The Last Heiress (50 page)

“How did you know I needed you?” Elizabeth greeted him with a hug. “Come into the hall. The April rains have begun. Are you too wet?”

“Dear, dear girl!” He kissed her cheeks, and then stared at the little boy looking up at him with large eyes. “Can this be my namesake, Elizabeth? God’s wounds, dear girl, he is practically as big as Banon’s little son, and not half his age. I see he is taking after your delicious Scot. Where is the good fellow?”

“In the kennels. His Friar sired a fine litter of pups, and he is choosing one for young Tom,” she told him. “I have been commanded to court,” she said without further ado. “Anne Boleyn is the king’s new wife, and she wants me for whatever reason.”

“I know. Baen sent a message to me with the royal messenger, but do not be angry, dear girl. He was concerned for you.”

“I will not ask that you come with me,” Elizabeth said.

“And I will accept your decision unless you change your mind, my dear,” he told her. “Have you gotten out your fine gowns yet?”

“Nancy and I have been working on them for many days now. You have your ear to the court despite the distance between Otterly and London. Have the styles changed greatly, or will my barely used wardrobe do, Uncle?”

“We must have a few more French hoods made, for they will now be all the rage, I guarantee you, dear girl,” he replied. “Your gowns were quite stylish three years ago, and will be just as fashionable now.

Perhaps something new in green, though.”

“I am better in a darker green than light, Uncle. Anne says she is to be crowned in June. Which of my gowns should I save for that day?

Though I will certainly not be among the queen’s train I know she will want me there, and I would do her proud.”

“Then you must have a new gown, and it will be Tudor green to honor the monarch,” Lord Cambridge said.

“No,” Elizabeth answered him. “It must be some other color, for they will all be wearing Tudor green that day in an effort to catch the king’s favor. We must think on this, Uncle, and do something extremely clever.”

“Dear girl!” he exclaimed. “You are thinking like a courtier.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Nay, Uncle. I am being practical, I swear it!”

At that moment Baen entered the hall and greeted his wife’s uncle.

He brought with him a small black-and-white border collie pup, and Friar trotted by his side. “Tom! Would you like one of these fellows for you and Will? Friar sired eight of them on his mate. I don’t believe you and Will have a dog, do you?”

“I do not believe that Pussums would tolerate a dog,” Lord Cambridge said, “but then she is very ancient now, and she accepted Domino without question. But he is a young fellow, and can annoy her. Is one of your pups a quiet creature?”

“The runt is a wee female,” Baen said. “She’s gentle.”

“Perhaps I shall take her then when I return home. I do so admire these border pups of yours, dear boy. But now all my energies must be devoted to preparing Elizabeth for her return to court. We need to fashion a gown she may wear to the coronation.”

“You mean all those gowns she had dragged out will not suit?” Baen asked, surprised.

“Nay, dear boy, her gowns are quite fine, yet she needs one special gown for the queen’s special day. But I have traveled for hours and must be fed before I can even begin to consider this difficult conundrum,” Lord Cambridge told them. “She must stand out from all the Tudor green that will be worn that day, yet not overshadow the queen.”

Baen shook his head. “ ’Tis a world I am just as glad not to be a part of,” he said honestly. “I’m but a simple Highland Scot, Tom.”

“Dear boy,” Lord Cambridge said, raising an eyebrow, “there is nothing at all simple about you. I could teach you all you needed to know to exist at court in a trice, and your own native intelligence would serve you well too.” He chuckled. “A simple Highland Scot indeed!” He turned back to Elizabeth. “When are you leaving?”

“When the queen sends my escort. I sent back to her that she must.

That I could not travel without an escort, and that my own people were all needed at Friarsgate,” she said. “Perhaps she will decide I am not worth the trouble, and I shall not have to go at all,” Elizabeth teased them. But was she teasing?

“ ’Tis a great honor, Elizabeth,” her uncle said quietly. He looked about the hall contentedly. Friarsgate was always so welcoming, and had always seemed so to him.

For the next few days Elizabeth’s gowns were prepared for packing.

The alterations were completed, the gowns and bodices inspected for any sign of stain or wear. They were brushed. Any beading needing repair was fixed, as were hems. And Lord Cambridge considered the gown his niece should wear to the new queen’s coronation.

