque pearl ring. She slipped it on her finger, admiring it and realizing that it was suddenly very easy to accept beautiful gifts from her
goodnatured cousin. She knew little about Tom Bolton, but for his bloodline. “Does his lordship have any brothers or sisters?” she queried Doll.
“Aye,” Doll answered. “He had a younger sister. Much younger. His lordship don’t look it, but he is forty this year. He was fifteen when his sister was born. He adored her from the moment of her birth. She died five years ago in childbed, and her youngling with her. She was twenty. He never seemed to get over it until he brought you to London, my lady. We’re all so glad to see his lordship happy again. He’s an odd gentleman, but a kind and generous master.”
“Aye,” Rosamund agreed. “He is kind and generous.” She slipped her feet into the shoes that Annie placed before her. “Doll, I cannot take you with me to court this time, but I promise I shall another day. And I thank you for your good service to me.”
“ ’Tis a pleasure to serve you, my lady,” Doll answered her. Then she carefully set the sheer lawn veil and the little English cap on Rosamund’s auburn head. “Annie has your cloak and gloves, and you’re ready to go, my lady.”
Rosamund stood up. “Do not cover me with the cloak until my cousin has seen our efforts,” she said. Then she walked from her apartment with Annie carrying her outdoor garment and gloves in her wake.
Watching her descend the staircase Sir Thomas Bolton thought his cousin Rosamund most elegant. He kissed her hand as she reached the bottom, and said to her, “You are as fashionable as any lady at court will be today, my dear girl.”
“I thank you for the ring, Tom. Was it your sister’s?”
“Aye,” he nodded. “I thought how well it would suit you.”
“What was her name?” Rosamund asked him as Annie slipped her fur-lined and -trimmed cloak about her shoulders.
“Mary,” he said. “ ’Twas a simple name, but she was born on May Day, and my mother would have it no other way than her daughter be called for the Blessed Mother. But I called her May for she was the very essence of that month. Bright and warm and full of fun. Like you, dear girl, she accepted me for who I was. I shall always miss May. She was the light of my life, but you, now, dearest Rosamund, have made your own place in my heart.”
“My birth date is April thirtieth,” Rosamund said. “And my eldest daughter, Philippa, was born on the twenty-ninth of April.”
“Ah, then you are Taurus,” he told her. “As my sister was. I am a Scorpio, the opposite of Taurus.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Rosamund asked him as he escorted her down through his garden to the dock where his barge was awaiting them.
“You have never heard of astrology? The science of the stars? My dearest darling girl, I have the most wonderful man! We shall have your chart drawn while you are at court. Many do nothing without the advice of their astrologer. I simply prefer a yearly overview.” He helped her into the vessel. “I shall explain all to you as we go to Westminster.” He settled himself next to her and drew a fur robe over their laps. Then he waved his hand at the bargemen, and they pulled away from the dock at Bolton House and headed down the river to London.
T
he late morning was chilly, but the sun sparkled on the river.
“There is Richmond,” Lord Cambridge said as they passed the great palace. “You see how near it is to Bolton House? I have a house near Greenwich as well. I purchased a charming little vessel for you while I was in London yesterday,” he chattered on. “And I have hired two men to row you. What color should we make their livery, and do you have a motto that we may design on their badges?”
“Friarsgate blue and silver,” Rosamund answered him promptly, “and the motto of the Friarsgate Boltons is
Tracez Votre Chemin.
”
“Oh, I do like your motto,” her companion enthused. “I shall have a broach designed for you with those very words. Our Boltons chose
Service Tourjours.
It is so uninspired. Blue and silver, eh? Very stylish, my dear. Everyone is changing to Tudor green these days, which is really quite boring. It makes it impossible to see whose servants are at court, unless one can get close enough to peer at the badges. And, that, of course, is in the worst possible taste.”
“I dislike putting you to such expense, cousin,” Rosamund said. “Is it really necessary? You have already been too good to me.”
“I have always meant to have a second little barge for guests, dearest girl. Your arrival has but caused me to act.” He smiled and patted her hand. “Having your own wee vessel will allow you to escape the palace when you are not needed by the queen.”
“I will admit to still being nervous about having been called to court,” Rosamund told him. “I do not belong here.”
“But here you are, Rosamund,” he said. “Listen, darling girl, and while we skim our way downriver I will tell you why you will be a breath of fresh air for the queen. You know that she lost a child at the end of January past. However, it was worse than that. Those overprotective fools who surround her were afraid to tell the king that the queen had miscarried of a daughter. So they continued to allow the queen to believe she was with child. And she blew up like a sheep’s bladder that is filled with air.”
“But how could she not realize she was no longer with child?” Rosamund asked, shocked.
“Because, dear girl, she is a Spanish princess and has been sheltered from common sense, among other virtues. Well, it did not take the king long to realize what had happened, for the swelling disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The queen was devastated and thought she had somehow failed her husband. It was he who convinced her that it was God’s will. Then he quickly impregnated her once again.”
