“You are making something of nothing,” she told him, laughing. “The king was kind enough to remember me from a time long ago. I am indeed flattered that he did. That he remembered who I was is in itself wonderful, Tom. I am not numbered among his high-and-mighty friends, and yet he recalled my name and an incident from our brief shared past.”
“He will get the queen with child again as quickly as he can, I assure you,” Lord Cambridge said, “and then he will cast his eye about for a lady to amuse him in the coming summer months. And mark my words, cousin, you are very much on his mind now.”
“You are mistaken, I am certain,” Rosamund said. “The king was polite and gracious. Nothing more, nor can there be anything more.”
Lord Cambridge shook his head in despair. His lovely cousin was innocent in many ways. And how he was to protect her, he did not know.
The little prince was buried in Westminster Abbey, following a period of mourning in which his frail little body was displayed in an elaborate coffin surrounded by hundreds of candles that burned day and night until his midnight burial. He was given a torch-lit ceremony attended by the entire court, all garbed in deepest black. His soul was now with God and among the innocents.
The penitential season of Lent was now upon them, made all the more somber by the recent royal death. The queen prayed incessantly day and night, wearing a hair shirt, eating little and but once a day. The meals served in the queen’s chambers were spartan. Just brown bread and fish. At Easter the king received a Golden Rose from the pope, which the pontiff had blessed himself. It was a sign of great favor. And immediately after Easter, the court removed to Greenwich to celebrate the month of May.
Chapter 16
“It is exactly like Bolton House!” Rosamund said, very surprised, as the barge approached her cousin’s house at Greenwich.
“Of course,” Tom told her. “Bolton Greenwich is identical in every detail to Bolton House. I dislike confusion, dear girl, and I abhor the chaos of dislocation. When I bought the property at Greenwich I commissioned an architect and builders to replicate Bolton House. Even the decor is the same. The servants come with me as I do not like paying them to be idle at Bolton House while I am at Bolton Greenwich. It is a perfect solution, as you will discover.”
Rosamund laughed. “Actually I believe I already like the idea, and I know Annie will. She has been so fretful of learning a new place when, as she says, ‘I am finally just getting this house right.’ Doll did not tell her, for Doll loves to play her tricks on my poor Annie.” Rosamund’s eyes moved just past Bolton Greenwich. “Is that the palace beyond, Tom?”
He nodded.
“God’s blood! You are next door to the king and his court, cousin. That was either most clever of you or most fortuitous.”
“It was both,” he replied loftily. “It is not a large property, which is why it was thought an undesirable acreage. Now, however, I am the envy of all. I have had any number of offers to purchase it from me, but for the time being I enjoy keeping it. It is not a property that will lose its value. Once again, I fear I display my less-than-noble roots by thinking like a merchant,” he said with a chuckle.
The barge had reached its destination. It docked, and Lord Cambridge’s servants were there to help their master and Rosamund from the comfortable vessel. She sniffed the air curiously.
“What is that smell?” she inquired of her cousin.
For a moment he appeared puzzled, and then he said, “Why it is the sea, dear girl. We are nearer the sea here, downriver. Of course! You have never smelled the sea before, or even seen it, have you? Landlocked in your Cumbrian hills you have not had the opportunity.”
“But I have been to Greenwich before,” Rosamund told him.
“It is the way the wind is blowing today,” he explained.
“How interesting,” she said, “but then, when the wind blows in a different direction at Friarsgate the scent is different. In the winter when it comes from the north I can smell the snow on it.”
They entered the house, and again Rosamund was slightly taken aback. As Tom had told her, the interior of Bolton Greenwich was identical to that of Bolton House. It was a bit confusing because she knew she would expect the outside to be as it was upriver at first, but, she supposed, she would get used to it as she had gotten used to any number of things since her arrival at court five months ago. “I will not have to worry about sleeping at the palace unless I am needed,” she said thoughtfully. “I like that, Tom.”
“Aye, my dear, you have but to go through the wall door in my gardens into the king’s park. You will be the envy of all.”
Rosamund sighed. “I wish the queen would allow me to go home, but she has said naught, and I am afraid to ask lest I offend her. I would not imply that her company was dull, but I miss Friarsgate, and I miss my children, Tom.”
“Do you miss your brazen Scot as well?” he teased her.
“I do not!”she cried indignantly. “Why are you so damned curious about Logan Hepburn, cousin?”
Tom Bolton shrugged. “Your characterization of him rather intrigues me, dear girl. Nothing more. I hope that I shall get to meet him when I return you home.”
“But when will that be?” she wailed with a deep sigh.
“I hear a rumor that the king will make his summer progress in the midlands this year. That will take you in the direction of home, Rosamund, and probably at that point you may request your release from the queen. She will understand your concern about your daughters.”
“It will be almost a year,” Rosamund said. “Bessie and Banon will not know me at all. It is not as if my presence is necessary or vital to the queen.”
“I know,” he said sympathetically, placing an arm about her shoulders and giving her a little squeeze, “but poor Katherine believes that she is doing you a good turn. For her the court is the world but next to heaven itself. Be grateful at least that her concerns for an heir have kept her from matchmaking, dear girl.”
“God forbid!” Rosamund responded.
