“I came to please our mother, and to please Uncle Thomas, who really did need an excuse to come south this spring. Did you not, Uncle?”
“I think I shall avoid quarreling with either of you, my darlings,” Lord Cambridge said. “We are here. It is May. Let us enjoy the good times.”
“Philippa”—Elizabeth attempted to placate her elder sibling—“it is just the first day of May. My mishap will be quickly replaced by someone else’s faux pas by the morrow. Let us not war with each other, I beg you.”
“If you do not want a husband, then what good am I to you? To Mother? You asked for the responsibility of Friarsgate, and you have done a fine job of caring for it, if our mother is to be believed, and she is. But I feel a certain obligation to Friarsgate, as it was to have been mine once. You have a duty to supply Friarsgate with the next heir, Elizabeth, and refusing to do so because you do not wish to give up your own authority is both selfish and childish!”
“Ho! Is the pot calling the kettle black, sister? You did precisely what you chose to do to live your own life as you wished to live it. You renounced Friarsgate. How dare you tell me what to do!” Elizabeth cried. “I took up the burden you cast aside.”
“Aye, I did not want Friarsgate, but I do know how to accept my duty and do it well,” Philippa shot back. “Do you think you will be young forever? You will be twenty-two on the twenty-third of this month. You are an old maid, sister. Mother had birthed all of us by the time she reached that age. You are growing long in the tooth, and you must wed soon if you are to have a child of your body to inherit in the next generation. What will happen if you do not? It will go to one of Logan’s lads for want of another. Is that what you want? Mother will have no other choice.”
“The choice of the next heir is not Mother’s,” Elizabeth said quietly. “It is mine.” Aye! She needed a husband, but from what she had seen today there was little hope of finding one among the king’s court. Still, she did not want to quarrel with Philippa, who really was trying to help. She sighed. “I am sorry you were embarrassed by my accident today, sister. I shall endeavor to have no more mishaps while I am here, but know that I shall begin my journey home in June.”
“It is not enough time,” Philippa complained.
“If there is a man I can consider, and who will consider coming north with me, he will be found in that time. But if, as I believe, there is no one here who will suit me, there is no use in my remaining. I will have been gone almost three months by the time I return. Edmund is old now, Philippa. He is no longer used to shouldering the entire burden of Friarsgate, as he did when our mother was away. No one else can but me.”
“Which makes it even more important for us to find you a husband,” Philippa said eagerly. “You need a helpmeet. A woman should not be managing such an estate as yours, Elizabeth. A husband would be more suited to the task, I am certain.”
Lord Cambridge waited for the explosion certain to follow Philippa’s words, but to his surprise it did not come. He actually believed he saw Elizabeth bite her tongue.
The footmen had been lugging pail after pail of steaming water through the dayroom and into the bedchamber. Now Nancy came out to announce to her mistress that her bath was ready, and likely to get cold if Elizabeth did not come quickly.
“I appreciate your kindness, Philippa, but you will understand my adventure has left me chilled and stinking. I must bathe. Go back to your friends. You also, Uncle. I believe it best that I spend the rest of my day in bed recovering from my ordeal.” She smiled sweetly at them both.
Lord Cambridge wasn’t in the least fooled, but he bowed, saying, “I believe, dear girl, that you are absolutely right. By tomorrow all will have blown over. Will is here should you need him. Come, Philippa, my angel. ’Tis May Day, and the celebrations have only just begun.”
“You will be all right?” Philippa’s tone had softened, and she evinced concern for her younger sibling. “Uncle is correct, of course. Few if any will remember your mishap by the morrow. Ohh, I hope Crispin comes soon!” She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, and then, taking Lord Cambridge’s arm, they departed the dayroom.
Elizabeth sighed gustily with her relief. “What a pother Philippa makes over naught,” she said to Nancy. “Did you hear?”
“Enough,” Nancy said. “Gawd! I hope they can find that punt. Them sleeves was beautiful, mistress.” She was a tall, lanky girl with a plain but pretty face. Her braids were nut brown, and her eyes a light blue. Like Elizabeth, she had never before been away from Friarsgate, but she had to admit she was enjoying her adventure. She helped Elizabeth out of the remainder of her sodden garments and into the hot tub. “I’ll take these to the laundress,” she said. “I think they’re salvageable. Are you really going to spend the rest of the day in bed?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Nay, but at least I won’t have to spend it gliding up and down the palace lawns being inspected by snobs and parvenus, being gossiped about and having my wealth speculated upon. I shall rid myself of the river’s stink, re-dress, and sit in Uncle’s gardens listening to the music from the palace.”
Nancy hurried out, and Elizabeth washed first herself, and then her long blond hair, which had been soaked in the river. Climbing from the oak tub, she dried herself off with one of the towels on the warming rack by her fire, then wrapped her head in another towel. Nancy had laid out a clean chemise on the bed, and Elizabeth donned it. Then, sitting by the fire, she unwrapped her hair from the towel and began to rub it dry before the heat of the hearth.
Returning, Nancy came to stand behind her mistress and began to brush the long hair. “’Tis like thistledown,” she noted. “Golden thistledown, and straight as a poker. Now Lady Philippa has all them fine curls, and Mistress Neville’s hair has a bit of a curl to it too, but not yours.” She plied the brush vigorously now as the damp hair dried, becoming thicker with each stroke of her brush.
“It suits my nature,” Elizabeth said, “as curls suit Philippa. She is all fussy and intent on being the perfect courtier.”
“And you are happiest being a wild child,” Nancy teased her mistress.
Elizabeth laughed. “I suppose I am, but I am not irresponsible, nor unmindful of my duties. And before I had to jump into the river to save myself I met two gentlemen, the king, and Mistress Boleyn, Nancy.”
“Ohh,” Nancy said, “was the gentlemen handsome?”
“One is related to me. His name is Rees Jones, and we share a great-grandfather. The other is a Scot. He is King James’s personal messenger, and sent to live at court so that should King Henry need to send to his nephew he has a messenger to do it. Uncle Thomas says he is a spy, though he denied it.” Elizabeth chuckled.
“What was the king like?” Nancy wanted to know.
“Very handsome. Quite tall, with wonderful red-gold hair and a beard. His eyes are small, but they’re quite a brilliant blue. He’s a big man too. And Mistress Boleyn is not at all beautiful, but she is so elegant, and her wit is swift. I quite liked her, but I also felt sorry for her, Nancy. She hides it well, but she is afraid. I sense it.”
“Probably fears for her immortal soul, stealing the queen’s husband away from her,” Nancy said with a country woman’s practicality.
“The queen’s plight is of her own making,” Elizabeth said. “The king needs a son, and she cannot give him one. There must be a new queen.”
“But the old one ain’t dead,” Nancy said, and then she put the hairbrush aside.
