“Oh, dear!” Elizabeth murmured.
Rosamund grinned conspiratorially. “Heed my advice, Elizabeth. Today.” Then she kissed her daughter. “Farewell, my darling. I am content that I finally leave Friarsgate in two pairs of most excellent hands.”
“Because of Baen?” Elizabeth said with a small smile.
“Aye, but also because Friarsgate now has a new heir, and the hope of more to come,” Rosamund Bolton Hepburn said with a smile.
Chapter 16
Ayear and a half had passed since young Thomas Hay’s baptism. Friarsgate was locked in another winter. Candlemas had passed, and the lambs were being born once more in the February snows. Elizabeth and Baen were locked in a struggle to keep the manor safe and prosperous, for this particular winter was proving a cruel one. They were therefore very surprised when on the last snowy day of the month a messenger arrived at their door. As he was brought into the hall by Albert, who took his cloak, Elizabeth saw that the man wore the royal livery. A sense of foreboding gripped her.
“Come in, sir, and welcome,” she greeted him, signaling a servant for wine.
The messenger came directly to her and bowed low. “Have I the honor of addressing the lady of Friarsgate?” he asked.
“I am she,” Elizabeth replied.
“I bring you a message from the queen, madame,” the messenger responded.
“Queen Katherine? What can she possibly want with me?” Elizabeth said aloud, voicing her thought.
“Nay, madame. The princess of Aragon is no longer queen. ’Tis Queen Anne from whom I come.” He reached into his doublet and drew forth a packet, handing it to Elizabeth with another bow.
“You will be hungry, sir, and tired,” Elizabeth said as she accepted the packet. “Albert will show you to the kitchens for a hot meal, and then he will give you a warm bed space here in the hall. You must remain with us until the weather clears.”
“I was instructed to return directly from you with an answer to the queen,” the messenger told Elizabeth.
The lady of Friarsgate nodded. “Of course,” she said, “but you shall not go until the storm is over, sir.”
“Thank you, madame,” the messenger said and, turning away, followed Albert out of the hall.
“Queen Anne?” Baen looked puzzled.
“My only friend at court, Anne Boleyn. She did vow she would be queen one day,” Elizabeth said slowly. “I shall not know anything until I have read the letter she has sent to me.” She looked down at the packet in her hand for a long moment. Then she broke the red wax seal and unfolded the oiled parchment. There was Anne’s familiar careless scrawl. Elizabeth focused her gaze on the words.
I am his wife as I said I would be. And I am to be crowned in June. I will tell you all when I see you, and you cannot refuse my command. I am your queen now. I am surrounded by the ambitious, and those who formerly professed to despise me now toady to me in an effort to gain my favor. I pretend to give it, but you know me better, dear Elizabeth. I need your friendship now more than I have ever needed it. But I do not beg. You are commanded to court, my lady of Friarsgate. I want you here in time for my coronation, and other things. You will arrive no later than the twentieth day of May. We will be at Greenwich as we always are. Return my messenger with word of your plans. Anne R.
Elizabeth reread the letter once, and then again. Her face was pale with her distress. If there was one place in the world she did not want to be it was court.
“What does it say?” Baen’s voice broke her thoughts.
“I am commanded to court,” Elizabeth said softly.
“By whom?” he demanded to know.
“By Queen Anne. He has married her, which means he has obtained his divorce from Queen Katherine, poor foolish lady,” Elizabeth said. “Philippa must be beside herself, and I think it odd she did not write to me or our mother. Certainly a messenger would have stopped by here on his way to Claven’s Carn. Knowing my oldest sister, she is being loyal to the end, yet torn by the situation because of her sons’ careers. Philippa is very ambitious for her lads.”
“You will not go, of course,” Baen said.
“Nay, I will go, husband. I have been commanded to court, and there is no excuse for refusing a royal command,” Elizabeth told him. “I do not want to go, but I will.” She sighed. “How like Anne to demand my presence because she is feeling alone. She is a strange creature. Her heart is good, but few know it. Yet she will demand my presence without any thought for how my life will be conflicted.”
“You were friends with her? I have heard her called the king’s whore,” Baen said.
“Nay, she was not his whore. Had she been, Queen Katherine might still have her place, for the king is a fickle man, and should have discarded Anne long since, as he did her sister, Mary. But he does need a legitimate son, and refused even to consider the princesses who are available because of his passion for Anne Boleyn,” Elizabeth said.
“Does he not love her?” Baen asked.
“I do not believe this king capable of the kind of love we share, that my mother and my sisters share with their husbands. He has but one paramount desire, and that is for a legitimate son and heir. He has proved himself capable of siring a son with Bessie Blount, and many say Mary Boleyn’s son is his. The king and his counselors, of course, deny that paternity, for to admit it would make any marriage with Mistress Anne null and void on the basis of consanguinity, and any child she bore him bastard. I think it is very possible, although she says it not in so many words, that Anne may already be with child.”
