Lost Love Found (21 page)

“I am enjoying it,” Valentina admitted. “Perhaps that is why I am so loath to make a choice. I have never before had gentlemen vying for me. In my youth I preferred staying home with my parents.”

“Gracious, my dear,” said the queen, laughing, “you are still quite
in
your youth!”

The court moved on. To Windsor Castle, where the queen had a special bathing room whose walls and ceilings were all mirrors. To Hampton Court, where the throne room was so beautiful that it was called the “Paradise Chamber.” To the Earl of Nottingham’s country home, where the queen was much taken with a set of tapestries depicting the Armada victory. The countess had commissioned them to commemorate the fifth anniversary of the occasion. The earl was extremely proud of the tapestries, for he had played an important role in that great victory. The queen hinted, none too subtly, that she would enjoy possessing the earl’s fine tapestries. The earl, just as pointedly, ignored her hint. Kinship went only so far.

The French king, Henri IV, was at Calais. When she learned of his visit to that channel port, Elizabeth hurried to Dover and sent him a message to cross the short distance separating them to see her. Henri had been greatly aided financially by the English during his troubled reign. He owed Elizabeth the courtesy of accepting her invitation, but he did not. The queen was deeply hurt by his refusal.

Eleanora Clifford had departed for her home in Kent in late May and was replaced by Mistress Maggie St. Michael. Margaret Dudley, facing her eighteenth birthday, had been made a suitable offer by Penelope Howard’s second brother. With the queen’s permission, she accepted, and the wedding was scheduled for Christmastide. Payton St. Michael was secretly courting the prickly Honoria de Bohun. Valentina had warned him that the queen was in no mood to lose another maid of honor so soon.

“Are you mad?” Lady Barrows scolded her brother. “You are a younger son, so your success in life depends on your success at court. Why do you invite the queen’s wrath? She is more difficult about changes than she has ever been.”

Payton St. Michael looked abashed, but his jaw, so like his father’s, tightened in a show of stubbornness that Valentina quickly recognized. “What makes you think I intend to spend my life in this cesspool?” he demanded. “I love Honoria, and if she can overcome her foolish pride, she will admit to loving me. I am not a rich man, but I am comfortable and have more than enough to share with a wife and children.”

Valentina shook her head at him, but she gently patted his cheek. “Be cautious,” she said softly. “If your intentions are truly honorable, then I would see neither you nor Honoria in disgrace.”

By September, the queen was feeling poorly, for her summer had been a busy one, but she would not admit her failing health to anyone, least of all to herself. She carried on as she had always carried on, going full-tilt, wearing out those half her age. She attended all council meetings, continued to ride and hunt, and when she did not feel up to dancing—only, she would complain, because she had not the wonderful partners of the past—she sat during the evening and watched the dancing, clapping her hands and keeping time with her feet.

The good news from Ireland, for Lord Mountjoy had been successful in beating the Earl of Tyrone and propping up the English governor in Dublin, cheered the queen. Valentina looked forward to the opening of Parliament, for in all of Elizabeth Tudor’s long reign, there had been only fourteen Parliaments called.

In early October, Lord Bliss arrived at court without warning to take his sons and daughters home to Pearroc Royal. His visit was a joy for the queen, who had not seen him in nearly ten years.

Valentina and her little sister, Maggie, looked up, startled, as their father was announced and he entered the queen’s salon.

“Papa!” they cried in unison.

His smile acknowledged them, but he walked directly to the queen and, kneeling, raised her hand to his lips. “It has been a long time, Gloriana,” he said. “The years have not been overly unkind to either of us, I see.”

Elizabeth’s gaze softened as she looked down upon the dark head, now sprinkled with silver. The eyes that looked up at her were as direct and honest as they had always been. “You have put on flesh, my lord, since we last met,” she noted as he rose.

“ ’Tis all that good country food and country air, Gloriana. I am a contented man, thanks to you, and my Aidan is a contented woman, thanks to me. All that I have is due to you, so it pains me that I must ask for the temporary loan of my daughters who serve you.”

“Is all well with your lady wife and your other children, my lord?” The queen could see that Valentina and Maggie were looking worried.

