“Edmund says I am like my great-grandmother,” Philippa told her mother.
They spent the day completing the arrangements for their journey. Several of Rosamund’s gowns had been altered and remade at Tom’s direction, so she would not appear unfashionable at court. Philippa’s gowns from the previous year at the Scots court were also remade, and a third gown was added to her wardrobe. The proper accoutrements and jewelry were chosen and packed.
“I wish I could go with you this time, my lady,” Annie said wistfully. She was again with child, and her son was not yet weaned.
“Lucy suits me,” Rosamund told her tiring woman. “You have trained her well, and you can be proud of your little sister.”
“But she gets to go to court,” Annie bemoaned her fate. “I should like to go again.”
Rosamund laughed. “There is no pleasure in all that traveling, as you well know, Annie, or have you forgotten so quickly?” her mistress teased her.
“Aye, I’ve forgotten the trial of travel, but I remember San Lorenzo in the winter sunlight, my lady,” Annie said wistfully.
“You have had the best of it, Annie. San Lorenzo and King Henry’s court, and King James’ court, God assoil his good soul,” Rosamund told her
Annie nodded. “I have,” she agreed. “Still, I should like to see Great Harry in all his glory. Will you remain long?”
“No longer than I must,” Rosamund said.
Annie closed the trunk holding her mistress’ gowns, which she had packed very carefully. “They say the lord of Claven’s Carn would court you if you would allow it.”
Rosamund shook her head. Why was it the servants always knew what you did not want them to know? “I am on my way to London, Annie. I have scarce time for a lovelorn Scot now, do I?”
Annie grinned at her mistress. “You was always one for keeping secrets,” she said.
“No one can keep anything secret at Friarsgate,” Rosamund replied with a laugh.
Logan returned the following morning bringing with him thirty men. “The younglings will remain at Friarsgate to keep it safe. The more experienced men I am sending with you,” he said.
“How are Banon and Bessie?” she asked him anxiously.
“Tired after their ride yesterday, but God’s blood, Rosamund! You have bonnie daughters. They’ve charmed my housekeeper already, and Johnnie is enchanted with them. He’s never had playmates before.”
“Is he like you?” she asked him.
“It’s like your Bessie. He looks like me, but he is his mother’s son, with Jeannie’s sweet manner about him. He may change as he grows older, but having never raised a lad myself, I don’t know.”
“If the girls become too much, send for Maybel. She will keep them in order. I thought it better she remain here, as her absence would be more quickly noted than my younger daughters’,” Rosamund told him. Then she said, “I thank you again, Logan Hepburn, for the hire of your men and your care of my girls.”
“I will anxiously await your return,” he said.
“I think I may miss your arrogance just a little,” Rosamund said to him. “You are so polite with me, it is if you are walking on eggs, Logan Hepburn.”
“I am,” he replied. “I am attempting to prove to you that I am not a rough borderer, a Scots scoundrel, as you once called me, Rosamund, that I am indeed worthy of your hand. If I allowed myself to revert to my former self, I should seriously consider preventing your going. I should sweep you into my arms and kiss you until you were weak. Then I should carry you to the church and have Mata marry us.” He smiled just a trifle wolfishly. “But you prefer a more civilized lover, so if I am to have any chance of winning you, I must be the man you desire. When we are at last wed—if you will have me,” he amended, “then I shall become the man you need, Rosamund Bolton.” He bowed, then bent, cupping his hands together to boost her into her saddle.
Rosamund settled herself, but her heart was hammering nervously. Yet when she looked down at him, her amber eyes were grave. “Yes,” she considered, “I do miss the arrogance.” And she smiled wickedly at him, gathering her reins in her gloved hand.
“Golden brown velvet suits you,” he murmured, taking her other hand and kissing it. “Give my regards to your uncle Richard, madame.”
“Be assured, I will,” she responded, and then she kicked her mount, moving away.
They traveled as far as St. Cuthbert’s Monastery, where Rosamund’s other uncle, Richard Bolton, was prior. They were welcomed into St. Cuthbert’s and settled into the guesthouse for the night. Prior Richard invited them to dine with him in his private dining chamber. She had not seen this uncle, Edmund’s younger brother, in well over a year.
“So, niece, while my brother has kept me well informed, I am surprised to see you once again journeying down to court. I did not consider you particularly interested in that sort of life,” the prior said.
“I am not, but the queen has summoned me, and I thought it an opportunity for Philippa to be introduced to her and presented to the king. In too few years, uncle, I must find a good match for my daughter.”
The prior nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. “Philippa is indeed growing up,” He turned to the little girl. “You have no desire to serve Holy Mother Church, my child?”
