Lost Love Found (7 page)

Lord Bliss agreed with his wife. Like Aidan, Conn did not have the answer to Valentina’s current dilemma. Valentina was too old for additional studies, and the responsibilities of running Pearroc Royal belonged to Lady Bliss. There seemed to be no place for her within the household. Conn and Aidan considered their daughter too young to be allowed to return to her late husband’s home by herself, and even if she had a proper chaperone, the truth of the matter was that there was even less for Valentina to do at Hill Court than at Pearroc Royal.

“Send her to court,” said Skye O’Malley de Marisco when her brother confided his concerns to his elder sister during the families’ shared Christmas celebration. “I am surprised that you and Aidan haven’t thought of that. Both Anne and Bevin have spent time serving the queen. All of the women in our family have, except for those who are too young and Valentina. Court is the perfect place for her right now.”

“You have not been to court in years,” said Conn. “It is not like it used to be.”

“Because I am still banned from Bess’s presence does not mean I do not know what goes on at court.” Skye smiled archly. She had just celebrated her sixtieth birthday, yet seen from a distance, many took her for a far younger woman. She stood straight and her lustrous hair was still dark but for a narrow pair of silver wings on either side of her head, just above her ears. Her Kerry-blue eyes had not faded and, as always, her gaze was direct.

“Valentina has never wanted to go to court,” Conn replied. “She has always preferred living in the country. She is much like Aidan in temperament.”

“With a generous amount of O’Malley stubbornness,” was the tart reply. “Listen to me, Conn. Valentina cannot make a judgment without having spent some time at court. Granted, it is not as exciting as it was in our day. Bess is almost seventy, and already the sharks are circling her. Although she will not confirm the succession for fear of being deposed because of her age, James Stewart will eventually be England’s king. In the meantime, the glorious days of our youth are long past, brother mine.

“Valentina must, of course, go to court. To live in Bess Tudor’s time and not know her would be criminal. My niece is simply shy, as Aidan once was. Had old Lord Bliss not died when he did and left Aidan in the queen’s care, it is doubtful she would ever have left her beloved Pearroc Royal at all. Then you would not have found each other, dearest Conn. Think what happiness would have been lost to you. Think on it very carefully. Valentina should think on it, too. Perhaps it is at court that her true love awaits her. Unless she goes, she may never find him.”

Lord and Lady Bliss did not wait long to broach the subject with their widowed daughter. To their great surprise she agreed with her Aunt Skye. She had refused a stay at court when she was younger, but her situation was far different now. Remaining at home was gaining her nothing. Marrying Edward Barrows had brought her no happiness. She would journey to court and see if her fortune lay there.

Immediately the house was thrown into an uproar as Lady Barrows’s trunks and boxes were made ready. Aidan’s elderly tiring woman, Mag Feeney, took charge of the packing.

“Did I not spend time at court with my lady before she wed himself?” she demanded of the other servants with just the vaguest hint of superiority. “I know what is needed at court.”

Lady de Marisco’s tiring woman, Daisy Kelly, rode over from Queen’s Malvern to help. She was far more experienced in the ways of court than was the elderly Mag, for Skye O’Malley de Marisco spent a great deal of time in the queen’s service. Without offending the prickly Mag, she aided her, and her help was much appreciated, for it was rare that old Mag left her bed these days, being greatly crippled in her joints.

Lady Barrows’s gowns, underclothing, night garments, furs and cloaks, jewelry, and bedding were all carefully packed. There was a small oak tub for bathing that was packed along with Valentina’s down pillows. She would have her own coach and driver, and horses both for the carriage and for riding. She was to be introduced into court by her cousin Willow, the Countess of Alcester, who took great pride in being one of the people the queen trusted.

A place had already been found for Valentina among the queen’s ladies, for one of those fortunates had gone home to York for Christmas, caught a severe chill, and died most unexpectedly. Learning of it, Willow quickly importuned the Lady Howard, Countess of Nottingham, to put forward her cousin’s name.

“Although my cousin is but twenty, madam, she is a most serious and learned woman,” Willow said.

“A widow, you say?”

“Aye, madam. The widow of Lord Barrows of Hill Court in Oxfordshire. They were wed but a short time, and there are no children or other encumbrances to take Lady Barrows away from her duties to Her Majesty.” Willow knew that at this stage in her life the queen disliked change, and she sought eagerly to place Valentina in as good a light as possible.

Lady Howard, who had been Catherine Carey, daughter of the queen’s late first cousin, Henry Carey, Lord Hunsdon, did not recognize Lord Barrows’s name. “Who are your cousin’s parents?” she demanded.

“Her father is my mother’s brother, born an O’Malley but known these many years as Conn St. Michael, Lord Bliss. Her mother is the only child of the late Payton St. Michael, the former Lord Bliss,” replied Willow.

“Conn O’Malley!” A small smile of remembrance touched Lady Howard’s lips. “ ‘The Handsomest Man at Court,’ he was called. He caused a most frightful scandal, and the queen married him off to an heiress and sent him from court. He was later allowed back, but I’ve not seen him in years. He was a charming man!” Then the good woman caught herself and said, “So he settled down, did he?”

