“Nah,” James Hepburn said stoutly. “’Tis grand!”
“Liar!” She laughed, and the others laughed too.
“Your face got all red,” Edmund Hepburn said.
“And your eyes watered,” Tavis, his twin, noted.
“At least I’m man enough to be offered whiskey,” Jamie taunted them. “You two runts have a ways to go.”
“At least our faces are not full of pimples like yours,” Tavis, the bolder of the two twins, replied. Then he took a defensive stance. “Aye, Jamie, come on! Try and hit me if you dare!” He danced mockingly before his brother.
“That is enough!” Rosamund snapped. Then she turned to her daughter. “Sons are more difficult than little girls,” she said. “Remember that.”
“Uncle Thomas does not think a great deal of little girls,” Elizabeth teased her relation mischievously. “He has endured the lack of amenities in my hall all winter rather than remain in his own comfortable house with Banon’s brood of little darlings—or demons, as I have heard them referred to by a certain gentleman.”
“Oh, poor Tom,” Rosamund said sympathetically. “Are they really that bad?”
“Perhaps it is that there are so many of them,” Lord Cambridge said.
“I had three, and you found no fault with them,” Rosamund reminded him. “Indeed, you have spoiled all my girls most shamelessly, dear cousin.”
“Banon’s lasses run constantly. They shriek and quarrel among one another. If Katherine Rose receives a blue ribbon and Thomasina Marie a pink, Katherine Rose wants the pink. But Thomasina Marie wants it too. Then Jemima Anne, Elizabeth Susanne, and Margaret Mary, the littlest girl, all cry because they did not get ribbons at all. Because their charming dunce of a father has forgotten to purchase ribbons all of one color at the fair, and has remembered only the eldest two, who want to argue over colors, while the others weep. It is like that at all times. Banon’s children are never silent, and she seems not to notice it at all. I built myself a private wing when Otterly was reconstructed, but the builder made the error of putting a door between the wings. Neither Banon nor her family has any respect for my privacy,” he grumbled.
“So Uncle Thomas is building an entire new wing at Otterly with no access to the main wings,” Elizabeth said. “He has threatened his builder with murder and mayhem if he returns and finds another door.” She laughed.
“Well enough for you to find it amusing,” Lord Cambridge said, aggrieved. “Your house is quiet. Mine has not been. Still, I adore Banon, and I even adore her brood in moderation. As for Robert Neville, he is most likable, for he is a mild-mannered gentleman. We ride and we play chess together. A most companionable fellow.”
“Will you stop at Otterly on your way south?” Rosamund asked her cousin.
“Nay,” he replied. “We must travel quickly in order to reach London in time for my tailor to make any alterations on the new wardrobe he is bringing me. And we must see if anything must be done to improve Elizabeth’s wardrobe. We will stop at Brierewode, however, for it is on our way.”
“Will you carry some messages to Philippa for me?” Rosamund asked him. Despite the fact that Philippa’s renunciation of Friarsgate had hurt her deeply, Rosamund still loved her eldest daughter. It did not matter that Elizabeth was the perfect Friarsgate heiress. Rosamund had always wanted Owein’s eldest child to have the estate. Especially after she had lost their son.
“Of course,” Thomas Bolton replied. “And I shall bring you back all the latest gossip from not only the court, but from Philippa’s family as well,” he promised her.
The manor priest, Father Mata, having arrived to join them, said the blessing before the meal was served. Afterwards Elizabeth was sent to her chamber to be dressed in one of her beautiful court gowns. She chose a dress with a rose-colored silk bodice decorated with small sparkling crystals, and a skirt in a slightly deeper shade of the color. The neckline was squared and edged with the crystals, and the full sleeves had a deep cuff, turned back to display more of the sparkling crystals. The French hood on Elizabeth’s head had a crystal-decorated edging, and the pale pink veil attached to it was made of sheer silk shot through with bits of silver.
“Oh, my!” Rosamund exclaimed. She had never seen Elizabeth in such finery. Then she said, “Let me see the shoes, daughter.”
Elizabeth stuck a foot from beneath her skirts to reveal a square-toed shoe covered in pink silk and decorated with crystals.
“How beautiful!” her mother breathed. She turned to Lord Cambridge. “I remember when you and I went to court, Tom, and you insisted on having a wonderful new wardrobe made for me. And then Philippa, and Banon. Now Elizabeth. How good you have been to us, cousin.” Her eyes grew misty with her remembrances.
“Such shoes hurt my feet,” Elizabeth complained, breaking the mood, “but Uncle Thomas says I cannot wear my boots, even though they would hardly show beneath all these skirts. He says my feet will be displayed when I dance. But I don’t dance.”
Thomas Bolton paled. “God’s nightshirt!” he cried, his hand going to his heart in a dramatic gesture. “I knew there was something I had forgotten. I have not taught her to dance, and she must know how to dance. The king always expects the ladies at court to dance. Why he danced with you, dear Rosamund! And he danced with Philippa too. How could I have forgotten such an important element of Elizabeth’s education?”
“Oh, Uncle,” Elizabeth attempted to soothe him. “The king will not notice me. It does not matter if I dance or I do not dance.”
“My dear girl,” Lord Cambridge replied, “the king will most certainly notice you. You are young and slender and fair, which he has always liked best in a woman. And you are Rosamund Bolton’s daughter. Remember that your mother’s friendship with the king goes back to their shared youth at his father’s court. I will have to introduce you to his majesty. If I did not I should be in grave breach of etiquette, and though many things have been said of me, it has never been suggested that I lacked the most exquisite of manners,” Thomas Bolton said. “You must learn to dance! And as your mother is here it is the perfect time. She and I will demonstrate some of the court dances for you. Then we will try together, for I am an excellent dancer, dear girl, as you will see.”
“We need music,” Rosamund reminded her cousin.
“I will fetch some of the lads who are skilled in such an art,” Maybel said, getting slowly to her feet. “They cannot play as finely as those at court, but they will do.” She moved off on her errand.
Alexander Hepburn grinned at his half sister. “So you’re to learn to dance, Elizabeth? ’Twill be vastly entertaining, I’ve nae a doubt.”
Elizabeth smiled sweetly at him, and then said to their mother, “Do you not think Alex should learn to dance, Mama? While Uncle Thomas partners me, you should partner your son. Certainly you do not want him deficient in the social graces, for he might go to his own king’s court one day, as you and Logan did.”
