Friarsgate Inheritance: Until You Part 36

"Before!" he said. "I do not want the stink of the road interfering with my palate, dear girl. You, on the other hand, eat like the countrywoman you are."

"I do not consider food a holy experience, cousin," Rosamund told him.

They separated, Rosamund taking Philippa upstairs to her apartment. Lucy was awaiting them, and her enthusiasm at their quarters reminded Rosamund of Annie's very reaction when she had come to court after Owein's death.

"The majordomo said this little room is for me," Lucy told them.

"Where am I to lay my head?" Philippa asked.

"Why, Mistress Philippa, you have your very own room. Come, and I'll show you. It's right next to your mama's." She led them into Rosamund's bedchamber, and after going to a paneled wall, pressed a hidden lock allowing a door to spring open. "See! It's your very own bedchamber, and you can see the river from the windows. And," she continued, looking at Rosamund, "there is no other entrance into this room but through your mother's chamber. You will be as snug as a birdling in its nest."

Rosamund realized she had not seen this door before or even known it was there. There had been a tapestry covering the door. She wondered if there was such a room at the Greenwich house or at Otterly. Still, it was the perfect chamber for her young daughter to sleep in, and its decor matched the rose velvet of her bedchamber.

Several hours later, as the twilight deepened, they sat down to dinner in Lord Cambridge's hall overlooking the river. The cook had outdone himself. There were large prawns in a mustard sauce and pickled eel. There was a capon stuffed with apples, raisins, bread, and sage; a leg of lamb; a game pie made with venison and another filled with pieces of duck in a red wine gravy. There was a small country ham and a platter of asparagus in white wine, along with bowls of peas and small whole beets. There was fresh bread, sweet b.u.t.ter in a stone crock, and several cheeses. And when the remains of the meal had been cleared from the table, a basket of fresh strawberries and a large bowl of thick Devonshire clotted cream was placed upon the board. Philippa was permitted just a small goblet of wine, not watered. She nursed it carefully.

Sated, Tom pushed himself back from his table. "An excellent meal," he told his majordomo. "Tell Cook I said so."

"Indeed, my lord, I will." The majordomo looked to Rosamund. "Your bath will be ready in half an hour, my lady," he told her.

"Thank the men," Rosamund answered him. "I know the work involved in bringing the water upstairs, and I appreciate their effort."

"Yes, my lady," the majordomo said. From the beginning, the lady of Friarsgate had always been thoughtful of her cousin's servants. She was a most unusual woman.

"I am so tired, mama," Philippa said, yawning.

"Then you shall bathe first, my poppet," her mother replied, "but bathe you will, for you have not had a bath since we departed Friarsgate. While many in the court do not bathe regularly, you will find the king has a most sensitive nose and is most put out when a courtier stinks."

"What shall I do tomorrow when you go to see the queen?" Philippa asked.

"You shall stay in your bed, resting from our journey, and then you may walk in your uncle's gardens. The river is a most fascinating sight, and you will enjoy it. Especially as it is summertime," Rosamund told her daughter.

Finally the majordomo came to tell the lady of Friarsgate and her daughter that the tub was now filled and awaiting them.

"Good night, dear Tom," Rosamund said to her cousin as she excused herself.

"Good night," he called as they departed the hall. "Sleep well, cousin, for tomorrow you must be at your best."

Upstairs, Lucy had scented the bath with her mistress' white heather, and the room was perfumed with the smell.

"Help Philippa first," Rosamund instructed her young tiring woman. Then she went into her bedchamber and sat in the window seat looking out over her cousin's gardens and the river. Night had fallen, and she could but see the lanterns in the boat traffic on the water. She remembered the rather suggestive statues in the garden and smiled to herself. It was unlikely that Philippa would understand the nature of them, and she would be able to observe well the male anatomy, which would serve her in good stead one day.

