“Only in the capacity of a wife and mother, my lord prior,” Philippa answered him politely.
Richard chuckled. “You have done well with her,” he said.
“Edmund says she reminds him of her great-grandmother,” Rosamund answered him with a smile.
“Yes,” the prior replied thoughtfully. “Our father’s wife was a woman of good sense and good heart. She treated all her husband’s sons equally, though it surely must have been difficult, as Edmund and I were bastards. Still, she loved us the same, and she chastised us the same. Now, why has Queen Katherine called an unimportant northern landowner to court?”
Rosamund explained to her uncle why, she believed, she had been summoned.
“You must be very careful,” the prior advised her. Then he smiled at Philippa. “My child, go with Brother Robert. He will show you about my little realm before it is too dark. You will not have time in the morning.”
“If you wished to speak with my mother privily,” Philippa said, “you had but to ask, my lord prior.”
“I am asking,” he responded, not in the least ruffled by her boldness.
When the young girl had gone, the prior spoke seriously to his niece. “You were the king’s lover. He is bound to be jealous of your relationship with the Earl of Glenkirk. You must deal with him most skillfully if you are to escape his wrath, Rosamund.”
“Uncle! The king does not care about me. He simply wished to accomplish what he had earlier set out to do. But nonetheless, I know he will be curious as to why I was with Patrick. He will not be satisfied until he knows the entire story.”
“You had some feelings for the king, I am certain,” the prior persisted. “You have not the nature of a trollop or a courtesan. And he would have had feelings for you, for this king never does anything he cannot justify. Therefore, he will have convinced himself that he was in love with you, even if it was for only a brief time. The fact that you did not remain in love with him when you parted will be your greatest sin in his eyes, niece. You must be careful how you present your relationship with your earl to him. Edmund said to see you with Patrick Leslie was something magical. He said he had never seen such love between two people. I am sorry for what has happened. And there is no sign of his memories returning?”
“The Moorish physician said if after a year or more nothing had changed, it was very unlikely it would. At least Patrick remembered everything prior to his return to court. He did not lose everything,” Rosamund told her uncle.
Richard leaned back in his chair. “But you did,” he said.
“It broke my heart,” Rosamund admitted. “But life must go on, uncle, mustn’t it?” She smiled a small smile at him.
“The laird is after her again,” Lord Cambridge volunteered cheerfully.
“Tom!” She was blushing.
Richard laughed. “I am happy to hear it. Now, niece, all you must do is convince Henry Tudor that you are his most loyal subject and escape his clutches so you may come back to Friarsgate. I shall pray for you.”
“Your prayers, uncle, will be my shield against the king,” she told him.
In the morning they began their journey in earnest, traveling south deep into England. It was even more exciting a journey than her travels into Scotland, Philippa thought as they went. There were neat little villages and charming towns the likes of which she had certainly never seen. As she rode through England, Philippa began to realize just what being heiress to Friarsgate entailed. She suddenly understood the talk of a proper marriage. She was not some simple village maiden. She was the daughter of a knight who had been the loyalist of the king’s men. Her parents had been wed at a king’s command. And now she was going to court to be presented to their majesties, to be shown off by her mother and to attract a family with an eligible son. She might be only ten years old, but she was the heiress to Friarsgate, and in a few more years she would be ready to marry. Philippa sat her white mare proudly.
After many long days of travel they arrived in London and went directly to Lord Cambridge’s house on the river. Built of weathered brick, it was covered in green ivy and stood four stories high from its entrance to its gray slate roof. Watching them pass through the iron gates, the gatekeeper doffed his cap at them. They rode up the raked gravel driveway through the green park. The first week of June had already passed, and the air was warm.
The front door to the house opened as they approached it. Servingmen hurried out to unload the luggage cart as the majordomo, bowing, greeted them and ushered them into the house.
“My lord, we are relieved you have finally arrived,” he said.
“You received my messenger yesterday,” Tom said. “Did you send to the queen to say the lady of Friarsgate would arrive sometime today?”
“I did, my lord. The royal messenger came with a message not an hour ago. I have it here, my lord.” He handed Lord Cambridge a parchment.
“The men-at-arms are ours and must be housed and fed. Please see to it. And show Lucy where her mistress and her mistress’ daughter are to reside. The child is next to her mother?”
“Yes, my lord,” the majordomo said. “Everything is as you would wish it.” He bowed neatly.
“Come, dear girl, and let us show Philippa the hall,” Tom said.
“If it is the same as Otterly’s hall, uncle, I know where it is,” Philippa said excitedly, running ahead of them.
“You may know where it is, my adorable one, but the view! The London view is magnificent. Tell me if you do not agree,” he said with a chuckle as they entered the room.
The chamber ran the length of the house. It was paneled, and at one end there was a large fireplace with iron mastiffs for firedogs. The lead-paned windows running across one wall of the hall overlooked the Thames River. The ceiling was coffered, and multicolored carpets covered the wide floorboards. Enthralled, Philippa ran to the windows, staring openmouthed at the river with its busy traffic below. Rosamund found a chair and sat down, looking to her cousin who was even now opening the message from the palace.