“A model husband and father to seven,” said Willow with a small smile. Uncle Conn had the most staggering effect on court ladies of a certain age, though she herself could not see it.

“Well,” said the countess of Nottingham, “you are not a frivolous woman, Lady Edwardes, and I cannot remember your ever asking for a position for a relative or a friend. You will guarantee your cousin’s behavior?”

“Of course, madam, but there is no need. Valentina is a most circumspect woman, as was her mother when she served the queen.”

“Aidan St. Michael,” mused Lady Howard, and her brow wrinkled in concentration as she searched her memory. “A tall, rather plain girl, was she not?”

“Aye, madam.”

“I remember, though vaguely,” said the countess. “I also recall that Lincoln’s wife was a distant relation, and that when she found out the girl and her wealth had slipped through her fingers, she was most disappointed. Is your cousin as plain as her mother?”

“Nay, madam. She, and in fact all of my uncle’s children, tend to favor him,” replied Willow.

This conversation took place on the last day of December and, Valentina’s place guaranteed, Willow sent a messenger to her mother at Queen’s Malvern. On the seventh day of January, 1601, immediately following the family’s Twelfth Night festivities, Valentina, Lady Barrows, departed from her childhood home for the second time in six months. The last time she had left a bride. Now she went to seek her fortune.

The servants, most of whom had known Valentina since her childhood, lined up to bid her farewell. Beal, the family butler, was close to seventy now, but was still more capable than most of doing his job. His wife, the housekeeper, still served the family and had lined up the maids in a row. Erwina, the fat cook, and Leoma, the laundress, wept unashamedly and hugged Lady Barrows. It seemed to Valentina that they were more emotional about her going off to court than they had been when she married. Martin, the coachman, gave strict instructions to Tam, his assistant, for it was Tam who would be driving Lady Barrows’s coach. Her own coachman had never been to London and was frankly afraid to make the trip. He would remain at Pearroc Royal to assist Martin in Tam’s place.

Aidan hugged her daughter. “Now remember, the queen will not like it if you put yourself too forward, my dear. She can be impatient, but she has a kind heart.”

“She’s a bitch and has a long memory for a fault, an insult, or a slight,” said Skye bluntly. “She admires women of intellect, so do not be afraid to let her know that you are intelligent.”

“Mind your manners,” Aidan admonished Valentina. “Remember to eat with delicacy.”

“Beware the gentlemen,” continued Skye. “Most will be utterly charming but entirely insincere. They will all attempt to seduce you, be they married or bachelors. The married ones are the worst. A very few bachelors will be worth your time. You will know which ones they are.”

“Be sure that your gowns and undergarments are clean and free of stains,” Aidan fretted. “A slovenly appearance will gain you the queen’s disfavor.”

“Guard your reputation,” said Skye. “Do not gossip about others, although they will surely gossip about you. If you are careful and give them nothing to talk about, there is little they can say—although they will say something.” She laughed. “As for what you hear of others, Valentina, keep your own counsel.”

“May we
please
go?” asked Padraic Burke, who was escorting his cousin. “I will be spending the next few months at court, and I promise to watch over this innocent.”

The coach and its escort of six armed men rumbled away from the ivy-covered gray-stone house with its peaked roof of Cotswold slates. The day was cold but fair. The estate lake reflected bright sunlight from its frozen surface, but there was little snow on the ground. As she leaned out of the coach window to look back at her beloved home, Valentina could not help but feel nervous.

“Get back inside,” Padraic cautioned from atop his horse. “You are going to fall out of the carriage.”

Valentina stuck out her tongue at him but obeyed, pulling up the window to fasten it securely by its leather hinges. “Well,” she said aloud to the passing landscape as she settled herself back into her seat within the lurching vehicle, “it cannot be any worse.”

“What can’t be any worse?” demanded Nan, her anxious tiring woman.

“Whatever’s in store for me now. The last time I left home I was back within the month, a widow. This journey,” she said with relish, “could be the start of a real adventure for us!”

“God forbid it, m’lady!” Nan answered, rolling her eyes in horror. “I’m not an adventurous woman, and I had all the excitement I could take, enough to last me a lifetime, when you was just a wee nursling. I married my Harry Beal, gave him three healthy bairns, two of ’em boys, and then had to bury a good husband when I’d expected to live out our old age together. ’Tis enough excitement for me, m’lady. You just go to London, serve the queen nicely, and find yerself another husband. ’Tis what a woman’s meant for, ain’t it? A husband and babes.”

“Why, Nan,” Valentina teased her faithful servant. “Where is your sense of derring-do?”

“I left it behind in Ireland twenty years back, m’lady” came the dour reply.

“Well, you had best find it again, Nan,” warned her mistress mischievously. “I have been a little country girl my whole life. I have spent all my time daydreaming about a love that doesn’t exist for me, and I never made time for frivolous things. That is why I am going to court, Nan.
For fun
! For the sheer fun of it!” Having announced her intentions to her scandalized tiring woman, Valentina settled back in her seat. There was a smile on her beautiful face such as Nan had never seen.

“God help us both!” the servant said. “If you don’t sound just like yer aunt Skye!”

Part II

T
HE
Q
UEEN’S

C
OURT

1601

Chapter 2