Tomorrow, she thought. Would she see the king tomorrow? They had parted on good terms. She must a.s.sume that while he would be curious, and perhaps even angry about her involvement with the Earl of Glenkirk, he would forgive her if she asked him nicely. Nicely. Would it involve surrendering herself to him again, to prove not just her loyalty to him, but her devotion? It was disquieting to even consider such a thing, but she must look at her situation from all sides in order to be prepared for whatever was to come.

Finally Lucy came to her saying, "Mistress Philippa is tucked snugly into her bed, my lady. Will you bathe now?"

Rosamund arose from her place by the windows. "Aye, but first let me bid my daughter sweet dreams," she said. She had not heard Lucy and Philippa come into her bedchamber to enter the child's room. Now she clicked the small latch and went into the little bedchamber herself. The lock was most silent. "Good night, my darling," she said to Philippa. "Dream only of good things, and may the angels guard you."

"I will, mama. This is the most wonderful bed. Uncle Tom always has the nicest things about him."

"Aye, he does," Rosamund agreed. She bent and kissed her daughter.

"Mama? The king will be kind to you, won't he? He won't put you in the Tower?" Philippa's little face looked anxious.

"No, poppet," Rosamund a.s.sured her. "The king has always been most kind to your mama. I'm sure he will be again." Then, blowing out the candle on the little night-stand by her daughter's bed, she exited the room, leaving the door ajar in case Philippa would need her in the night.

Lucy helped her to disrobe, gathering her mistress' traveling garments up carefully. "Some will need washing, others a good brushing, my lady. What will you wear tomorrow?"

"I cannot think," Rosamund said. "Just hang my gowns in the garderobe. You pick for me, Lucy, and have the gown ready when I awake."

"Yes, my lady," the young tiring woman said. Then she helped her mistress into her tub. "We'll have to do your hair tonight, my lady. It's full of dust, and won't show to its best advantage unless it is clean. You'll want to make a good impression when you return to court. 'Tis said the king likes a pretty woman."

"It is the truth, Lucy," Rosamund told the girl. "But remember that such thoughts are not voiced for fear of offending the queen. Queen Katherine is a most genteel lady who expects decorum from the women around her. Long ago the king became involved with one of her ladies, but which of a pair of sisters no one was certain. Both were wed, and their husbands were important men with family connections. Both ladies were exiled from the court in disgrace, and the queen was most distressed. But worse, their husbands were embarra.s.sed before their king. Pretty women must be most circ.u.mspect around his majesty." Then Rosamund settled back to let Lucy wash her long auburn hair.

And when it was done and pinned atop her head, Rosamund washed herself quickly, for the water was beginning to cool. Finished, she stepped from her tub, and Lucy wrapped a warmed bathing sheet about her and then dried her with another towel. Still wrapped in the sheet, Rosamund sat down by the fire, unpinned her hair, and brushed it until it was dry. Then, after slipping on a clean lace-trimmed chemise, she left her dayroom where the tub had been set up and climbed into her own bed.

"Will that be all tonight, my lady?" Lucy inquired politely.

"Aye. Find your own bed, Lucy. You are no less tired than the rest of us. Good night," Rosamund said. And then she closed her eyes. She was in London again. Something she had never considered. Tomorrow she would go to court and face the king.

Tomorrow. What would tomorrow bring? And why was Rosamund Bolton of such interest to Henry Tudor? Well, perhaps tomorrow would bring her the answers she needed. Despite her exhaustion she was restless for some time before she finally fell asleep.

Chapter 16.

Rosamund awoke to hear the birds singing in Tom's garden. A warm breeze blew through the windows. She yawned and stretched her limbs. Turning her head, she looked through the half-open door in the paneled wall. Philippa was still sleeping. Poor child, Rosamund thought. It had been a long and hard trip for her, but she had never once complained. The return home was always easier, Rosamund considered. She threw back the coverlet on her bed and arose, then pulled the chamber pot from beneath her bed, used it, leaving it for Lucy to empty. Then she went to the windows and leaned out, sniffing the air, which smelled so different from country air. There was more traffic on the river than she had remembered. The two barges made fast to the quay bobbed in the morning sunlight. She turned back into her bedchamber, went to the door of her daughter's room, and closed it softly.

