This Heart of Mine (9 page)

In an effort to change the subject, Bess Throckmorton said, “The queen has asked us to accompany you to your home tomorrow so that we may aid you in packing what is necessary for court. Is it far?”

“Nay, just a few miles. Do you ride?”

“Aye,” both girls chorused.

“Good! Let’s start early then,” said Velvet enthusiastically.

“We shall accompany you,” Sir Walter promised. “Three maids riding alone is not wise.”

A contradiction sprang to Velvet’s lips, but then she considered how marvelous it would look to return to
Queen’s Malvern
in the company of two elegant gentlemen of the court. “Are you used to getting up so early?” she teased them gently.

“Getting up? We shan’t even go to bed, sweetheart! Sleep is something one catches when one can at court. You’ll get used to it.”

* * *

Dame Cecily, warned by a message from Deirdre of what Velvet had managed to gain from the queen, was waiting along with Velvet’s nursemaid, both wearing a disapproving frown as Velvet rode up to
Queen’s Malvern
in the company of the earl, Sir Walter, Bess, and Angel the next morning. Small and plump, Dame Cecily was a neat little soul, with sharp blue eyes and silvery curls. Still, she could be quite formidable and even now her foot tapped irritably.

“Your mama is going to be very angry at you, Velvet, and what are we to say to his lordship when he comes?” she scolded as the girl dismounted from her stallion.

“Nonsense, dearest Dame Cecily,” returned Velvet. “Remember, she promised me that I should not marry without love.”

“How can you know if you will love your betrothed or not if you are not here to get to know him? You were well aware of his impending arrival when you left for your sister’s home. Now I hear of this business of going to court as a Maid of Honor!” Having helped to raise Velvet, as well as most of her siblings, Dame Cecily was looked upon as a grandmother by Skye’s children. That, she felt, gave her the right to speak out and to interfere where she thought necessary.

“I could scarcely refuse the queen,” said Velvet innocently.

“You
asked
the queen for it, and well I know it!” came the sharp reply. “You are a wicked lass, and your papa should have taken a switch to your bottom from the beginning. But no! Adam de Marisco simply dotes upon you, and look where it has led us!”

While she fussed on, Velvet’s companions listened with interest until suddenly, realizing their presence, the old lady stopped in midsentence.

Velvet sweetly introduced them in a sugary voice. “The Earl of Essex, Sir Walter Ralegh, Mistress Bess Throckmorton, and Mistress Angel Christman; and this is Dame Cecily Small, the sister of Sir Robert. She is as a grandmother to me.”

“You are all welcome to
Queen’s Malvern,”
said the dame politely, dropping a scant curtsy. “Come into the house for biscuits and wine, my lords, ladies.” Turning, she led the way.

“Why, what is this, Velvet?” teased Ralegh. “You have not met your betrothed husband? How old-fashioned, an arranged marriage.”

“It is not important,” Velvet muttered, feeling reduced to a child once more by the old dame’s scolding. “I was matched with the son of my father’s friend when I was so little I cannot even remember the gentleman. Besides, my mama said I need not marry him if I do not love him.”

“Yet,” persisted Ralegh, “your Dame Cecily says he is coming shortly, and you won’t be here to greet him, will you?” He began to chuckle. “You are rather a sly puss, aren’t you, Velvet de Marisco?”

“I rather admire her spirit.” Essex grinned. “Give me a lass with a mind of her own!”

“Give you a lass, period!” snapped Angel. “I never knew you to be particularly discriminating in your appetites, my lord earl!”

“My lords, Angel! Stop this instant,” cried the gentle Bess. “Angel, you and I have come to help Velvet and to advise her what she will need at court. You gentlemen will sit quietly and have your wine while we do so,” she finished firmly.

Both men smiled agreeably, and then followed the rapidly disappearing skirts of Dame Cecily down the hall. Elizabeth Throckmorton was one of the queen’s favorite ladies, both well liked and respected. At twenty-four, she had been at court some years and was the oldest Maid of Honor. Now she turned to her new charge and said, “Will you take us to your room, Velvet?”

Velvet nodded, then led the way upstairs to her chambers.

Angel Christman slipped an arm through hers and said, “If Bess has decided to take you under her wing, you’re a lucky lass. She is so very nice and most of the others aren’t—but then you’ll find out soon enough.” Angel was only two years older than Velvet, but her life at court had given her a worldly-wise look that made her seem much more mature.

