Her tiring woman appeared in the door between the chambers. “Yes, mistress?”
“Has my uncle gone yet?” she asked.
“It ain’t noon, mistress,” Nancy replied. “But I think he is just up, for I saw Master Will fetching his tray.”
“Go and ask him if I may speak with him,” Elizabeth said.
Nancy hurried off, and Elizabeth slid from her bed. Going to the window, she looked out onto the garden below and saw her sister making her way towards the wall gate. Philippa would not miss a moment of the May court, which would be over in just a few more days.Good,Elizabeth thought.She will make my excuses, and I am free for now. Yes! I want to go riding. Does no one ride at Greenwich? I haven’t been on my horse since we arrived here.
Nancy returned. “His lordship says to come along, mistress,” she said.
Elizabeth, in her long chemise, hurried from her own rooms down the hall to her uncle’s quarters. She found him sitting up in his great bed awaiting his breakfast.
“Good morning, dear girl!” he greeted her cheerfully. “Has Philippa gone yet?”
“Aye, after coming to lecture me.” Elizabeth chuckled, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Uncle, I don’t want to go to court today. I want to go riding. Can we?”
“An excellent suggestion, dear girl,” he agreed. “Aye, ’twill give us a respite from the tedium I find the court has become. Perhaps I am growing older, but I find court less amusing than I once did. I will be glad to depart it.”
“Philippa says we cannot go until the king departs. Is that so?”
“Regretfully, aye, it is,” he told her.
“But we don’t have to dance attendance every day, do we?” she asked.
“Nay,” he responded. “I know a lovely path by the river where we may ride this afternoon, dear girl. Ahh, Will, at last! I am perishing from hunger.”
Elizabeth saw the small smile flicker across William Smythe’s face as he set the tray upon Lord Cambridge’s lap and tucked a napkin into the top of his nightshirt. “Cook wanted to have the bread absolutely hot and fresh for you,” he said. “The loaf has just come from the ovens, my lord.”
“He takes such good care of me, dear girl. Does he not?” Thomas Bolton said.
“Indeed, Uncle, he does,” Elizabeth agreed, snitching a piece of bacon from her uncle’s plate. “We are going riding this afternoon, Will. Can you join us? You have worked very hard, dashing back and forth to London several times over these last few weeks while Uncle and I have enjoyed ourselves at court. We will soon be returning home. Come and ride out with us today.”
“I should like that,” William Smythe said.
“Have you told Uncle about the kitten yet?” Elizabeth asked. “Will found the most adorable kitten hiding in our barge. He doesn’t know how it got there, but we’re taking it back north with us. We call it Domino because it is black and white. I have promised him if his Pussums does not like the little fellow I shall give it a home.”
“Pussums is an elderly lady now, and will probably resent the young fellow,” Lord Cambridge noted. “Still, I have grown used to having a cat about me, and now there will be one for each lap of an evening. If you want another cat, dear girl, you shall have to find your own, I fear.”
“Uncle! You are so good,” Elizabeth said, and Thomas Bolton chuckled.
She left him, and Lord Cambridge finished his meal before dressing for their ride. The three horses were awaiting them at the stables, and they rode out into the countryside surrounding Greenwich. At one point Elizabeth raced her horse ahead of her two companions and over a hillock, while they walked their beasts sedately behind her.
“Mistress Elizabeth seems a bit sad today,” William Smythe noted.
“I believe given the smallest bit of encouragement she could have fallen in love with the Scots king’s messenger, Flynn Stewart,” Thomas Bolton noted. “He is more a gentleman than many, Will. But of course unsuitable.”
“Because he is a Scot,” Will said.
“Aye, and yet nay,” Lord Cambridge said. “If he were not the king’s half brother he might very well suit. I had thought to find Elizabeth a good English husband, but given the Friarsgate inheritance, I realize that may no longer be possible. What is left to us, dear boy? We must either force her into a marriage with one of our northern English, or she finds a Scot who suits her. But Flynn Stewart’s loyalty to the Scots king is too great. Should there be another war, and eventually there will be, he could not remain neutral. Friarsgate has always managed to remain dispassionate in the face of these disputes between England and Scotland. Its isolation has kept it safe from marauding armies. Perhaps a Scots husband, a plain Scot with no important connections, a Scot of good family, would suffice.”
“You have someone in mind, my lord?” Will asked, and knew the answer before his master even spoke. Thomas Bolton had obviously given a great deal of thought to this problem of Elizabeth Meredith and the Friarsgate generations to come after her.
“Mayhap, dear boy, I do, but I am not quite ready to reveal all,” Lord Cambridge said. His look was thoughtful.
“You have said naught to Mistress Elizabeth, I assume,” Will spoke.
“Nay, nor will I. Nor will I speak with my cousin Rosamund yet. I must see if this possible match is the right one for Elizabeth before I even bring it up, dear boy, and you must keep my secret.”