"Good morning, my lady," Lucy said, coming in with a tray for her mistress. She set the tray down on the table near the fireplace.

"Good morning," Rosamund responded. "Philippa is still sleeping. Let her be until she awakens naturally."

"Yes, my lady," Lucy responded. "Now, come and eat. It is past eight o'clock, and you have not much time if you are to be at Westminster on time."

Rosamund sat down at the table. "Nay," she agreed. "It would not do for me to be late. Is Lord Cambridge up yet?"

"Oh, yes, my lady. And he is already driving his man to distraction with all his fussing about what he will wear today. He wished to know what you will wear."

"What did you choose, Lucy?" Rosamund asked her tiring woman.

"Well, my lady, considering your position right now, I thought it best to err on the side of flattery when you go to reacquaint yourself with the queen. I chose a gown of Tudor green for you," Lucy said. "It is a simple garment, modest in its design, for you do not wish to appear ostentatious."

"I was not aware I had a gown of Tudor green," Rosamund said slowly.

"It is one that was made for you in San Lorenzo. I remade it with a more suitable neckline and sleeves," Lucy informed her mistress. "Let me show you." The tiring woman hurried from the bedchamber to return a moment later with the gown. She spread it out for her mistress to view.

Rosamund would not have recognized it for one of the dresses that Celestina had made her but for the paneled underskirt with its delicate windflower and b.u.t.terfly embroidery in silver matte threads. Gone was the bodice with the deeply scooped neckline, and billowy sheer silk sleeves. In its place was a bodice with a square-cut neckline, the sleeves now tight at the wrist with silver embroidery and covered by wide new sleeves of the same silk brocade as the gown, with large turned-back cuffs. It was a gown made to suit the height of fashion.

"You did this?" Rosamund was very surprised.

"Yes, my lady," Lucy said, blushing with pride.

"You are extraordinarily skilled with your needle, Lucy," her mistress said. "Thank you, for you have rendered a gown otherwise unsuitable for England most suitable. Go and tell Lord Cambridge's man that I shall be wearing Tudor green."

Lucy colored, pleased by her mistress' compliments. "I'll be but a moment, my lady, and then we must get you dressed," she said.

Rosamund sat down at her breakfast table. The cook had sent her a dish of eggs poached in a cream sauce flavored with nutmeg; fresh bread; b.u.t.ter; jam; and a mug of cold, sharp ale. Finding she was hungry, Rosamund ate it all and drained her mug. Lucy was already back, moving about her bedchamber and laying out petticoats and stockings, shoes and jewelry. She brought her mistress a bowl of warm water and a small cloth. Rosamund washed her face and hands. Then she scrubbed her teeth with the cloth and a mixture of pumice and ground mint. She was proud of her teeth, for unlike many others, she had them all, and they were white and even. She donned her stockings, petticoats, and chemise. Next came her bodice with its beautiful sleeves. Now Rosamund sat down so Lucy might dress her hair properly.

The tiring woman brushed her mistress' long auburn hair free of tangles. It shone with rich color. Lucy thought it a shame that Rosamund's hair must be hidden beneath a cap and a veil, but that was the custom of the court. She parted the hair in the middle, gave it a final brush, and then set a green silk French hood trimmed with pearls on Rosamund's head back just enough so that some of her beautiful hair would show. A sheer white silk veil was attached to the French hood. "I don't like these caps and veils," Lucy said. "You have such beautiful hair, my lady."

" 'Tis the fashion, and we must follow it," Rosamund replied.

Lucy set a shakefold on the floor for her mistress to step into and then drew the hooplike contraption up. She then carefully lowered Rosamund's brocade skirts over her head, careful not to jostle the French hood. They settled over the hooplike shakefold, giving the garment a graceful look. The tiring woman quickly fastened the skirts. "There," she said. "You look most proper, my lady. Let me get your jewelry case."

