“Oh, yes, BrocCairn. It’s such a funny name, I keep forgetting it. It was then that Uncle Conn told me of the betrothal, and he said that although the wedding wasn’t supposed to be celebrated until after my sixteenth birthday, the earl suddenly found himself the only male in his direct line, and needed to marry now and beget heirs.”
“Those things can happen, Velvet. It is not an unusual occurrence, and I can see BrocCairn’s point.”
“Robin, until a month ago I didn’t even know that I was promised to this stranger! I don’t want to go off to Scotland without knowing this man, and I am most certainly not ready to beget his heirs! I won’t marry without love! That much our mother promised me, Robin. And I won’t marry without my parents by my side when I finally decide to do so!”
“Couldn’t you have told the earl this, my sister? He cannot be totally insensitive to a young girl’s fears. I am sure he would have acceded to your request to wait until our mother and Adam return in a few months’ time.”
“Uncle Conn did not seem to think so, Robin, and what if I had waited to ask him and this earl refused me? By law I would have had to marry him. By becoming one of the queen’s Maids of Honor I am protected until our mother returns. It is not so terrible a thing I’ve done, my lord brother. This Earl of BrocCairn can hardly be offended that his betrothed wife is one of the queen’s honored maidens.”
Robin shook his head. “You’re far too clever for a maiden, Velvet,” he said. He grinned at her. “ ’Tis just the sort of thing our mother would have done when she was a girl, but never say I told you so! Tell me now, how do you like the court?”
“It’s the most exciting place I’ve ever been, Robin! I never thought I could exist on so little sleep and so much hurly-burly, but I can, and I do! I have two best friends now. One is Bess Throckmorton, and she has been ever so kind to me, Robin. Not like all the others who are, for the most part, proud as peahens and very shallow. They wanted nothing to do with me until they discovered I had two very wealthy and eligible brothers.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. “And who is your other friend?”
“Her name is Angel Christman, and she is absolutely beautiful, Robin! She’s a royal ward and as poor as a church mouse, as she puts it, but she, too, is ever so nice. When Bess and I can get away from our duties, we go with Angel, Wat, and Scamp into the city. I have been to the theater, Robin!”
He smiled again. “What play did you see performed?”
“It’s a new one, calledTamburlaine the Great, by Master Christopher Marlowe. Wat says he is the finest playwright England has ever seen.”
“Indeed,” replied Robin, “and just who is this Wat who is such an authority on our drama?”
“Why, Sir Walter Ralegh, Robin. I think he is in love with Bess, although neither one of them ever dares to look at the other in the queen’s presence. Scamp says the queen would clap them both in the Tower if she suspected there was anything between them.”
“Again you mystify me, little sister,” said Robin. “You have twice referred to ‘Scamp,’ but I know not who you mean.”
“The Earl of Essex, Robin. Everyone else calls him by your name, but I told him I would not, for there is only one Robin in my life.”
Robert Southwood stiffened. The Earl of Essex had a reputation for womanizing similar to that of his stepfather, the Earl of Leicester. Robin knew how that gentleman had so sorely tried his mother after his father, Geoffrey Southwood, had died. “So, Velvet,” he said, in what he hoped passed for a calm voice, “you have become friends with Essex, have you?”
“He’s so very nice,” she replied. “He says I am like his sister, Dorothy, and he and Wat warned all the gentlemen of the court that they were not to trifle with me. Oh, Robin! We have such good times together, Wat and Scamp, Bess and Angel, and me!”
“Then he has not been forward with you, Velvet?”
“Who?”
“Essex.”
“No.” She laughed. “He is far too busy courting the queen’s favor to bother with me. Frankly, I’m rather disappointed, for I think I should like him to kiss me. One should always be kissed for the first time by someone one likes, don’t you think?” She cocked her head at her brother.
“Yes,” Robin answered his sister quietly, charmed by her genuine innocence and yet at the same time worried for her. How could their mother and Adam have raised her so unaware of the world? He stood up and, taking her hand, raised her to her feet. “Let’s go into the house, Velvet. You have not seen Lynmouth House, never having been to London before. I want you to familiarize yourself with it, for you are to be my hostess when the queen comes in a few days’ time.”
“Iam to be your hostess?Oh, Robin! I assumed that you would ask Willow.”
“I would have, except that my charming youngest sister has just arrived in London and, being newly fledged, should have the experience of hostessing a large party for royalty. You may be called on to entertain King James one day, Velvet.”
A small cloud of annoyance passed over Velvet’s beautiful face, but its passage was so swift that he did not notice it at all.
“It’s not certain that I will marry that Scot, Robin. Remember our mother’s promise.”
“I remember it, Velvet, but you must not be so unkind as to judge the Earl of BrocCairn before you have met him,andbefore you have had the opportunity to know him. You are now safe as a Maid of Honor, at least until your parents return home in a few months. You have won the first skirmish. Be generous in your victory, little sister.”
Robert Geoffrey James Henry Southwood, the Earl of Lynmouth, had held his title since before his third birthday. He had no real memory of the father whom he so startlingly resembled. By choice, he had gone to court at the age of six to be a personal page to Her Majesty, the queen, and he had taken to court life with an ease that was his birthright. When he was sixteen his mother had sent him to study at Oxford University. When he was eighteen he had been sent to the Sorbonne, and from there he had traveled throughout Europe. It was at the Sorbonne that he had met Alexander Gordon, the heir to the Scottish earldom of BrocCairn.
Alex was three years older than the blond English earl, but the two had taken to each other like long-lost brothers. They decided to pool their resources and share living quarters. Even that hadn’t spoiled their friendship. They studied together, drank together, and even wenched together; sometimes, when their funds were low, they shared the same pretty whore who, far from being offended at being paid only once, was ecstatic at having two such virile lovers. Alex and Robin had known each other for well over a year when the matter of marriage came up.
Robin had explained to his friend that he had been betrothed since childhood to the daughter of a friend of the family, and when he finally returned home he would marry her. Alex admitted to a similar situation, but explained that the lass involved was younger than he by thirteen years, and the agreement between them did not allow him to wed her until she was sixteen. Still, he said, he was in no hurry to settle down. Mistress Velvet de Marisco could take her time growing up as far as he was concerned.
