“That portrait now hangs in the Great Hall of the Duke of San Lorenzo, madame! Lord Howard informs me that your naked limbs can be easily seen through the diaphanous draperies you have called a costume and that one of your breasts was quite bare!” Henry Tudor sounded outraged.
“What?” The surprise on Rosamund’s face convinced the king that her own tale was true, as far as she knew. “The maestro sold the goddess painting to the duke?”
Then she burst out laughing. “The duke, Hal, is a man of vast appetites where women are concerned. He would have enjoyed seducing me but that I would not have it. And the artist, as well. These men from the south are quite different from us, I fear. It took all my wits about me to prevent a disaster,” she concluded. Then she said, “My cousin tells me that Lord Howard is back in England. He is not a good ambassador, Hal. He is much too abrasive and rude. He quite irritated the duke.”
“When you returned in late spring you went back to my sister, did you not?” He ignored her remark about Richard Howard. It was not necessary Rosamund know that Duke Sebastian had sent him home to England for the very qualities Rosamund mentioned. It had been most embarrassing, especially as the duke had sent a message with Lord Howard saying he wanted no further English ambassador in San Lorenzo.
“Aye. I had promised Meg I would. She had been delivered then of her son,” Rosamund answered him. Let him ask what he would. She would volunteer nothing unless asked.
“The boy? He is truly healthy?” the king inquired.
Rosamund nodded. “He is strong of limb and heart and mind, Hal. Your nephew is what the Scots would call a ‘braw laddie.’ ”
“And after you had paid your compliments to my sister, you returned home alone?”
“I returned home with Lord Leslie,” Rosamund said. “We decided that we would wed even though both of us had estates that must be husbanded. We thought we could spend part of each year at Friarsgate and part of the year at Glenkirk. Do the high and the mighty not travel between their lands?”
“Yet he left you,” the king said.
“In the autumn, to return to Glenkirk. He wanted his son and heir, Adam Leslie, to know what it was he intended doing. He wanted Adam’s approval, for he had been widowed since his son’s birth.”
“If he was a capable bed partner, and I must assume he was, madame, then I am certain his son would not have been pleased by the thought of having to share his inheritance with another child of his father’s making,” the king remarked.
“Patrick’s seed was no longer potent due to an illness years before,” Rosamund explained. “There was no danger of another child to supplant his grown son.”
“And yet he was a passionate lover, for I know none but could satisfy you, Rosamund,” the king noted.
Rosamund flushed, continuing with her story. “We were to meet in Edinburgh in the spring. I arrived to discover he had suffered a seizure of the brain. Though I nursed him until he was able to travel, not all of his memory returned. He had completely forgotten the last two years of his life. He did not know me at all. There was no possibility, under such circumstances, of our wedding.” Her amber eyes glistened with tears as she spoke now. “His son keeps me informed as to his health, however.”
“You are yet in touch with my sister?” the king asked.
“She sent to me warning of the war to come,” Rosamund said. “You should not have encouraged King James to war, Hal.”
“I?” Henry Tudor sounded outraged with her accusation.
“James Stewart was a good king, Hal. He was a good husband to your sister, and she loved him dearly. You forced his hand because you were jealous of him.”
“Do you seek to visit the Tower, madame?” the king said coldly.
“I say to you the things that no others dare,” she agreed, “but you need to hear them, Hal. James Stewart marched into England hoping to lure you home from France, but instead you sent Suffolk to engage him in battle. But for an accident of fate, Scotland would have beaten you.”
“What accident?” No one had told him this. They had only trumpeted victory.
“The Scots phalanx broke on a slippery, muddy hill,” she said, knowing he would understand the rest.
“It was obviously God’s will that we prevail against the Scots,” the king said piously, and he crossed himself. “God is on my side, Rosamund! He always will be.”
“If your majesty says so,” she murmured, her head bowing.
“But now, madame, what am I to do with you?” he wondered.
“I came to court for two reasons, Hal,” she said. “Because I was summoned and because I wished to introduce my heiress to your majesties. I would return home now.”
“Nay, not quite yet,” he told her. “I am not satisfied that your conduct in the matter of this Scot was not treasonous, madame.”
“God’s wounds!” Rosamund swore. “You know very well it was nothing more than I have told you, Hal. When have I ever been duplicitous with you? With your queen, aye, but only to protect her, but never with you!”
“I think you should accompany the court to Windsor,” he said, smiling suddenly.