Rosamund chose a heavy gold chain of square links from which hung a gold and pearl crucifix. She also slipped a long rope of pearls about her slender neck and several rings upon the fingers of both hands. Thanks to her cousin she had a fine collection of jewelry now. She was no longer the little girl who had first come to court. She was the lady of Friarsgate, a woman of property and some small wealth.

"You'll need no cape, my lady," Lucy informed her. "The day promises to be warm and fair."

"Mama?" Philippa stood in the doorway to her little chamber. "Are you going to court now? Oh, how beautiful you look! I have never seen you in so fine a gown."

"I was going to wake you before I left," Rosamund told the little girl. "You slept most soundly."

"Aye. I was tired. I did not know London was so very far from Friarsgate. Edinburgh is not as far," Philippa said.

Rosamund laughed. "I remember making the trip the first time when I was thirteen. I thought we would never get here. Your father had been sent to escort me, and he was very entertaining, so I did not get discouraged or bored. Especially as it was the first time I had ever been away from my home overnight."

"Papa was always a great deal of fun," Philippa agreed. "I do miss him."

Rosamund nodded, thinking how much more simple her life would have been if Owein had not died. But then she should never have known her cousin Tom, or Patrick Leslie. Everything, she was beginning to realize, happened for a reason. "Although the queen has sent word that I am welcome and she wishes to see me, Philippa, her day is always a busy one. I may not be recognized until late in the day, and so I might not be home until long after dark. Lucy will be with you, and you know your uncle's servants, as they have come from Otterly," Rosamund explained to her daughter. "I want you to rest and enjoy the garden."

"Yes, mama," Philippa said dutifully.

Rosamund bent and kissed her daughter's brow. "Tomorrow I hope to bring you to court to meet the queen and mayhap even the king." Then she turned and hurried from the room and downstairs, where she found her cousin awaiting her.

"Come, dear girl, or we shall be late!" he admonished her.

"Shall we each take our own barge?" she asked him.

"Of course," he agreed. "We are back at court, and who knows when either of us shall be willing to come home." Then he chuckled mischievously as he escorted her from the house and down to where the two little vessels waited, bobbing in the morning sun.

"Wait for me if you get there first," she implored him. "I would go in on your arm, cousin."

"Of course, dear girl!" he a.s.sured her, helping her down into her own watercraft.

Rosamund settled herself, bidding her two rowers a good morning. They returned her greeting and then, loosing the little vessel from the quay, they maneuvered out into the broad channel of the river and began their trip downstream to Westminster Palace. Both barges moved in tandem so that they arrived at the king's current residence together. Lord Cambridge was on the royal quay in time to help his cousin from her transport. Together they entered the palace, and as both had been there before, there was no need to ask for directions to the queen's apartments.

Upon reaching it, Lord Cambridge said to one of the guardsmen at the door, "Lady Rosamund Bolton is expected by the queen." Then, kissing his cousin on the cheek, he told her, "I'm off to find some of my former playmates, dear girl. You can seek me if you truly desire to find me." Then, with a wink, he was gone.

The guardsman opened one of the tall double doors for Rosamund, and she stepped through into the queen's apartments. It was, as usual, filled with chattering women. At first Rosamund saw no one with whom she was familiar. Then a woman servant of the queen's, a Mistress Drum, hurried over to her.

"Lady Rosamund of Friarsgate, is it?" she said.

"Yes," Rosamund replied. "How nice to see you once again, Mistress Drum. Will you tell the queen I have come?"

"Yes, my lady. You may wait here among the magpies." Mistress Drum bustled off across the chamber.

Rosamund chuckled. It was an apt description for all the women gathered in the queen's antechamber. She waited for some minutes and then Mistress Drum returned.

"Her highness cannot see you now, my lady, but she says you are to remain here awaiting her pleasure," Mistress Drum reported.

