Christmas dinner was the main event of the day, and it began at three in the afternoon at the Earl of Lynmouth’s great mansion. The invited guests were few, consisting of the earl’s newly married sister and brother-in-law; the earl’s elder sister and brother-in-law, the Earl and Countess of Alcester, and their five children; Sir Walter Ralegh; and Bess Throckmorton. These last two had been invited separately, and had each managed to get their mistress’s approval for their absence providing they appeared back at court in time for the dancing that night. The queen had no idea that one of her favorite gentlemen and Mistress Throckmorton would be at the same table this Christmas Day.
The meal was a lavish one consisting of several courses each preceded by music from the minstrels’ gallery. They began with great platters carried into the hall by footmen, led by the Earl of Lynmouth’s master of the revels. Upon the platters were seafood of all kinds: sea trout served whole and surrounded by carved lemons and garnished with chervil; sole in a sauce of eggs, heavy cream, and dill; prawns that had been steamed in white wine and stuffed with lobster; a great oaken tub filled with ice and, amid the ice, oysters ready to crack open and eat whole. There was an enormous side of rare beef that was brought in and placed on the sideboard to be carved by an underchef; several fine hams; succulent capons stuffed with dried fruit; an enormous turkey stuffed with both oysters and chestnuts; a pheasant, roasted whole with all its feathers replaced and served on a golden platter; several large pies, one of rabbit, one of pigeon, one of goose, each wheeled in upon its own specially made cart as they were far too large to be carried by hand. There were bowls of carrots glazed in honey, peas cooked with leeks, and lettuces steamed in wine. There was fine white bread, butter, and salt aplenty, but the highlight of the meal was the bringing in of the boar’s head.
The honor of carrying in the beast had been given to young Henry Edwardes, Willow’s eldest son. One day, Robin thought after he had very much pleased his eldest sister by his choice, I shall have my own son to delegate this task to, but for now Henry will more than do. Proudly, the lad, his father’s young image, came forth, led by the master of the revels and preceded by musicians and songsters. Upon a huge silver salver, almost too large for the boy, rested the boar’s head, crowned and garlanded with laurel leaves and rosemary, a lemon in its mouth to suggest plenty. At Henry’s entrance the assembled family arose from the table singing:
“Caput apri defero,
Reddens laudes domino.
The boar’s head in hand bring I,
Bedecked with bays and rosemary;
I pray you all sing merrily,
Quot estis in convivio …
Then, set in its place of honor on the board, the boar’s head was greeted with much cheering.
The Earl of Lynmouth and his guests ate heartily and drank deeply of fine Archambault wines. Even so, the leftovers would easily feed all the beggars who came to his door that night and feed them generously at that, especially when the servants’ leftovers were added.
When the last course of wine-soaked cakes, rich custards, fruit tarts, candied angelica, rose petals, and violets, sweet biscuits, and Malmsey was cleared from the board, the Christmas mummers were let into the hall to perform the time-honored play with St. George, the Saracen, and the Dragon. Along with the three major performers were lesser ones, consisting of Father Christmas with his holly bough, a doctor to cure the “wounds,” a handsome young boy carrying a wassail bowl, and a pretty little girl with warm brown eyes and golden brown hair who carried the mistletoe.
The children, Willow’s five and Robin’s three, were enchanted by the rather simple performance. Bess Throckmorton turned and smiled at Walter Ralegh who, free of royal restraint, gazed passionately back at her.
“It is almost like my childhood at home,” she said wistfully.
“And do you find it preferable to your life at court, Bess?” he asked.
She sighed. “At court, or so I am told, I serve the best interests of my family who have ever been in service to the crown. I love the queen, my mistress, but that does not mean I do not long for a simpler life in the country, a husband, children, and my own hearth. That life I should prefer to the court.” Then she smiled sadly. “I am, however, past my prime in the marriage mart, and, lacking a dowry, who will have me?”
“I would have you, Bess,” he declared softly. “I have more than enough wealth for us both!”
“And how long would you have it, Walter, should you cease to be Her Majesty’s loyal and loving knight?” she asked. “I would not be the cause of your downfall, not after all you have done to gain your position.”
“She forgave Leicester.”
“Robert Dudley was, as we all know, a special case, Walter. They shared the same birthdate and had been friends since childhood. In the days when the queen was but the Princess Elizabeth and sent by her sister, Mary, to the tower, it was Robert Dudley, also imprisoned, who spent his own small hoard of silver to make her life more bearable by bribing the guards to bring her small luxuries such as firewood so that she might be warm. She loved Dudley, truly loved him. I believe she would have forgiven him anything, Walter, but the rest of us are vulnerable to her wrath. ’Tis a fine compliment you have paid me nonetheless, and I shall always cherish it.”
“I love you, Bess,” he said quietly.
Elizabeth Throckmorton blushed becomingly. “I love you, Walter,” she replied as softly, then she turned from him to watch the children, who were now engaged in a game of shoe-the-mare amid much giggling and scampering.
Robert Southwood sought out Walter Ralegh. “I hope you do not mind the simplicity with which we are celebrating,” he said with a smile as he watched the children. “Angel did so want you and Bess to share our Christmas, but unlike many of my station I prefer a family gathering.”
Walter Ralegh smiled back, nodding. “Both Bess and I were just saying how we missed the simpler times. I hear, however, that you will revive a custom of your late father’s and hold a great Twelfth Night masque for the court in the new year.”
“Aye! The queen requested it, and I cannot refuse her. Afterwards, however, I shall attempt to withdraw from the society of the court until after my wife has been delivered in the spring. It is her first child, and I am told she must have quiet. If it is possible, we shall try to return home to Devon so that the baby may be born atLynmouth.”
As the hour grew late, the children were all taken away to their beds and the musicians began to play a lilting lavolta. The Earl of Lynmouth led his wife into the center of the hall, and they began to dance. They were joined by the others in quick order, but when the lavolta ended and a Spanish canary was played, Angel retired from the floor, the lively jig being too much for her in her current state. Finally as Christmas Day slipped nearer to St. Stephen’s Day the evening drew to a close.
Sir Walter Ralegh and Mistress Throckmorton had taken their leave earlier, both mindful of their duties to the queen. Willow and her husband were staying at Lynmouth House for the next few days, but Velvet and Alex now made their way across the snowy garden, both well satisfied with their first Christmas together.
Once again within their chamber Alex spoke lovingly to his wife. “There has been no time today for us to exchange gifts, lovey. Look beneath yer pillow.”
Velvet’s green eyes grew round with anticipation, and she flew across the bedchamber to their bed. Slipping her hand beneath the plump pillows, she drew forth a flat, white leather jeweler’s case that opened to reveal a magnificent necklace of diamonds and rubies, the center stone in the piece being a heart-shaped jewel of a deep red hue. “Oh, Alex!” She lifted the necklace from its nest of white satin and held it up to the light. “Oh, Alex!”
He chuckled with delight. “I am pleased to have finally rendered ye speechless, Velvet. May I assume then that ye like it?”
