“Costumes?” She was surprised. “I thought I was to wear a gown with the masque.” But then she laughed aloud, for knowing Thomas Bolton, she should have known better. Of course he would costume them. “What has he done?” she asked Will. “I know the masques are sheep, but what will we wear?”
“It is quite amazing, Mistress Elizabeth,” William Smythe said excitedly, “but I think you must ask your uncle. I do not want to spoil his surprise.”
“Then I will wait up for him to come home,” Elizabeth said.
William Smythe felt better. Mistress Elizabeth always cheered him up just by her presence. “Shall I tell Cook you will be expecting an evening meal?” he asked her.
She nodded. “We’ll eat together, Will,” Elizabeth told him.
He chuckled. “You’ll get nothing more out of me, Mistress Elizabeth,” he told her, giving her one of his rare smiles.
When Thomas Bolton arrived home just before midnight he found his secretary and his niece engaged in an exciting game of Hare and Hounds. And William was actually laughing. “So this is where you have gotten to, dear girl,” he said by way of greeting. “You were missed this evening, and had Flynn Stewart not been in plain sight the entire time I fear your reputation could have suffered damage. ’Twas said he was seen with his arms about you, and kissing you this afternoon by the river. Is it so?” He tossed his gloves aside and, going to the sideboard, poured himself a goblet of wine before joining them. “Who is winning?”
“I am,” William Smythe said. “You know how proficient I am at Hare and Hounds, my lord. Although Mistress Elizabeth is a far better player than you are.”
Lord Cambridge looked just slightly aggrieved, and then he realized that Elizabeth had not answered his query. “Dear girl?” he pressed her.
“Flynn Stewart was teaching me how to use a longbow. There is to be an archery contest for the ladies the day of my fete. I have never learned, and to be polite I thought I should be able to join in with the other women, Uncle. His arms were about me so he might guide my first few efforts. Does nothing, even the most innocent of pastimes, escape the vigilant eye of the gossips?” She was annoyed.
“And was there a kiss, dear girl?” he queried her further.
Elizabeth’s irritation was answer in itself. “Yes, when I succeeded in hitting the target several times instead of sending my arrows into the river,” she admitted. “But it was hardly earth-shattering, or even worthy of mention, Uncle.”
“The gentleman flushed when teased about it, dear girl,” Lord Cambridge said. “And he would neither deny nor confirm the accusation.”
“Because it was not important, Uncle. A congratulatory buss between friends was all it was, although there are others who would wish it otherwise for gossip’s sake,” Elizabeth replied.
“Yet you departed the court afterwards,” Thomas Bolton said.
“Because I was bored, Uncle. The king is charming. Mistress Boleyn is delightful, the intrigue is fascinating, but I have no real part in it, nor do I want any. People wonder at Mistress Boleyn’s giving a fete in honor of my birthday. I do not. She is as bored as I am, Uncle. If I had stayed I should have been forced to listen to Philippa and her friends. I chose not to spend another moment doing that. So I came home and had a well-cooked meal and good wine and good company in your Will. But I have remained up awaiting you, Uncle, because I understand that you are having costumes made for us, and not just masques. Tell me!”
Lord Cambridge chortled. “Dear girl, we shall be the talk of the court for months to come. Upon reflection I decided that the sheep masques were simply not enough. You are aware that there are many here who mock your background. Not before the king, mind you, but among themselves. Small-minded, mean-spirited creatures with noble names, and not a penny to those names. Still, they consider themselves better than most others. How they mocked Wolsey for his humble roots, though they feared him for his power. And they are threatened by those wealthy newcomers at court who can offer the king their intellect to be used to his benefit, and not just a family tree to be admired by a king whose family they consider upstarts.
“So I considered, dear girl, that it might be amusing to rub the noses of these noble ladies and fellows in with the truth of what you are, and your pride in it. The king and Mistress Anne will understand the jest, and be diverted by it. Our costumes will be almost identical. We shall wear sleeveless jerkins made from sheepskin with the curly wool side out to be seen. Our doublets shall be fashioned from silk, with tufts of wool showing through the slashings.” He chuckled. “Yours shall be creamy white. But mine shall be black, for I am to be a black sheep.” And he laughed aloud. “Our breeches will also be slashed, with wool tufts showing through. Our stockings shall be silk, and our shoes shining black leather simulated to appear like sheep’s hooves. Our masques, yours of gold, and mine of silver, shall have sheep faces. I shall sport marvelous curved horns on mine, but you, dear girl, shall wear bows in your hair.”
“Uncle! This is outrageously clever of you! We shall indeed be the talk of the court for months to come. But you must not tell Philippa. In the end she will relent and join us in her beautiful peacock’s garb. But she is also astute enough to understand the jest. And she will not be pleased that I am showing my legs. ’Tis quite daring of you to suggest it, but then you knew I would do it.”
“Dear girl, it will be your last hurrah, and I wanted you to have some fun out of this little adventure. I do not know why I agreed with your mother that coming to court was right for you. For Philippa and Banon, aye, but not for you, Elizabeth. I frankly do not know what we will do about finding you a husband, but this is not the place for such a venture, and I apologize to you.” He took her two hands in his and kissed them.
“Uncle, you need not come to me on bended knee. I should have refused my mother’s demand. Still and all it has been interesting, and I am happy to have met King Henry and poor Mistress Boleyn.”
“And Flynn Stewart?” he inquired slyly.
Elizabeth laughed. “Was I ever a naive maiden, Uncle?” she asked him.
“Never,” he agreed, “and yet, dear girl, he is very handsome.”
“Aye,” she agreed. “It does not hurt my eyes to look upon him, but he is far too bold to suit me.” She would never admit that Flynn had caught a bit of her fancy.
“Bold men are more interesting, dear girl,” Thomas Bolton remarked.
“I have learned what I waited to learn, Uncle,” Elizabeth said. “Now I shall go to bed and dream of Friarsgate and my sheep.” She arose from the game table. “I must concede to you, Will. You were going to beat me anyway.” Then she kissed her uncle and departed the hall.
“You have truly given up the hunt?” William Smythe wanted to know.
Lord Cambridge nodded. “I had hoped that I could perhaps snag the son of one of these nouveau riche; that there would be a father more willing to lose a lad to the north than to let him take his chances at court. But they come to the court because they see opportunity, and they are ambitious. There are the younger daughters of the nobility for them to wed, for the nobility is usually poorer than they are, and willing to sell their lasses. Each family profits by the arrangement. Three years ago when I was last here I did not notice these changes, but I see them clearly now. Elizabeth may have a large estate, and she may be wealthy, but no one wants to leave the court to live in Cumbria. If she were happy to let a husband remain here, and he were happy to allow her to continue to manage Friarsgate, perhaps. But that is not a marriage, and Elizabeth would never settle for such an arrangement, nor would her mother. Alas, Will, I reached my peak with Philippa. Marrying her into the ranks of the nobility was an incredible achievement. I cannot do it again. There must be a man for Elizabeth, but he is not here.”
“The Scot will not do?” William Smythe asked.
