“How did it happen?” Sir Owein inquired as he walked toward the palace with his pretty burden.
“On the tennis court,” Rosamund managed to say. “I fell, trying to hit a ball.”
“Tennis is too rough a game for a lady,” Sir Owein said.
“I am inclined to agree,” Rosamund told him. “You have come with the king?”
He nodded. “He has reassigned me to the Countess of Richmond’s household,” Sir Owein said. “He says with the queen gone from him he has not the need for so large a staff any longer. He is most melancholy and seems to miss her more every day. I am retained merely because of my long service to the House of Tudor, because I am Welsh. Were it not so I should be returned to my family like several others already have been.”
“Would they be glad to see you?” she asked him.
He laughed, and the sound was almost bitter. “I think not, unless I came bearing riches. It has been so long since I have seen any of them, I doubt if I should recognize them.”
“That is sad,” Rosamund said. “I should be truly unhappy if I had no one to welcome me home.”
“My birthplace has not been home to me since I was six,” the knight responded. “I do not remember it at all. I think more of Caernavon Castle, which was Sir Jasper’s seat, as home. Now, my lady Rosamund, you should not be kissing and cuddling with Prince Henry.”
“Sir!” She tried to sound outraged.
“You cannot deny it,” he said with a chuckle. “My sweet Rosamund of Friarsgate, I speak for your own good. If you expect to be given a husband, you cannot allow your good name to be stained.”
“All he wanted was a single kiss,” Rosamund muttered. “There is no crime in a single kiss.”
“Now listen to me, my lass,” Sir Owein said in a stern voice. “Prince Henry has been fondling servant girls since he was barely into breeks. When he turned eleven his friends gave him a whore. It was an unspoken secret throughout the court. The prince has never looked back since. He likes women. A single kiss? His hand was in your bodice, Rosamund! You’d have shortly been on your back, I guarantee you. ’Tis the conquest that fascinates the prince. He is heedless of consequences, because there would be none for him, except a possible dose of the clap.”
“Sir!”Her cheeks were blazing again.
“You are a virgin of good repute and family, Rosamund, but the prince would seduce you without any care for your future. What if you became with child, lass? You should be sent home in disgrace, and I have not a doubt you would be given into your uncle Henry’s care. Is that what you desire, Rosamund?”
“No,” she said softly. “You misjudge me, sir. I am not such a lackwit that for all my inexperience I am not aware when I am being trifled with by a young man. I had already scolded the prince, and he had ceased his bad behavior. I did not need rescuing.”
“It was only by chance that I came upon you,” Sir Owein answered her. “So you divined his intentions, eh?”
“A lass may be pure but still recognize the impure. I have a great care for my reputation, but I had not been kissed before by a lover. I wanted to know what it was like,” she explained.
“And did you like being kissed by alover?” he demanded.
“Aye, it was very nice, sir. My heart beat faster, and I even thought I might swoon with the pleasure that filled me. There was no harm in it, was there? Surely other girls have done the same and not been ruined.”
They had reached the door to the Countess of Richmond’s privy apartments. A servant stood outside in the afternoon air by the door. He opened it immediately, his face impassive as Sir Owein passed through with Rosamund still in his arms.
“Gracious! What has happened to Rosamund?” The Venerable Margaret cried as they entered her dayroom.
“I fell, madame, and twisted my ankle. Sir Owein was kind enough to bring me inside,” Rosamund explained.
“Set her down, Sir Owein, and let us look to that ankle,” the countess instructed. “Ladies, Sir Owein has rejoined my staff. I know you will all be glad for it.”
He set the girl down. Rosamund gingerly raised her skirt up to reveal her ankle, quite swollen and turned purple and yellow-brown with her injury. She winced when he touched the skin.
“Oh, my,” the countess said, and she shook her head. “You will have to remain inside for a few days, my child, until the swelling goes down. Ah, here is your Maybel. She will poultice it for you. Sir Owein, carry the Lady Rosamund to her bed now, and let her servant tend to her.”
Maybel led the way and instructed Sir Owein to put Rosamund down into a chair in the bedchamber she shared with the Tudor princess. “Will you fetch me some hot water, sir?” Maybel asked the knight. “I will need it to make the poultice for my mistress.”
He nodded and hurried off.
“You was with that wicked young prince, wasn’t you?” Maybel said. “Don’t deny it! The young princess saw you go off with him.”
“We went to play tennis,” Rosamund replied.