"Here in the palace?" Rosamund queried politely.

"Nay. Here in her antechamber," Mistress Drum said apologetically. She glanced about the room. "Ah," she said, "I see a comfortable chair there for you, my lady," and she led Rosamund over to it. Then, with a sympathetic smile, she hurried off.

Rosamund sat down. She had no other choice. And then she waited. And she waited. The hour for the main meal of the day came, and the queen and her ladies glided through the antechamber on their way to the Great Hall. Rosamund stood up as the queen came into the room, but pa.s.sing her by, Katherine of Aragon gave no indication that she even saw her old friend waiting. She exited her apartments. Rosamund sat back down. She had not been invited to the meal and therefore could not go. The antechamber was empty now even of maidservants, and it remained empty for the next few hours while Rosamund continued to wait. Once, she got up and went to the necessary, returning quickly lest she be found gone. She could see the progress of the day into early evening through the windows of the queen's antechamber. The long twilight deepened into night, and Rosamund remained seated. Finally the door to the room opened, and Mistress Drum came back in, the look on her face a surprised one, for she had not expected to see Rosamund still there.

"You are still here, my lady?"

"I think perhaps the queen has forgotten me," Rosamund replied quietly.

"I shall find her at once and tell her you are still here," the servant said, obviously distressed that Rosamund had waited all day. She departed the chamber, and when she returned she wore an even more distressed look upon her face. "I am sorry, my lady. The queen says you are to go home and return tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mistress Drum. Please tell her highness that I shall return and wait upon her pleasure tomorrow," Rosamund said, rising, shaking her skirts, and leaving the antechamber of the queen's apartments. She could feel her anger rising, and she needed to leave the palace as quickly as possible. What was the matter with Kate that she had been treated in such an unkind fashion? She had been sitting all day, alone most of the time. No one had spoken to her. She had been offered no refreshment, and then she had been summarily dismissed. Well, tomorrow she would find out what it was all about.

But when Rosamund returned the next day, and the next, she was treated in the same fashion. She was made to wait the day alone, without so much as a cup of water. Then she was sent home without any apology.

On the fourth morning when she arrived at Westminster, Mistress Drum greeted her with an encouraging smile. "She has said she will see you today, my lady," the servant informed Rosamund.

Then she lowered her voice. "I've been with her for years, and I've never seen her be so unkind to an old friend."

"It's all right, Mistress Drum," Rosamund replied softly. "It isn't always easy being a queen."

Mistress Drum nodded her head in agreement. " 'Tis the lack of a child that troubles her muchly. And her so devout and faithful, too."

"G.o.d will work his miracles in his own time," Rosamund said.

"Amen!" The servant crossed herself, then she said, "You'll have to wait again, but it will be sometime today. I promise."

So Rosamund sat down in her chair to wonder again why the queen was being so rude. It was not like Kate. As loyal as she was to her queen, Rosamund considered that she could be home now doing many other things. It was a long and arduous journey from Friarsgate. And then, too, there was Logan whom she had promised to allow to court her. Did she really want him do so? Why was everyone so determined she remarry? How could she give herself to any man after Patrick Leslie? She let her mind wander back to their sojourn in San Lorenzo. It had been the most perfect time in her life, and she doubted anything could ever be as wonderful as those months she had had with him there and at Friarsgate. It had been a perfect dream.

The morning pa.s.sed. The queen and her ladies departed for the main meal of the day. Rosamund continued to wait. And then, in late afternoon, the door to the queen's antechamber opened, and Katherine of Aragon entered the room. She looked directly at Rosamund and said, "Come!" Rosamund jumped up and followed her old friend into her privy chamber.

The queen whirled about and said in a cold voice, "How dare you ignore my summons of a year ago, Rosamund Bolton!"

"I did not, your highness," Rosamund protested. "I was not at Friarsgate when your invitation came. I was in Edinburgh, where I had gone to be married."