This Heart of Mine (10 page)

Because Velvet was the youngest and the newest of the queen’s Maids, the simplest of tasks was assigned to her. It was her duty to see that the many-colored silks in the queen’s workbasket were always in perfect order, untangled, and free of knots, the colors lined up as neatly as the colors in a rainbow. She had to be sure that the queen had the proper needles and that her cutting tools were sharpened. When Elizabeth Tudor wished to work on her tapestries or to embroider, the workbasket was quickly fetched by the heiress of Lundy, who was now totally responsible for it as once her Aunt Aiden had been when she was at court.

The pace of court life was quicker than she was used to, and Velvet was grateful for the friendship of Bess and Angel. She would have felt quite alone without them, for the other Maids of Honor were not as willing to be friendly. Some had great names but small funds to support them. Others of both wealthy and titled families were nowhere near as lovely as Velvet. Most were jealous of her.

“The queen’s godchildren are a ha’penny a baker’s dozen,” said one high-born lady sneeringly.

“And most are of no account,” put in another girl. “The queen is chosen by the parents in hopes of currying favor for an otherwise undistinguished child.”

Velvet felt her cheeks burn with the insult. Her instinct was to fly at the girl and scratch her eyes from her ugly face, but feeling Bess Throckmorton’s warning gaze upon her she held her temper.

“It is true that my mother’s family were only humble Irish chieftains,

but my father, whose ancient name I bear, is a nobleman. My sister, Willow, is the Countess of Alcester; my brother, Robin, the Earl of Lynmouth; my sister, Deirdre, Lady Blackthorn; my brother, Padraic, Lord Burke, of whom you all seem so fond.” She glanced demurely at them. “Padraic certainly speaks well of all of you,” she finished, and then bent to her task again.

Bess Throckmorton stifled a giggle and sent her protégée an approving look. Velvet had neatly put them all in their place, without even raising her voice.

“Your brothers are Robert Southwood and Padraic Burke?” demanded one young woman.

“Aye.”

“Lord Burke of
Clearfields Manor
and Robert Southwood, the Earl of Lynmouth?”

“Aye.”

There was a long silence as this piece of information was digested by the queen’s Maids. Finally the girl who had spoken said, “We are going to
Lynmouth Castle
shortly.”

“Are we?” Velvet replied. “Oh, it’s so lovely in the summer. I do love Devon, don’t you?”

“Your brother is a widower still?”

“Aye,” said Velvet. “He felt very badly about Alison dying during her last lying-in. He swears he’ll not remarry ever, but I think it’s just a matter of meeting the right lady.” Then Velvet turned her smile on those about her, a smile of such bland innocence that none would suspect the wicked thoughts that danced about her head as she gazed upon her companions of these last few weeks. What vain and shallow creatures they were for the most part. They would, she had not a doubt, begin a not-so-subtle currying of her friendship now that they knew she was the sister of two eligible gentlemen of wealth and land.

As she studied the other Maids of Honor from beneath her long lashes, Velvet decided that neither Robin nor Padraic would find even good sport among the queen’s maidens. Bess was the best of them all, and of late Velvet had begun to suspect that her friend’s heart was engaged by Sir Walter Ralegh, though neither Bess nor Wat showed the slightest interest in each other publicly.

The court left
Blackthorn Priory
and traveled south again toward London. The Spanish threat to English security was said to be most serious this year, and it was rumored that a large fleet was being assembled to attack England. The queen’s councillors had insisted that she return to London where she might be properly protected, so the summer progress came to an abrupt halt.

The Earl of Lynmouth, upon learning that his royal guest would
not be visiting Devon after all, raised a troop of men for her defense and came up to London to entertain her in his beautiful home, Lynmouth House, which was located on the Strand.

Velvet, hearing that her brother had arrived in London, begged time off from her duties so that she might go to see Robin. She was going to need all the allies she could get in the matter of her betrothal. She had no doubt that both Dame Cecily and Deirdre had already written to him.