Velvet was soon to realize how fortunate indeed she was to have the friendship of Bess and Angel. Examining her wardrobe, they declared it outdated for the most part and much too countrified. She would, they said ruefully, be laughed out of court, and first impressions were so very important. She would have to stay behind when the court left
Blackthorn Priory
and then join them in a week after her wardrobe had been refurbished.

“No, I can’t!” Velvet cried. “He might come in that time and then I would never get away! I would rather be laughed at by the court than …” She stopped as she realized that she had been close to disclosing her innermost fears.

“Well,” said Bess, not one to pry though she was curious, “perhaps we can have your seamstress redo several of your gowns tonight. Then you can come with us tomorrow while she makes you some new gowns to send along after us. The seamstress will have to sew you several gowns all in white. The queen prefers her ladies in black and her Maids of Honor in white when they are on duty with her.”

“Can the white gowns be trimmed with anything?” Velvet queried.

“Aye.” Bess laughed. “ ’Tis the only way we’re able to avoid looking like little French nuns. Sometimes our gowns are white with another color in the underskirt or in a pattern with a white background. Don’t fret, though, Velvet. You’ll get to wear your most beautiful and colorful gowns at the fetes and the masques. It’s just that Her Majesty sometimes has her moods.”

“What Bess is too nice to say is that the queen is growing old, and resents it,” said Angel astutely. “By keeping those attending her in either black or white, she can appear even more glorious than her legend makes her.”

“She is a kind mistress!” defended Bess.

“To those who don’t displease her, but she is jealous, too, Bess, and well you know it. She hates for any of her Maids to leave her to make happy marriages, for she will not marry herself. Woe to any girl fool enough to wish for a husband in the queen’s presence.”

“There are those who have married with her blessing,” Bess said.

“Girls who came to her long betrothed by their families, like Velvet, but the lasses who have found love at court have been cruelly handled by the queen, and you know I speak the truth, Bess. Why else would
you
be so careful?”

“Angel!” Bess’s face was anguished.

“Oh, very well, but ’tis right glad I am to be only a humble royal ward.” Angel turned to Velvet with an impudent grin. “Are you excited to be leaving your country nest, little mouse, and coming with us?”

“Yes, yes,” agreed Velvet, greatly relieved and more at ease now that the conversation was off marriage.

They entered Velvet’s bedchamber, and, to her surprise, Daisy, her mother’s tiring woman, was awaiting her there.

“You’ve already been in the dressing room, I can tell from the look on your faces,” Daisy said.

“Oh, Daisy! Most of my things are so … so …”

“Old-fashioned and childish,” supplied Daisy pertly. “Aye, and that’s the truth, but don’t you worry none, Mistress Velvet. Your mother’s gowns are always in the height of fashion no matter that she doesn’t go to court anymore. Since she’s away and they’re just hanging there in her wardrobe, I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t refit some of them for you.”

“A most sensible solution,” remarked Bess. “Might we see the gowns you think would suit Mistress Velvet, Daisy?”

“I’ll bring them in,” came the reply. “No one is allowed in my lady’s wardrobe but me.” She hurried from the room.

“What an old dragon,” Angel said. “I imagine she’s been with your mother forever.”

“Almost thirty years,” Velvet supplied. “She was very annoyed because Mama wouldn’t let her go along on her voyage this time, but then Daisy never really liked to travel with Mama anyway. She has an enormous family, for every time her husband, Bran Kelly, came home from the sea he used to give her another child before going off again.” Velvet giggled.

“How many children do they have?” Bess queried.

“Ten. She’s really an amazing woman, Daisy. All her babes lived, and all have grown up healthy and strong. There are seven sons and three daughters, whose names are Pansy, Marigold, and Clover.”

Before Velvet could divulge any more, however, Daisy returned to the bedchamber carrying several gowns, a young girl following behind her with more. “Pansy and I have brought you five, Mistress Velvet,” Daisy said. “These colors should suit you best. We’ll see what bolts of fabric are in the storeroom later and you may choose several to be made into additional gowns.”

