Baen shook his head. “I thought you despised the court, Elizabeth. Did you not swear you would never return?”
“I do, and I did,” Elizabeth admitted, “but the choice has been taken from my hands, Baen. The queen commands. I must obey.”
“Could you not plead your belly?” he said hopefully.
“I wish I could,” she replied, “but I cannot.”
“When will you go?” He did not look happy.
“Certainly not until late April,” Elizabeth said.
“You must get your uncle to accompany you,” Baen decided.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Nay. Not this time. Besides, he has become more and more content to remain at Otterly. I know what I face this time. When I send the messenger back to the queen I shall ask that she send me an escort to bring me to Greenwich, for I cannot travel alone.”
“I should go with you,” he said.
“And who would steward Friarsgate if you did? Edmund cannot take the burden up ever again, Baen, and you know it. Besides, what would you possibly do while I am dancing attendance on the queen? You are not a courtier, and the only Scots there are those attached to King James’s ambassador,” Elizabeth said.
“Are you ashamed of me, lass?” he asked quietly.
“Nay! And how can you even ask such a question of me, husband? I love you, Baen, and I am proud to be your wife. I picked you for myself, did I not? I am not going to court to pay a social call upon the king and his queen; I am going to comfort my friend, who, for all her bravado and temper tantrums, is obviously frightened. Long ago when my mother was a girl at the court of King Henry VII, she was befriended by Queen Margaret and the Princess of Aragon. They were of an age together in the house of the king’s mother. And afterwards, when the princess was ignored and frightened, abandoned by all, and left destitute even by her own father, the king of Spain, my mother sent her small purses to aid her survival.
“This is the basis of my family’s friendship with Katherine of Aragon. This is how my eldest sister gained her place in the queen’s household, and thus was able to climb into the ranks of the nobility herself. But when I went to court several years ago the queen was already out of favor. I did not even pay my respects, for she was gone then. Unlike my sisters, who enjoyed the court, I felt gauche and very much out of place. I could not control my tongue, which is what brought me to Anne’s attention. She is clever herself, and likes clever friends. She befriended me, Baen, and for the short time I remained at court that friendship made my life quite pleasant. Not so much so that I did not long to return home as quickly as possible, of course. But at least I was no longer sad.
“But while the king favored Anne, many at court—my own sister included—did not. They were all sure the king would tire of her as he had many others. Most could barely conceal their scorn for her, and went out of their way to slight her when they dared. But I judged Anne Boleyn on the girl herself. Her family and her pedigree meant nothing to me. I liked her. She was clever and witty, unlike most others but a few. She made the king laugh with her keen and shrewd intelligence. She is musical, and the king loves music. She is a wonderful dancer, and the king loves nothing better than a good dancer. And seeing another girl come to court who like herself did not really fit in, she reached out to me and brought me into her circle. She treated me with kindness. She is vain, and she is selfish. She is determined in her desires and her need to have her own way, but we became friends, Baen. Like my mother I place a great store by loyalty. My friend, the queen, has called for me. I will go, and that is the end of it, my dearest husband.”
“How long do you think you will be gone from me?” he asked her, and he reached out to bring her into the circle of his strong arms, his lips brushing the top of her blond head. “I cannot bear the thought of being without you,” Baen told her.
“Do not say it!” Elizabeth cried softly. “I must obey, and yet I hate having to leave you, to leave our wee Tom, to leave Friarsgate.” She buried her head in his chest.
“How long?” he repeated.
She shook her head. “I do not know. Anne can be difficult and quixotic when she wants her own way. Hopefully my presence will calm her, and I shall be able to leave her again after a few weeks.”
“If you do not return within a reasonable time I will come after you,” Baen told his wife. “This queen has the world at her feet, especially if she carries the king’s heir. She does not need my wife more than our son and I do.”
“I love it when you are so masterful,” Elizabeth teased him with a small giggle.
Baen chuckled. “Are you wheedling me, wife?” he teased back.
“You are becoming too clever for me, husband,” she replied.
“Nay,” he said softly. “I shall never be as clever as you, Elizabeth.”
“If you know that,” she responded quickly, “then you have at least become wise, my darling, and that could make you dangerous.” Her hazel-green eyes twinkled mischievously up at him.
His hand slipped wickedly into her shirt to caress a plump breast. He tweaked the nipple while pressing kisses onto her face. Slowly, slowly he pulled her back until he felt the seat of the chair facing the fire against the back of his legs. He sat, bringing her onto his lap as he did so. He nibbled on her earlobe, whispering to her in very explicit terms exactly what he intended on doing to her in the next few minutes.
Elizabeth felt the heat rush into her cheeks at the murmured words, but she was already growing weak with her need. Had she known the delicious delights of the marriage bed, she thought fuzzily, she would have married far younger than she did. But perhaps it would not have been so wonderful with another man. Perhaps it was just because her husband was a lusty Scot named Baen.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he said, his hand now sliding up her leg, his fingers slowly caressing the inside of her silky thigh.
“Everything you promised me,” she answered him breathlessly.
“Everything?” he asked her.
“Everything!”