“The queen is with child?” Rosamund was astounded.
“Why, yes, dear girl. You did not know?” He was equally surprised. “Why, the child is due at the beginning of the month of January. Yesterday was the last day the queen was receiving gentlemen in her chambers, which was why it was so important that I get to her. She will go into seclusion now until her child is born, and be served only by women. Her ladies take over all the positions normally held by men in order that the queen’s household continue to run smoothly. How could you not know this happy news? But then with the confusion over the miscarriage, it is possible, and your Friarsgate is very isolated. But that is not all the gossip, dear girl.
“There was a most delicious scandal early this autumn. The queen learned that the king was having an affair with the sister of the Duke of Buckingham. But which of his sisters, for he has two, and both were serving the queen, no one is certain. Lady Anne Hastings is currently residing in a convent some sixty miles from London, contemplating her sins, whatever they may be. Her sister, Lady Elizabeth FitzWalter is also gone from the court, taken away in the black of night, it is said. And their
husbands are banned as well. It seems the more chaste sister, whoever she was, spoke with her brother, the duke. She thought the other sister was involved with the king’s boon companion, William Compton. Buckingham is a terrible snob, and the Comptons are hardly the social equals of the Stafford family. Compton, however, was acting as a shield for the king. The lovers were using his house for their illicit trysts! The Duke of Buckingham was furious that his sister should demean herself in such a manner with who he believed was a man of lesser status. A family conference was convened. Worse, the innocent sister tattled to the queen, who then berated the king for his behavior in a very loud argument, which, though it took place in her privy chamber, was heard by half the court, who then reported it to the other half.
“Well, dear girl, one does not take Henry Tudor to task for his behavior. He is the king. He will do as he pleases, as those of us who know him understand. Besides, all kings have mistresses. Why the queen’s own father, King Ferdinand, had several, and was known to have sired a number of bastards. And King Henry was certainly being discreet. His little indiscretion would never have been known had not the duke’s sister spilled the beans.” Lord Cambridge chuckled wickedly. Rosamund sat in stunned fascination.
“The duke is a dreadful snob,” her cousin went on. “Of course he did not think Will Compton socially acceptable as a lover for his sister. Or, if the truth be known, does not even think the House of Tudor is good enough. After he bearded Compton and raised riot with him, Compton, a longtime companion and confidant of the king’s, went directly to him. The king called the duke into his presence and raised merry hell with him. The upshot was that the duke left the court in a temper. I suspect the king was angry at his secret being made public. He is genuinely fond of the queen and dislikes having her distressed. And, that, darling girl, is what has happened to date.”
“Has the queen forgiven the king?” Rosamund asked him.
“There was nothing to forgive, for it is Henry Tudor’s right to do as he pleases, Rosamund. The queen has been quite rightly scolded, by not just her husband, but by her father and by her confessor. She is, after all, Queen of England. Nothing can change that, but she cannot expect her
husband to refrain from satisfying his manly appetites when she is with child and therefore forbidden to him. And he was discreet, but that she obviously suspected something of him, given his passionate nature. She set her women to spying on him. The king considered sending them all from court, but that it would have caused a dreadful scandal,” Lord Cambridge explained.
“Poor Kate,” Rosamund sympathized.
“She is a good woman, if naïve in some ways,” her companion replied. “No one who serves her dislikes her. They become quite fanatically loyal, but these ladies must remember that their first loyalty lies with the king, not the queen. I hope, dear cousin, that while you serve the queen you will remember that.” He patted her gloved hand.
“But all is well between the king and his spouse?” Rosamund asked. “They are now reconciled?”
“Aye, but it will never again be the same between them. The queen has been forced to face the fact that the honeymoon is long over. She must accept what she cannot change, and she will never change the king. He, while annoyed yet, has forgiven her. He believes that she will never again remonstrate with him for his peccadilloes, especially as she is unlikely to know of them. The queen’s women have learned their lesson, it is to be hoped, and will not impart gossip regarding the king’s amorous nature to their mistress in the future.”
“I think now more than before that I wish I was home,” Rosamund said with a small smile. “I do not know if I am up to all this intrigue.”
He chuckled. “I will be here for you, dear girl, and you can always escape to Bolton House.”
About them the river traffic was busier than it had been earlier. They were approaching the city itself. Great flat-bottomed boats ferrying cargo from ships moored in the London pool downriver appeared. Smaller barges with farm produce passed them by. Fishing vessels and other passenger barges surrounded them. The spires and turrets of Westminster loomed to one side of the river as their barge began to nose itself shoreward. Annie’s eyes were wide, and her ears were burning with all she had heard. Realizing it, Lord Cambridge cautioned her to keep her own council.
