“But you will go,” Banon said.
“Nay, I will not,” Thomas Bolton replied, surprising them. “I shall go to Friarsgate as soon as the snow is gone, and Elizabeth will tell me then what it is she desires of me. Fortunately styles have changed little, and the gowns made for her last time will do for this visit, with alterations, of course. Motherhood does tend to enlarge a lady’s girth,” he murmured diplomatically.
“Indeed, Uncle, it does,” Banon told him with a laugh. She was almost plump now with her many children, but still quite pretty.
“And I shall have Will arrange for her accommodation along her route. She will be going to Greenwich without a doubt. She will be fine, dear Banon. She is the lady of Friarsgate. She has a husband, and she goes to court at the request of the queen, her good friend. Who knows what advantage that will give her, as it certainly gave your mother?”
“Philippa must be furious.” Banon chortled mischievously.
Lord Cambridge laughed too. “Aye. Now for her sons’ sakes she must eat a rather large slice of humble pie, I fear,” he said. “But she will. If Philippa learned one thing from your mother it is that family is everything. And since this new queen favors her, Elizabeth must help smooth your sister’s new path. If not for Philippa, then for her lads. Who knows? Having Philippa in her debt may be of use to Elizabeth one day.”
“I should be terrified to have Philippa in my debt,” Banon said. “I can only imagine how very grand she is now after all these years as a countess.”
“She was quite charming when we saw her two years ago,” Thomas Bolton said.
“Aye,” Banon said shrewdly, “while there was still hope that her patroness would regain her vaunted position. But now? Uncle, I shudder to imagine her state.”
He smiled wisely. “Philippa, like Rosamund, is a survivor, dear girl.”
“When must Elizabeth go south?” Banon asked.
“Baen does not say, but certainly as soon as spring breaks,” he replied. “I will depart for Friarsgate in another few days, the weather permitting. I shall learn everything once there so that when I return I can tell you. And Elizabeth will, of course, stop here on her journey south, so you may speak privily with her then,” Thomas Bolton said. Then he stood. “I must return to my own wing and tell dear Will all that has happened. He will be perishing with curiosity, as would I were our positions reversed, which—thank God—they are not.” He departed the hall.
“The women in your family do have a knack for making friends with the mighty,” Robert Neville noted to his wife. “I am very glad you never did, dear heart. I should not be happy if you were commanded to court.”
“Nor would I,” Banon admitted. “Poor Elizabeth. I can only imagine how much she hates even the thought of her visit. Uncle says she was most unhappy at court but for the kindness of Anne Boleyn. Yet much evil is spoken of this woman even here in the north so far from court.”
“Blame that on Northumberland and his family,” Robert Neville said astutely. “The old earl always blamed Anne Boleyn for his son’s unhappy marriage. He claimed she put a curse on Lord Percy’s union because she could not wed him, when the truth was that the king forbade the match because he wanted the lady for himself.”
Banon shuddered. “Too much intrigue, Rob. I am glad I was overshadowed by Philippa during my tenure at court. You are the only thing good that came from my stay.” She smiled at him lovingly. “You and our marriage and all of our children.”
Robert Neville put an arm about his wife. “Thanks to you I far exceeded my family’s expectations, Banon,” he told her, returning her smile. “Who would have expected a younger son in a minor branch of the Nevilles to wed an heiress? Certainly not my kin.” He chuckled.
Banon laughed. “Oh, Rob,” she told him, “I hope it is not wrong to be so happy! I want Elizabeth to be as happy with her Scot. I must ask Uncle to see if Baen will ride as far as Otterly with Elizabeth. I can only imagine how furious this royal command has made her.”
But strangely, while annoyed to have her life disrupted, Elizabeth was not angry. Anne Boleyn was a very proud woman. The proudest Elizabeth had certainly ever known. If she wanted Elizabeth with her, there was a very good reason for it.Our acquaintance was not a long one,the lady of Friarsgate considered,but a strong friendship was forged between us. I will go to her. I wrote to her when I wed. I wrote to her when young Tom was born. She even sent him a fine silver ladle for a baptism gift. Her purse was never great, so I know that was a sacrifice for her. I do not like the court, but I do like Anne. She will not keep me long.
Elizabeth and Nancy began unpacking the beautiful garments that Thomas Bolton had had made for her several years ago. Her bosom had increased in size, and she had gained at least a half inch in the waist with her son’s birth. They set to work altering the gowns, and Elizabeth hoped that styles had not changed greatly since her last visit to court. She wished she had Thomas Bolton’s advice, for he would surely know. She was not unhappy, therefore, when Lord Cambridge arrived at her door some two weeks after the royal messenger had gone his way back to court.
“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.