“You are most beautiful in blue,” he finally announced. “The pale washed blue of a clearing sky after a storm. Pale blue with cream and gold,” he decided. “We must send for Will. I have a bolt of the fabric we will need, and he knows where it is. Your man must go immediately in the morning at first light if Will is to be here the day after.”

So William Smythe was sent for and returned promptly, bearing with him the required fabric. When he learned the purpose of the fabric Will agreed most heartily with Lord Cambridge that Elizabeth’s coloring best suited this shade of blue. Together the two men began work with the manor seamstress to fashion the perfect gown for Elizabeth.

“Uncle! You sew?” Elizabeth was astounded, for she had never known him to possess this particular talent.

“Dear girl, you do not think I can keep abreast of the latest fashions for my own wardrobe this far from London without occasionally doing some of my own alterations,” he replied. “The ability to repair a garment is paramount for a gentleman.”

“I am once again in awe of you,” she told him, and he flashed her a grin.

The fabric that Will had brought from Otterly was not plain, but rather it was a beautiful brocade with a design of pendant flowers and leaves woven into it. The gown’s neckline was square, bordered with silver and gold embroidery. From shoulder to wrist the sleeves were narrow, with bell-like cuffs turned back at the lower edge. The cuffs was plain cream colored watered silk. The long brocade skirt of the gown was funnel shaped. About her waist Elizabeth would wear a thin gold chain from which hung a small gold mirror, its golden back em-bossed with a quarter moon made from mother-of-pearl, and several sapphire stars.

Beneath the gown a chemise of the most delicate creamy lawn had been made. The sleeves of the chemise, which showed from beneath the gown’s deep-turned back cuff, were wide, with a dainty ruffle of golden lace at the wrists. It had a round neckline because Tom had dictated that modest but elegant simplicity would please the king. “In the end it matters not who the queen is,” he told his niece wisely. “It is the king in whom the power of life and death rests. The king, dear girl, though you must never say I said it, was most inordinately fond of your mother when they were young. And he holds a most paternal fondness for her daughters.”

“His wife is just a few years older than I,” Elizabeth murmured.

Lord Cambridge chuckled at her sharp observation. “Something that of course you would never say aloud outside of this hall, dear girl.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Elizabeth said meekly, and then she laughed.

“You will wear pearls with this gown, and only pearls,” he instructed her. “And the pearl-edged French hood with its cream lawn veil, dear girl. You will stand out in such a gown, yet you should not overcome the queen’s coronation garments.”

And at last everything was packed for traveling. Nancy would once more go with her mistress. Realizing this, Albert, the hall steward, came to his mistress and asked if she would permit him to marry the lady of Friarsgate’s tiring woman.

“I must think on it,” Elizabeth told him, and then she took her servant aside privily. “Albert has asked to wed you. Will you have him?” she inquired of Nancy.

Nancy flushed. “He’s a bit older than me, but a man should be older than his wife. And I have never heard evil said of him, mistress. We are equals within the household, though he stands just a bit higher than I do, which is proper. We would, I believe, make a good match.

But I would wait until we have returned from court.”

Elizabeth did not ask if her tiring woman loved Albert. Love was usually not a consideration in such a marriage. “Then you are willing?” she said.

“Aye,” Nancy said. “I am willing.”

“Then we will tell him together.” And she sent for Albert to attend her. “Nancy has told me she is content to wed you, but no banns shall be published until she and I have returned from court, Albert. Is this your wish, Nancy?”

“Aye, mistress. I shall go out into the world one more time, and then return to marry you, Albert,” Nancy said. “If this will satisfy you then we are pledged.”

“I am content then too,” the hall steward said.

Elizabeth took Nancy’s hand and put it into Albert’s. “Go along now,” she told them. “Make your plans for when we return.”

When she told her uncle and Baen they both teased her for being a fool for love, and, laughing, Elizabeth agreed she was. Now they waited for her royal escort to arrive, and even though they expected it, it came as a surprise when the troupe of men-at-arms with their Tudor-rose badges arrived one afternoon. It was already past mid-April.

Captain Yardley presented himself politely, and then told Elizabeth, “We must begin our journey tomorrow, madame. The queen has ordered that we proceed with all possible haste to Greenwich. She is most anxious to see you.” He was a grizzled old soldier who had obviously been in the king’s service for many years.