“Do not gossip with the other servant girls, but rather be pleasing in manner, helpful, devout, and keep your own ears open so you may report to your own mistress anything of interest. If you appear slightly stupid and countrified you will be considered unimportant and other servants will gossip in your hearing. Do you understand, Annie?”
“Aye, m’lord. I will be careful, for I
am
but a simple country girl just like my mistress,” she replied, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
Lord Cambridge chuckled again. “Why, my girl, you are far more clever than I would have anticipated. You may prove very useful to your mistress.” And he gave her a wink.
Their barge bumped against the stone quay as a palace servant swiftly made the vessel secure so that its occupants might disembark. Lord Cambridge was helped out first, then waited while Rosamund and Annie stepped upon the dock. Without a word he turned and hurried off into the palace, the two young women swiftly following behind him. Rosamund vaguely recalled landing here years back with Meg and Kate and the rest of the royal family. Some of the interior seemed familiar to her as she trailed behind her cousin. Then they came to a large double door with the royal crest upon it. On either side of the doors stood a young woman in red velvet skirts, a leather breastplate gilded in gold leaf, wearing a small helmet and carrying a pike. Their pikes crossed in defense as Lord Cambridge and his party approached.
“Lady Rosamund of Friarsgate, widow of Sir Owein Meredith, and her servant, at the queen’s invitation,” Sir Thomas said.
“She may pass, and her servant as well,” one of the female guards said. They uncrossed their pikes, and one of them flung wide one of the doors.
“Farewell, cousin,” Lord Cambridge said, kissing Rosamund upon her brow. “If you need me, you may send a page for me. If I am not here, I will be at Bolton House.” He then turned and departed down the corridor.
Rosamund, Annie in her wake, slowly entered the queen’s apartment. It was filled with women, and it would appear that she knew none of them. She wasn’t even certain of the proper protocol to gaining the queen’s attention. She stood confused, and then a sweet-faced woman approached her, smiling.
“Lady Rosamund, you may not remember me. I am Maria de Salinas. My mistress bids you welcome back to court. Will you come with me to greet her majesty?”
“Thank you,” Rosamund replied, and followed the queen’s favorite lady, and her best friend, who had come with her from Spain and who had remained with her devotedly through all the years of her difficulty.
They passed through the main receiving room of the queen’s apartments and into the queen’s privy chamber where Katherine lay sprawled gracefully upon an upholstered settee. Her belly was greatly distended. The queen’s eyes lit up as Rosamund approached, and she held out her beringed hand in greeting, a smile on her lips.
Rosamund caught up the queen’s hand and kissed it, curtsying as she did so. Behind her Annie curtsied as well.
“My friend,” the queen said in her accented English. “How good it is to see you once again! I am happy to have you here. Especially now. I have assigned you a chore, Rosamund of Friarsgate. I do not forget how beautiful your hand was when you wrote me. You will write my correspondence for me while my secretaries are forbidden my presence. I allow no idleness among my women.”
“I am honored to serve you, your majesty,” Rosamund replied.
“You are making your home at Bolton House?” the queen asked.
Rosamund nodded. “My cousin Tom is a kind and generous fellow, your majesty. I cannot remember ever being treated so well.”
“You will have a pallet here in my apartments while you are with me and on duty,” the queen explained. “And you will take your turn sleeping in my chamber on the trundle. Your servant is permitted to go in and out of my apartments and the palace, to fetch whatever you may need. We are all removing to Richmond in another day, I am glad to say. I realize you know none of my ladies, so you may want to go into the dayroom and be introduced.”
She was dismissed. Rosamund curtsied once again and backed from the room, Annie behind her, wide-eyed and practically speechless. The queen had eight ladies-in-waiting. There were seven countesses among them. The wives of the Earls of Suffolk, Oxford, Surrey, Essex, Shrewsbury,
Derby, and Salisbury, as well as Lady Guildford, the mother of two of the king’s jousting partners. The queen had thirty maids-of-honor and among them some of the most illustrious names in England, but also Maria de Salinas and her sister Inez. It was Inez who introduced Rosamund to these women. The queen’s ladies were pleasant, but there was no great warmth in their welcome, and Rosamund once again felt out of place.
“Do not pay any attention to them,” Inez de Salinas said softly. Her brown eyes were understanding and sympathetic. “They are all much taken with themselves and spend their days, when they are not in the queen’s presence, comparing their pedigrees. They enjoy being superior to one another.”
“I am hardly superior to anyone,” Rosamund said matter-of-factly.
Inez laughed. “Actually your presence acts to prick their consciences,” she explained. “The queen has not been shy about telling them how you were her champion from your manor in faraway Cumbria. How your kindness often meant the difference between poverty and complete penury for her. They felt guilty because any of them might have helped her, but they were all so afraid of doing the wrong thing, of offending the old king, of embarrassing their families, that they ignored my poor mistress and left her to her tribulations.