“My family is well, madam, but an elderly family retainer, my wife’s old tiring woman, Mag Feeney, is near death and wishes to see all the children before she dies. It is for that purpose that I have come. The physician says her time is short, no more than a month or two at most. Mag helped to raise Aidan, and has helped to birth and raise all our children. Our little Maggie is named for Mag, for Aidan loves her dearly. We all do.”

The queen nodded. “I know how you feel, my lord, for I felt the same way about my dear Kate Ashley. Of course Valentina and Maggie must go home, but you must promise me that they will return after the old lady has been buried. You see, I cannot do without either of them, particularly my dear Valentina.” The queen smiled. “As for Mistress Maggie, my lord, she is most obviously your daughter. She has a silver tongue and a mischievous way about her that has given us all fits of laughter. I have not laughed so much in years. Since your little lass has joined us, my sides ache constantly. I will miss them both. Go now. Take them with you, my Conn. But send them back.”

As Valentina and Maggie curtsied to the queen, Elizabeth said in a low voice, “Promise me you will return, Valentina.”

Valentina’s lovely eyes were damp with emotion. “I will come back, dear madam. You may rely on me. I will not fail you.” Then she caught the queen’s hand and kissed it. Elizabeth Tudor gave her a warm smile.

“And you must come back, too, Maggie, my little scamp,” the queen said to Maggie.

“Oh, I will, Your Majesty,” the young girl said, “for being at home is ever so dull, and court is so exciting!”

Conn smiled tenderly at his youngest daughter, and then the three backed from the room. Conn’s eyes met the queen’s, and Elizabeth said, “You are still the handsomest man at court, my lord Bliss. Farewell and Godspeed!”

“I will be back, Bess,” Conn said softly. “That I promise you.”

She nodded, and then the door closed between them.

“Is Mag very bad, Papa?” Valentina asked her father.

“She was having a good day when I left, but there are more bad days now, my love. She will not last out the year. She has been lonely since Cluny died two years back. I think she will be glad to be with him again.”

“I must tell my girls that I am leaving. Nan, of course, will be delighted to be going home, even for a short time.”

“Then you are happy at court?” her father asked her.

“Aye, I am! I know eventually I must choose another husband—even the queen tells me I must—but for now I am content to serve her. She is so very lonely, Papa. It is not like the days when you and Mama and Aunt Skye were at court. They all wait for her to die. All of them. Even little Cecil, loyal as he is, makes preparations for turning the government over to King James.”

“Then she has named James Stewart her heir?”

“Not formally,” Valentina replied, “but we know that she will. She drops broad hints about what she would like to have happen after she is gone. All she has left is her power, and even that is hollow. Of all the men who loved and served her, only Sir Walter Ralegh is left. This terrible business with Essex broke her heart, Papa. The queen needs her friends now, poor lady.”

Lord Bliss nodded. “She has always needed her friends, Valentina. It is not easy to be a reigning queen, but by God, Bess has done it better than anyone, even her father.”

They reached the Maidens’ Chamber, and Maggie St. Michael hurried in, eager to be first with the news that she and Valentina would be leaving court. Conn drew Valentina aside.

“Have Nan follow us on the morrow with your things. We will leave as soon as you and your sister can be ready. Your mother is anxious and will not rest until I get you home.”

“Aye, papa, I understand. I shall hurry Maggie, I promise.” Her entry into the Maiden’s Chamber was greeted with cries of distress.

“Lady Barrows! Lady Barrows! Oh, say it is not so! Please say you are not leaving us!”

“I am, but Maggie and I will be back as quickly as we can, my maids,” Valentina told them. “Our old servant is dying, and we cannot refuse her plea that we come home so she may bid us a final farewell. While I am gone, however, you must all be on your best behavior. I would be very distressed and disappointed to have you slide back to your old slothful and wanton ways. Serve the queen with diligence and courtesy while I am away, and I shall be proud of you,” Lady Barrows finished.

Maggie had hurried to her elder sister’s private apartment off the Maidens’ Chamber to tell Nan the news, and the tiring woman was beside herself with delight. “Poor old Mag,” she said when her mistress entered and began changing into her traveling clothes. “I don’t wish her ill, and that’s a fact,” said Nan, “but I can’t help being pleased that we are forced to go home.

Valentina smiled and pulled on her riding boots. “See that the coachman and his assistant are fed, Nan, and do not pack everything now, for we
are
coming back.”

