The earl reached the queen’s chair. He bowed low with an elegant flourish that his wife had taught him when she’d learned he wasspeaking with the queen. He looked then to his daughter, and Cicely curtsied prettily.
“So here you are at last, my lord. And this will be your daughter, Lady Cicely Bowen, will it not?” Queen Joan said.
“It is, madam, and again let me express my gratitude for your generosity and kindness in fostering my child,” Robert Bowen replied.
Queen Joan nodded graciously, then asked, “This is Lady Cicely’s servant, my lord? Come forward.” She gestured to Orva.
Startled to be noticed, Orva stepped forward, and then curtsied politely.
“Your name?”
“Orva, madam,” was the reply.
“You are welcome to Havering-atte-Bower, Orva,” the queen said. Then she looked to Cicely. “Come here, child, and let me see you better.”
Cicely stepped forward.
“Your father tells me you speak English and French,” the queen said.
“Aye, my lady, I do,” Cicely responded.
“And you do sums?”
“Aye, my lady.”
“You are a good Christian maid? You make your confession regularly?” the queen continued.
“Oh, yes, my lady!” Cicely said earnestly.
The queen smiled a small smile. “Do you think you will be happy with us?”
“I do not know, my lady,” Cicely said honestly. “I have never before been away from home. But I am told in a few weeks this will be home, and I shall be content.”
Again Queen Joan smiled. “Aye, I think you will be. Then you are content to come into my care.”
“Oh, my lady, this is a great honor you do me, do my family,”Cicely answered her. “My father is not an important man. I am very grateful for your kindness to me.”
The child had, of course, been told that the queen understood, but she seemed intelligent. She knew the advantage being given to her. Queen Joan drew the other girl by her side forward. “This is your new companion, Lady Joan Beaufort,” she said. “Joan, this is Lady Cicely Bowen. You will share a chamber, and lessons, and learn how to be great ladies in my care. My lord of Leighton, bid your daughter farewell now.”
The earl knelt and drew Cicely into his embrace. He kissed her rosy cheeks, and his eyes grew misty as she put her arms about his neck.
Then she whispered, “I will do my best to bring honor to Leighton, my lord father. I swear it on my mother’s name.”
Robert Bowen’s heart contracted. “I know you will,” he responded. Then, kissing her smooth forehead, he arose, saying, “Farewell, my daughter. We will meet again, I promise you.” Bowing to the queen, he then turned and left her hall.
Cicely stared after her father. She suddenly felt abandoned, as if she would weep.
Then a small hand slipped into hers, and a sweet voice said, “We are going to be such great friends, Cicely. I just know it!”
Turning, she looked into the smiling face of little Lady Joan Beaufort.
Chapter 3
“He’s looking at you again, Jo,” Lady Cicely Bowen said, giggling. At fourteen she was a slender girl of average height, much admired for her thick and wavy auburn hair and her beautiful, clear blue-green eyes.
“Oh, Ce-ce, please don’t tell me that,” Lady Joan Beaufort said. “He’s been staring at me for weeks now. Why doesn’t he just come over and speak to me? If he doesn’t stop mooning about, I don’t know what I will do! I wish we were back at Havering-atte-Bower instead of here at Windsor with the court.” She turned her blond head to look directly at her admirer, and her blue eyes danced mischievously when he flushed, turning away. “There!” She chuckled. “That will teach him to stare so rudely.”
“Who is staring rudely?” a deep voice inquired curiously, and the two girls turned to see that Henry Beaufort, the bishop of Winchester, had joined them. The bishop was Lady Joan’s uncle, and currently part of the regency council governing for the infant king Henry VI, who had acceded to his throne ten months prior, at the age of eight months.
