“Of course,” Katherine replied graciously. “You may give him my regards. I have seen him in the Great Hall these past nights but have had no opportunity to speak with him. A most amusing gentleman. Did I hear he had sold his estates in the south and moved north to Cumbria to be near your family?”
“Indeed, madame, he did,” Rosamund replied. “It is comforting to have him nearby. Family is so important.”
The queen nodded in agreement, and taking this as her cue, Rosamund curtsied once again, backing out through the door between the queen’s privy chamber and the anteroom. That room was once again filled with chattering women, and as she crossed it, her eye caught that of Inez de Salinas. Rosamund smiled sweetly at her, nodding in a friendly fashion, restraining the laughter that threatened to burst forth from her at the look of surprise on the Spanish woman’s face. Then she hurried to the Great Hall, where she found Tom dicing with some gentlemen. Seeing her, he murmured something to his companions, gathered his winnings, and joined her. Together they sought a secluded spot where they might talk without being overheard.
“She has seen you.” It was a statement, not a question. “What excuse did she give for keeping you waiting for four days after demanding you come down from Friarsgate?” he asked.
“Inez,” was all Rosamund said.
“What?” For a moment he looked puzzled, but then, as she explained, it all became clear to Lord Cambridge again.
“Remember the night we left the summer progress several years ago to return home to Cumbria? Remember what she saw, and how I denied it, naming another gentleman? She did not believe me, but I did think I had prevailed upon her to be silent. She was not. She ran rumormongering to the queen,” Rosamund said.
“And what did you do?” he asked her.
“I denied it, of course. I will always deny it, Tom. I was vulnerable. He was all-powerful. I could not refuse. It was a supreme moment of weakness, and I not only regret it, but I am ashamed it ever happened, though at the time it was exciting even if it was forbidden. I will always deny it, for I should never deliberately harm Kate. She is too important to England. And he will certainly never admit to it, even to his confessor, I suspect. He believes too strongly in his divine right.” Rosamund smiled mischievously.
“And she believed you?” He was anxious for her.
“She wants to believe me,” Rosamund replied, “but she will always be suspicious, for that is her nature and Inez has played on it. But I have been no less duplicitous, for I have played on her desire to retain our long-standing friendship. She can never forget what Owein and I did for her when she was in such dire straits.”
“We must help her believe you over Inez,” Lord Cambridge said.
“We must leave the issue alone,” Rosamund said. “She has agreed to receive Philippa tomorrow.”
“Nay. It will but take one small thing to make your lie more palatable to accept than Inez de Salinas’ truth,” he told her. “Trust me in this matter, cousin.”
“I am told the court is moving to Windsor shortly,” Rosamund said, attempting to turn the subject. “Did you know? Do you perchance have a house in Windsor, cousin?” she teased him.
He laughed. “Nay, but I knew, and so I have reserved an entire floor of one of the town’s finer inns for us. We shall not be sleeping in a hayrick, my dear girl.”
The day moved into the summer twilight, and the Great Hall began to fill with courtiers. The women Rosamund had known casually during her last stay at court now approached her and greeted her as if it were her first day back with them. Rosamund was gracious, but amused. It was obvious that her censure had now been officially lifted. Inez de Salinas was not among these women.
And then suddenly Charles Brandon approached her, smiling toothily. “My dear Rosamund,” he purred like a large tomcat anticipating a meal of finch, “how delightful to see you returned to court.” He lifted her hand, his gaze meeting her own startled one, and kissed it, retaining it afterwards and tucking it through his arm. “Come, my lovely, and let us speak of old times.” And he led her off, murmuring as he did, “Try not to look so surprised, my pet. After all, am I not an old lover?”
Rosamund looked up into the handsome face, and her laugh tinkled loudly enough for the ladies left behind to hear it. But then she said, “My lord, please explain yourself.”
“Your little prevarication must be made real to those who would gossip unkindly, should it not, Rosamund Bolton?” His dark eyes scanned her face. “Aye, you are very lovely. What a pity you insist on sequestering yourself in the north.”
“I still do not understand, my lord,” she told him.
“I knew years ago, just after you had gone,” he said. “The king’s Walter told me what had happened and requested that if ever asked, I confirm your lie. But no one ever asked until tonight, when Walter once again approached me. He said this little charade would be necessary to convince a certain lady.”
“But she was nowhere near us,” Rosamund replied.
“Trust me, dear lady,” he told her. “The little incident is already being reported to her as we speak together. You were surrounded by her minions, were you not?”
“I owe you a debt of gratitude, then, Charles Brandon,” Rosamund said quietly.
“Nay, madame, ’twas I who owed you. But now my debt is paid in full, I believe,” he said to her.
“How is it you owe me a debt?” Rosamund asked.
“When you were a girl first at court in the Venerable Margaret’s care, God assoil her good soul”—he crossed himself—“there was a plot devised that Prince Henry seduce you. Perhaps you will remember it. Though I did advise against it, I held the wagers.”
“I remember,” Rosamund told him. “And I agree that we are now even, my lord.” She chuckled softly. “I remember that my husband insisted you turn over the wagers to the king’s mother for charitable purposes. Richard Neville was very angry.”
“Did you tell his father, as you had threatened?” Brandon asked her.