“I am ready,” Elizabeth told him. “My baggage cart was sent ahead several days ago. We shall stay tomorrow night at Otterly, and after that my uncle, Lord Cambridge, has arranged for my accommodation.”

“Very good, madame,” Captain Yardley said. “A baggage cart would have slowed us down.”

“I am going to court at the queen’s invitation, sir. I cannot bring but one garment. We will meet the cart at Otterly, and after that it is up to your men to guard it. If it takes us several days longer because we are slowed by it, then the queen will forgive me for the honor I will do her by, as her friend, showing to my best advantage,” Elizabeth said sharply. She looked the queen’s captain directly in the eye as she spoke.

“Aye, madame,” he said laconically.
Another high-spirited wench like
the king’s new wife,
he thought.

“Mama go?” young Tom asked in the morning as Elizabeth prepared to depart.

“Aye, but Mama will come home soon, my lad,” she promised him, picking him up and kissing his rosy cheek. “Be a good boy, young Tom.” She set him down, and he toddled off with Sadie, who had graduated from his cradle rocker to his nursemaid along with her mother. Elizabeth felt suddenly overwhelmed. Tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn’t want to leave Friarsgate. She didn’t want to leave her husband and son. Why in the name of heaven had Anne ordered her to court when she knew how much Elizabeth disliked the court?

Well, she told herself, she wasn’t going to learn the answer to her questions until she reached court. With a sigh she mounted her horse.

Lord Cambridge and Will were among the party returning to Otterly.

And Baen had decided to escort his wife that far. “ ’Tis past time I met your sister and her husband again,” he said. “We are, after all, kin.”

Elizabeth had not discouraged his company. “Friarsgate will survive a day or two without us, sir,” she had said.

“If you would prefer I shall remain behind,” he said with utmost seriousness.

“Nay!” And then, seeing that he was teasing her, she swatted out at him. “Scots villain,” she muttered.

“God’s blessed bones!” Banon Meredith Neville gasped to her husband, Robert, as her youngest sister and her husband entered their hall late that afternoon. “I am still amazed by my sister’s giant of a husband.

And a handsome giant at that.” She embraced her sibling, whispering to Elizabeth as she did so, “Is he that big all over?”

“Aye,” Elizabeth murmured low. “Jealous?”

Banon giggled. “Mayhap a little,” she admitted. Then she looked up at Baen. “Welcome to Otterly, brother. I am glad that we are met again. Come, Rob, and greet Elizabeth’s husband.”

“You are every bit as lovely, if not more so, than when I last saw you, mistress Banon,” Baen told her, and he kissed both of her cheeks.

Then he turned to shake his brother-in-law’s hand.

Banon flushed with pleasure at the compliment. He might be a Scot, and a Highlander at that, but his manners were perfect. His mother had taught him well, she thought. “Can you and Will join us for supper, Uncle?” she asked Lord Cambridge.

“Indeed we can,” he replied. “Your sister and her escort must leave at first light, dear girl, and so I shall make my farewells tonight. How odd. I had thought to be envious of your visit to court, Elizabeth, but I find now that as the moment approaches I am most relieved not to be going.”

“Uncle, I cannot believe that,” Banon teased him, and they all laughed.

When the meal had been finished Lord Cambridge took Elizabeth aside to wish her Godspeed. “Be kind to Philippa,” he said quietly.

“Use your own goodwill to help her. You know her devotion to the princess of Aragon, and if Anne Boleyn died tomorrow the king would not have Katherine back. It is a son he wants, and she could not, cannot, supply that. And store up what goodwill you can for yourself and your family, dear girl. Your absence will not be forever.”

“I still do not understand why she wants to see me,” Elizabeth said.

“You are, dear girl, most likely the only true friend Anne Boleyn has ever had. How sad that is, but it is, I suspect, the truth. She is not an easy creature. Treat her with kindness, but come home to us as soon as you can.” Thomas Bolton embraced his youngest niece, kissing both her cheeks, hugging her to his heart. “God and his blessed Mother go with you, dear girl.”

Once again Elizabeth felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyelids.

“Thank you, Uncle,” she managed to say, and she kissed him back.