Dressed soberly in black and white, the queen’s colors, she hailed a common wherry from the landing of Whitehall Palace and was easily transported to Lynmouth House, which also sat on a bank of the river. A Southwood servant was there to help her from the little cockleshell and to pay the wherryman. Velvet hurried up through the vast gardens to the house and, seeing her brother on the terrace, called to him.

“Robin!”

Robert Southwood, the Earl of Lynmouth, looked up, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. He was dressed casually, his silk shirt open to reveal a smooth expanse of chest. His lime-green eyes took in her long silk cloak of alternating black and white stripes with silver frog fastenings studded with black agates. The open cloak blew in the light breeze to show off her very fashionable gown of white silk with its silver lace ruff. The youngest of his mother’s children, she was, next to his older sister, Willow, his favorite.

“Hallo, you minx!” he said, giving her a hug and a kiss.

“Oh, Robin, not you too?” Velvet wailed. “Are you going to lecture me also? Why doesn’t anyone understand
my
point of view in this matter?”

The earl put an arm about his little sister and led her to a nearby bench beneath a late-flowering apple tree, where they both sat down.

“Suppose you tell me your side of the tangle you’ve woven, and then I shall judge whether or not to scold you. I have had two very frantic letters, one from Dame Cecily and the other from our Burke sister.”

“I didn’t know that I was betrothed,” said Velvet miserably. “Then this letter came from Scotland from an earl.”

“The Earl of BrocCairn,” supplied Robin.

“Oh, yes, BrocCairn. It’s such a funny name, I keep forgetting it. It was then that Uncle Conn told me of the betrothal, and he said that although the wedding wasn’t supposed to be celebrated until after my sixteenth birthday, the earl suddenly found himself the only male in his direct line, and needed to marry now and beget heirs.”

“Those things can happen, Velvet. It is not an unusual occurrence, and I can see BrocCairn’s point.”

“Robin, until a month ago I didn’t even know that I was promised to this stranger! I don’t want to go off to Scotland without knowing this man, and I am most certainly not ready to beget his heirs! I won’t marry without love! That much our mother promised me, Robin. And I won’t marry without my parents by my side when I finally decide to do so!”

“Couldn’t you have told the earl this, my sister? He cannot be totally insensitive to a young girl’s fears. I am sure he would have acceded to your request to wait until our mother and Adam return in a few months’ time.”

“Uncle Conn did not seem to think so, Robin, and what if I had waited to ask him and this earl refused me? By law I would have had to marry him. By becoming one of the queen’s Maids of Honor I am protected until our mother returns. It is not so terrible a thing I’ve done, my lord brother. This Earl of BrocCairn can hardly be offended that his betrothed wife is one of the queen’s honored maidens.”

Robin shook his head. “You’re far too clever for a maiden, Velvet,” he said. He grinned at her. “ ’Tis just the sort of thing our mother would have done when she was a girl, but never say I told you so! Tell me now, how do you like the court?”

“It’s the most exciting place I’ve ever been, Robin! I never thought I could exist on so little sleep and so much hurly-burly, but I can, and I do! I have two best friends now. One is Bess Throckmorton, and she has been ever so kind to me, Robin. Not like all the others who are, for the most part, proud as peahens and very shallow. They wanted nothing to do with me until they discovered I had two very wealthy and eligible brothers.”

He smiled at her enthusiasm. “And who is your other friend?”

“Her name is Angel Christman, and she is absolutely beautiful, Robin! She’s a royal ward and as poor as a church mouse, as she puts it, but she, too, is ever so nice. When Bess and I can get away from our duties, we go with Angel, Wat, and Scamp into the city. I have been to the theater, Robin!”

He smiled again. “What play did you see performed?”

“It’s a new one, called
Tamburlaine the Great
, by Master Christopher Marlowe. Wat says he is the finest playwright England has ever seen.”