“I know what to pack, m’lady,” Nan said sharply, then chuckled. “I’m so anxious to get home that even though I shall start the day after you, you may arrive at Pearroc Royal to find me already there!”

As they departed from the Maidens’ Chamber, they found the Earl of Kempe talking with Lord Bliss. “So, divinity,” he said, turning to look at her with admiring eyes, “you think to creep away without telling me, do you? I shall not let you do it.”

“Tom Ashburne, you are a most impossible man!” Valentina laughed. “Do the walls of this palace have ears, and have those ears wings that you know of my plans only minutes after I do? You have, I may assume, introduced yourself to my father, Lord Bliss?”

“Indeed, madam, I have.”

“Then we will bid you farewell, for we must hasten,” said Valentina.

Making her an elegant leg, he caught her hand and kissed it passionately. “Farewell, divinity! We will meet again, and sooner than you think. Mistress Maggie. My lord.” Turning, he was gone.

“You have a suitor.” Lord Bliss nodded thoughtfully.

“She has two, Papa!” Maggie said gleefully.

“Maggie!” Her elder sister sighed. “Please.”

“Two suitors? Indeed, my lass, do you? Who is the other?” their father inquired.

“Cousin Padraic, Papa!” Maggie cried before Valentina could speak for herself. “He and the earl are forever in competition for Val’s favors, but she tells them she will not marry again—which only makes them try harder. I do not understand men at all!”

Conn and his elder daughter laughed at the observation, and Conn told his young daughter, “I would just as soon, my Maggie, that you did
not
understand men. At least not right yet.”

Lord Bliss, his two daughters, and two sons were protected during the journey by a half-dozen men-at-arms from the St. Michael estate. Leaving the city, they rode into the countryside at noon through golden autumnal forests, past small farms, through orchards whose heavy-boughed trees perfumed the warm air with the scent of ripe apples, by fields purple with Michaelmas daisies. Shortly before dusk fell, they arrived at a cheerful country inn, The White Rose, where they would put up for the night.

It was a small establishment and had but four guest chambers. The men-at-arms would have to make do in the stable loft after their supper. The innkeeper’s wife was an excellent hostess, and the meal set before them was pleasing. There was a large country ham, several juicy capons all roasted and golden, a platter with a large salmon set amid a bed of cress, a rabbit pie, and a wonderful-smelling dish filled with chunks of lamb and vegetables in a sherried cream sauce. There was a dish of boiled carrots and one of braised lettuce. There was bread in abundance, crocks of sweet country butter and a wheel of sharp, hard cheese. Upon the sideboard sat a bowl of polished red apples and russet pears; a custard with cherry preserves; an apple cake with its own bowl of clotted cream. There was ale and cider in frosted jugs upon the tables.

The St. Michaels family ate with a good appetite. They were a family who enjoyed being together, and when the meal had been cleared away, they all gathered about the fireplace to talk.

“I want to leave just before dawn,” Conn told his children. They groaned, and he laughed, teasing, “All your high living at court has made you soft.”

“Serving the queen day and night is hardly easy living, Papa, and you well know it,” Valentina said. “As for Colin and Payton, however, they have been sporting with the ladies and frolicking at the theaters and in the Bear Garden. ’Tis a wonder they have not grown old before their time.”

“Young men at court are supposed to frolic,” Payton St. Michael protested.

“But you are frolicking with Mistress Honoria de Bohun, and if the queen catches you, you will be out of favor with her quickly, even if you are Papa’s son.” Maggie giggled.

Payton shot his little sister a black look. “I like Mistress de Bohun,” he said.

“You are the only one at court who does, for she is such a crab apple,” Maggie replied. “All those airs and fine manners and la di da ways of hers. What does she have to be so proud about, I ask you? She is as poor as a church mouse. Had her family not been owed a favor by a very important person at court, she would never have become a maid of honor.”

“Maggie, you are being uncharitable,” Valentina said. “I like Honoria. She just takes a little getting used to, for she is very sensitive about her family’s poverty, and she never forgets that her family sent her to court to find a husband. All she has to recommend her is her prettiness, her virtue, and an old name. It is hard on a woman to have nothing when she lives in a world that judges one by material possessions. I hope, Pay, that you will treat her kindly and not attempt to seduce her, for she is a good girl.”