The dresses drew gasps of admiration and not a touch of envy from both Bess and Angel. They were richly made, encrusted with gems, and embroidered with gold and silver threads. Three were jewel colors: sapphire blue, aquamarine, and amethyst; two were pastels: apple green and rose pink. It had not occurred to her new friends until this moment that Velvet de Marisco was a young heiress with the kind of wealth that is only fable in most cases. They had not associated her with that kind of wealth, for she was so unspoiled, innocent, and totally unpretentious.

Daisy quickly had the girl out of her riding clothes and into one of her mother’s gowns. She eyed her charge critically, walking slowly about her, nodding and muttering to herself. “Pansy!” she said sharply to her daughter. “Pansy, fetch the seamstress this minute!”

“Aye, Ma!” The girl ran off.

“I’m going to send her with you as your maid,” Daisy told Velvet. “I’ve taught her everything she knows, and she’ll do a good job for you.”

“But what of Violet?”

“Surely you wouldn’t expect a nursemaid to be a good tiring woman, Mistress Velvet? Oh, she’s been fine as long as you were here at
Queen’s Malvern
or in France with your grandparents, but at the Tudor court? Nay! Besides, Violet is with child and is to finally marry.”

“The assistant coachman!” Velvet exclaimed gleefully.

Bess Throckmorton and Angel Christman looked at each other
and giggled. Each was thinking that country gossip was really no different from court gossip.

Daisy looked somewhat mortified. She didn’t like feeling foolish before these two fine ladies. After all, she had been at court before either of them was ever born. “There now,” she fussed at Velvet, “such things are not your concern. Your papa would have a fit if he thought you knew about them!”

Mercifully, Pansy had been quick and returned with Bonnie, the manor seamstress, who went to work at once to alter the gowns. Velvet was an inch taller than her beautiful mother, but each gown had a generous hem so that the length could be adjusted. The waist and bustline of the gowns, however, needed to be taken in as Velvet was more slender than Skye and far smaller in the bust. The seamstress marked the adjustments to be made on each gown, and then, gathering up the garments, took them away.

Daisy then dressed her charge in a silk chamber robe and led the way to the manor storeroom, where she displayed the many and exquisite fabrics kept there to the three girls.

“God’s foot!” swore Angel. “You could outfit the entire court for a year and a day with all of this.”

“Aye,” Daisy noted proudly.

It did not take Velvet long to decide, for she knew exactly what she wanted. She did not fancy heavy velvet fabric for the summer and early autumn. She chose instead a marvelous silk in topaz gold and another in sea green. For her duty gowns she chose half a dozen whites of various fabrics. Some were plain, some designed with colored and metallic threads and jewels. Then, seeing the gorgeous Angel almost salivating over a turquoise silk and Bess looking longingly at a bolt the color of red poppies, Velvet said, “Take those two also, Daisy.” She pointed at her friends’ choices. “Have Bonnie measure both Mistress Throckmorton and Mistress Christman before they leave and make them gowns to send along with mine.”

“Oh, no, Velvet!” Bess protested. “ ’Tis much, much too generous of you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Velvet replied. “There is, as Angel pointed out, enough fabric here to clothe the entire court. Please, Bess! You and Angel are the first friends I’ve made at court. I would so like to share my bounty with you.”

Quick tears sprang to Bess Throckmorton’s eyes. What a lovely child this was, she thought. She blinked the dampness away and said, “We thank you for your great kindness, Velvet de Marisco.”

“Amen!” breathed Angel somewhat irreverently, and when Bess sent her a chiding look, the blond girl answered most matter-of-factly,
“Well, I thought you weren’t going to let us have them, Bess. That’s all right for you with a family to aid you, but a royal ward has precious little!”

Bess Throckmorton shook her head. “Nay, Angel. Were I a maid of wealth I should have long been married, but my brother lost my dowry in a poor investment. I am no better off than you for all my high connections.”

“Then thank God for the queen’s court, which houses and clothes, though not too generously, us poor but well-connected church mice.” Angel chuckled good-naturedly.

Mistress de Marisco soon found that though she might be a princess at
Queen’s Malvern
, she was most lowly in rank in the hierarchy of the royal court. Among all the ladies and greater nobility, the heiress of Lundy, as she was known, was a very small fish indeed. Still, she was well liked by those who took the trouble to get to know her, for though Velvet was young, she was amusing and well read, and though she had a temper there was no meanness in her.