“Indeed,” replied Robin, “and just who is this Wat who is such an authority on our drama?”

“Why, Sir Walter Ralegh, Robin. I think he is in love with Bess, although neither one of them ever dares to look at the other in
the queen’s presence. Scamp says the queen would clap them both in the Tower if she suspected there was anything between them.”

“Again you mystify me, little sister,” said Robin. “You have twice referred to ‘Scamp,’ but I know not who you mean.”

“The Earl of Essex, Robin. Everyone else calls him by your name, but I told him I would not, for there is only one Robin in my life.”

Robert Southwood stiffened. The Earl of Essex had a reputation for womanizing similar to that of his stepfather, the Earl of Leicester. Robin knew how that gentleman had so sorely tried his mother after his father, Geoffrey Southwood, had died. “So, Velvet,” he said, in what he hoped passed for a calm voice, “you have become friends with Essex, have you?”

“He’s so very nice,” she replied. “He says I am like his sister, Dorothy, and he and Wat warned all the gentlemen of the court that they were not to trifle with me. Oh, Robin! We have such good times together, Wat and Scamp, Bess and Angel, and me!”

“Then he has not been forward with you, Velvet?”

“Who?”

“Essex.”

“No.” She laughed. “He is far too busy courting the queen’s favor to bother with me. Frankly, I’m rather disappointed, for I think I should like him to kiss me. One should always be kissed for the first time by someone one likes, don’t you think?” She cocked her head at her brother.

“Yes,” Robin answered his sister quietly, charmed by her genuine innocence and yet at the same time worried for her. How could their mother and Adam have raised her so unaware of the world? He stood up and, taking her hand, raised her to her feet. “Let’s go into the house, Velvet. You have not seen Lynmouth House, never having been to London before. I want you to familiarize yourself with it, for you are to be my hostess when the queen comes in a few days’ time.”

“
I
am to be your hostess?
Oh, Robin! I assumed that you would ask Willow.”

“I would have, except that my charming youngest sister has just arrived in London and, being newly fledged, should have the experience of hostessing a large party for royalty. You may be called on to entertain King James one day, Velvet.”

A small cloud of annoyance passed over Velvet’s beautiful face, but its passage was so swift that he did not notice it at all.

“It’s not certain that I will marry that Scot, Robin. Remember our mother’s promise.”

“I remember it, Velvet, but you must not be so unkind as to
judge the Earl of BrocCairn before you have met him,
and
before you have had the opportunity to know him. You are now safe as a Maid of Honor, at least until your parents return home in a few months. You have won the first skirmish. Be generous in your victory, little sister.”

R
obert Geoffrey James Henry Southwood, the Earl of Lynmouth, had held his title since before his third birthday. He had no real memory of the father whom he so startlingly resembled. By choice, he had gone to court at the age of six to be a personal page to Her Majesty, the queen, and he had taken to court life with an ease that was his birthright. When he was sixteen his mother had sent him to study at Oxford University. When he was eighteen he had been sent to the Sorbonne, and from there he had traveled throughout Europe. It was at the Sorbonne that he had met Alexander Gordon, the heir to the Scottish earldom of BrocCairn.

Alex was three years older than the blond English earl, but the two had taken to each other like long-lost brothers. They decided to pool their resources and share living quarters. Even that hadn’t spoiled their friendship. They studied together, drank together, and even wenched together; sometimes, when their funds were low, they shared the same pretty whore who, far from being offended at being paid only once, was ecstatic at having two such virile lovers. Alex and Robin had known each other for well over a year when the matter of marriage came up.

Robin had explained to his friend that he had been betrothed since childhood to the daughter of a friend of the family, and when he finally returned home he would marry her. Alex admitted to a similar situation, but explained that the lass involved was younger than he by thirteen years, and the agreement between them did not allow him to wed her until she was sixteen. Still, he said, he was in no hurry to settle down. Mistress Velvet de Marisco could take her time growing up as far as he was concerned.