“Shut your mouth, old man!”Maybel hissed at Edmund.
They went to Carlisle and found rich materials for gowns to be worn at court. Rosamund would not choose bright colors in deference to her widowhood. She would wear quiet colors. Over the next few weeks she, Maybel, and many of the Friarsgate women sewed to make her a wardrobe that was suitable. She would take four gowns. Two were to be black, one of a deep hunter green, and the other a midnight blue. The skirts were bell shaped, for that, the mercer in Carlisle had assured them as he sold them a hoop, was the latest style at court.
“’Tis the queen’s Spanish influence,” he said with a wink.
The bodices were difficult, for sleeves now were more intricate, the mercer’s wife explained. She had a sister in London who had sent drawings of the latest fashions. She copied one for Rosamund, telling her as she did that the Spanish were very fashionable.
“Why, the queen has always looked better than any, my sister says. She says the gowns she brought from Spain were all magnificent.”
If she only knew the truth, Rosamund thought to herself, but she nodded, thanking the mercer’s wife for all of her help.
Her new wardrobe was completed but two days before her escort arrived. The gowns had square necklines. The bodices were all fitted, and the skirts came just to the floor. The black brocade was decorated with gold embroidery to relieve its severity, with gold embroidery on the deep cuffs as well. The green velvet was edged in soft brown fur, with wide fur cuffs on the sleeves. The blue brocade had a medium-blue velvet yoking about the neckline and deep cuffs that were embroidered in silver and gold, and the black velvet had a yoking of white velvet embroidered in silver and tight sleeves with fur cuffs.
“I’ve never wore such clothing,” Rosamund said. “I shall certainly not shame the queen, my sponsor, though most of the gowns at court will be quite magnificent in comparison with mine.” She looked at the garments laid out neatly for her inspection. There were chemises, six in all, more than she had ever seen in her entire life. There were two smocks for sleeping and an embroidered nightcap with pink ribbons. There were at least six pairs of stockings knitted from a fine wool that came from the first combing of the spring lambs. She had a beautiful new hooded cape of Friarsgate wool, dyed in the manor’s famous and unique blue color. It was lined and trimmed in a pale rabbit fur, as were the tan leather gloves that matched it.
The manor’s cobbler had made her new shoes and a pair of boots. There were chopines for her shoes should the weather be wet or muddy. He had also made her an elegant little needle case that fit into a beautiful kid pouch with small scissors.
Rosamund had little jewelry, but she packed what she had, for the ladies of the court would certainly wear jewelry. She possessed a single rope of pearls from which hung a gold and pearl cross. It had belonged to her mother and her grandmother. She had a broach that Owein had given her to celebrate the fifth anniversary of their marriage. It was silver and green malachite. She had a second broach of red jasper that had been her mother’s. She possessed three rings in addition to her marriage band of red gold. One was pearl, one onyx in silver, and the third was a fine red garnet in gold. Then she remembered the beautiful emerald and pearl broach that the Venerable Margaret had sent to Philippa when she was born. Her daughter was too young yet for jewelry, and the king’s grandmother had died but several months after her own son. No one would know, and the broach would be wonderful on her green velvet gown. Rosamund packed the jewel.
It had been decided that Annie, a young serving woman of whom Maybel was quite fond, would accompany Rosamund to court.
“I am too old now, my dearest lass, to go with you. Besides, you must leave someone behind who you know will make certain the bairns are well cared for, and I am that person. I have been training Annie myself, and she will do well for you. I will not always be here for you, Rosamund. You must have someone else to look after you.”
“Do not even consider leaving me,” Rosamund scolded Maybel, “but I will agree that it is better if a younger woman comes with me. You know the hours that they keep at court. If I am with the queen’s suite then I shall not be allowed to seek my bed until her highness is safely tucked into her own chamber.”
Rosamund prepared her daughters for her departure, but only Philippa seemed particularly interested. Banon was curious as to whether her mother would bring her something when she returned, and Bessie was too young to really know what was going on at all.
“Does the queen have a little girl?” Philippa asked.
“Nay, she has no children yet,” Rosamund replied.
“You will not be gone long, mama, will you?” Philippa looked up at her, Owein’s eyes searching Rosamund’s face.
“I do not want to go at all,” Rosamund said candidly, “and I would not, but no loyal subject can disobey the queen’s command, my child.” Rosamund smoothed her daughter’s hair gently. “I should far more remain with my three girls than go to court. I am not a very social creature, I fear, my dearest.”
“It is just that we have lost our father,” Philippa explained, “and we do not want to lose you.”
“You will not lose me, my child,” her mother told her, “and you will have Maybel here to look after you. My own mama died when I was three. I barely remember her at all. It was Maybel who mothered me, and you may trust her to care for you and your sisters. But I will be back as quickly as I may. And I will write to you. I promise.”
Philippa hugged her mother, and then went off with her sisters. Rosamund sighed deeply, but Maybel spoke up.
“No child likes to have its parent go away, my lass. You must not worry. I will be here for them as I was for you. And Edmund will watch over Friarsgate.” She patted Rosamund comfortingly.
“What if my uncle Henry comes calling?” the younger woman considered. “What if he steals Philippa away and weds her to his odious son? Oh, I do not like leaving my girls.”
“Your uncle is not well, according to the cook’s gossip, and he has his own troubles with that wife of his,” Maybel reminded her. “Besides, Edmund wouldn’t allow anyone to take the lasses. Now cease your fretting and finish your preparations for court. The queen’s escort will be here in only two more days.”
Rosamund sighed again. “I suppose that you are correct, as you always are, dear Maybel. There is nothing to be accomplished by my worrying. But I will far prefer the journey home.”
The next day the Hepburn of Claven’s Carn rode up to the manor house and walked boldly into the hall where Rosamund sat, polishing her few jewels. She looked up, startled, but did not arise until she had put her baubles back into their velvet bag. “My lord Hepburn,” she said. “What brings you to Friarsgate?”
“Is it true?” he demanded to know.
She knew immediately what he meant, but said instead, “Is what true, my lord?”
“You are widowed again?” he replied, knowing that she had known what he meant. Was she being coy? Nay, not Rosamund. Which could only mean then that she was afraid of him. He softened his tone. “I am told that Sir Owein died in an unfortunate accident, lady. Had I known sooner I should have been here sooner to tender you my condolences.” The blue-blue eyes looked directly at her.
“Aye,” she admitted to him. “I am once more widowed. Is it not odd, my lord, that my husband who survived so many years, from the time he was but six years of age, in service to the Tudors, in both war and peace, should perish in so mundane an accident? He fell from a tree.” She laughed softly. “From the moment he came here he was an integral part of Friarsgate. Each autumn he climbed every tree in the orchards, picking the fruit from their tops and tossing them into the women’s aprons below. It was such an odd thing to do for a man who was a knight, but it gave him pleasure. The branch beneath him broke suddenly, and he fell.” She shook her heard wearily.
