“Perhaps we will meet again,” Sir Owein said, ending their conversation. Then he turned to the queen. “Thank you, your highness, for allowing me to speak with the Lady Rosamund. What reply shall I bring to your good lord?”
“Tell the king I shall eat in my chambers this evening. It is surely a son I carry, for the burden is heavy this time,” the queen answered him. “Tell my lord husband that I thank him and will welcome him in my chambers should he care to come.”
Sir Owein bowed and departed the chamber.
“He likes you!” Meg said gleefully.
“He was only being polite,” Rosamund answered.
“He likes you!”the princess repeated, a knowing twinkle in her blue eyes.
“What difference does it make?” Katherine of Aragon whispered. “They will choose whom they please when it is time to marry her off. Best she not set her sights on one man when they will surely choose another.”
“Rosamund is not important like we are, Kate,” Meg said.
“There is where you are wrong,” the Spanish princess replied. “Rosamund’s lands are in a strategic location. The man they choose for her will surely be the man they best feel can defend that piece of England. And, too, Rosamund is rich in sheep and cattle. Her person with its lands and goods will not be given lightly, nor will it be given to an unimportant knight with no significant connections. You are wrong to encourage Rosamund to look to Sir Owein. If her heart is engaged there, what agony for her, and misery for the man who is finally chosen to be her husband.”
“I cannot help but be a romantic,” Margaret Tudor responded.
“You are wedding with the King of the Scots in order to keep peace between your two lands,” Kate said. “There is nothing more to marriage than one’s duty, as you should know better than most.”
“Wed first, love afterward, is what my grandmama says,” Meg said pertly. “I shall make James Stuart fall in love with me! Just wait and see if I do not, Kate!”
“For your sake, I hope it is so,” the Princess of Aragon said.
“Did you love my brother Arthur?” Meg demanded to know.
“He had charm,” Kate said slowly, “and he was very intelligent, but he was young yet, Meg. I am not certain he would not have made a better priest than a husband, but we shall never know now. Poor Arthur lies in his grave.” She piously crossed herself.
“They say that my father will wed you to my brother Henry,” Meg murmured low. “Henry looks at pretty women like a cat contemplating the finch. Papa meant him for a priest, but Henry was never suited for it. And while he stands well over six feet tall now, I believe he is still too young to bed a woman, though I should not doubt if he has begun to try.”
“Meg!”Kate blushed.
“He is very bold and very proud,” Rosamund noted, “but he is also very handsome, I think.”
“God’s blood!” Meg swore softly so her mother could not hear her. “Do not ever tell Hal he is handsome. He is peacock enough as it is, Rosamund. And his arrogance is boundless! You should have been raised in a nursery with him. Praise God I am no longer there! And Mary is safe from him now, too, as papa keeps him so close.”
“Why does he do that?” Rosamund wondered.
“Henry must now learn to be a king,” Kate said.
“Nay, papa will not teach him to be king,” Meg said. “He keeps him close because he is afraid he will die, and then papa will have no son to follow him. Papa does not like Henry. He adored Arthur and invested all the love he had with our eldest brother. That love died with Arthur. I think papa almost hates Henry for being alive and being so healthy when Arthur is dead and was never very strong,” Meg concluded.
“You are too harsh in your judgment of your father,” Kate protested. “He is a good and devout man, and has always been good to me.”
“You have not grown up with him,” Meg countered. “Aye, he can be kind, and he surely loves our mother, but he can also be cruel. I hope you will never see that side of him, Kate. Remember, your papa has not paid all of your dower monies yet. For now my father considers the alliance he made with your parents through your marriage to Arthur still viable. He thinks to wed you to Henry when my brother is older. But if your father does not send the monies owed, my father will cast you aside and look to France for my brother’s wife.”
“Then I will go home,” Kate said pragmatically.
“My father will never let you go until he is absolutely certain you can be of no further use to him,” Meg said. “And, too, my father is noted for being tightfisted. He would never return the dower portion that has already been sent. I expect he seeks the rest of it in order to pay my dower portion to King James so he does not have to dip into his own personal funds,” she said with a laugh.
They remained at Windsor, that great stone edifice, for almost a month. The king and the court hunted daily, but Rosamund remained by the queen’s side for most of her days. Elizabeth was pleased to learn that the young royal ward could read. So Rosamund read to her mistress from a Book of Hours with small poems and prayers written in Latin. Maybel spent her time turning her mistress’ few gowns into more fashionable garments with the help of Tillie, who having been with the royal house for all of her life, was very knowledgeable about the etiquette of dressing for court and knew the most current fashions.
They departed Windsor in early December to return to Richmond for the Christmas season, which was known to be the king and queen’s favorite holiday. The Twelve Days of Christmas did not begin until the eve of Christmas mass. The customs were much like those at Friarsgate, except on a far greater scale. The number twelve played an important role. There was twelve of everything. Great footed iron candelabra covered in gold gilt, twelve in number—with twelve graceful arms, each burning twelve beeswax candles—were set about the Great Hall. Twelve enormous marble urns, each filled with twelve bunches of green holly, each bunch numbering twelve sprigs of the plant, tied with silver and gold ribbons and full of bright red berries, had been placed about the chamber strategically. The four great fireplaces held enormous Yule logs.
In the king’s hall a green line called theChristmas Thresholdhad been drawn. The feast, Meg explained, would not begin until the Lucky Bird stepped over the threshold and into the hall to dance. They waited, almost sick with excitement. The Venerable Margaret had told her son and his wife in her firm but quiet tones that if they wished to continue to mourn Prince Arthur that was their decision, but it was Christmas, and she wanted the young people to enjoy themselves. Particularly as her favorite, Margaret, would not be with them for another Christmas.
So the princess was garbed in an elegant gown of medium blue velvet and cloth of gold. Her beautiful red-gold hair was loose and held only by a crespinette of gold and pearls. Kate had chosen to wear a fine purple velvet trimmed in marten, her thick auburn hair modestly plaited beneath a sheer gold veil. Although hardly as richly garbed, Rosamund felt very grand in her black velvet skirt, the black silk gold-beaded bodice that Meg had given her, and her new white sarcenet sleeves. Her own auburn hair was neatly plaited into a single braid, and she, like Meg, wore a crespinette of gold wire, and small freshwater pearls that the queen had given her.
