“Why don’t you just wed the earl?” Annie questioned her lady. “Begging your pardon, mistress. I do not mean to be forward, but I do not understand.”
“The Earl of Glenkirk can no more abandon his home than I could forsake Friarsgate, Annie. Were my lasses not so young I might consider a union with him, but they are too young for me to leave.”
Annie nodded again, understanding, but not quite understanding. She lay the orange tawny gown out on the chamber’s single chair. “Where would we go?”
“Across the sea,” Rosamund replied simply.
“Across the sea? I ain’t ever been on any boat, my lady!” Annie exclaimed.
“Neither have I,” Rosamund chuckled. “It will be quite an adventure for us.”
“And how long would we be at sea?” Annie asked nervously.
“A few days at the most,” Rosamund promised her.
“And we’ll come home after you have all this adventure out of yourself?” Annie pressed her mistress. “You swear on the Blessed Mother’s name?”
“I swear,” Rosamund said with utmost seriousness. “I expect we will be back by autumn at the latest, Annie. Probably sooner.”
Annie drew a long, deep breath. Then she said, “I’ll come, my lady. But what will Mistress Maybel and Master Edmund say? And who is to tell them?”
“Lord Cambridge will tell them, Annie,” Rosamund answered the girl.
“Have you told him?” Annie persisted as she unrolled two pairs of stockings.
“I shall tell him today, Annie. Now, remember, this is a great secret. I shall have to lie to the queen, I fear, for she would not understand my leaving her now. And it is not yet time for all the dissembling to begin. Put it from your mind now, and I shall tell you when you may recall it again,” Rosamund said. “Now, I would get dressed before I am late for the mass.”
Margaret of Scotland signaled to her friend to come and be by her side just as the mass was beginning. This was an honor, and Rosamund well knew it. For a moment she felt almost guilty at the deception she would play on her old friend. But then her eyes met those of the Earl of Glenkirk across the royal chapel, and her guilt vanished. When the morning services were over, the queen linked her arm in Rosamund’s, and they walked together towards the Great Hall where the morning meal would be laid out.
“What is this gossip I hear about you and Lord Leslie?” the queen asked bluntly.
“I do not know the gossip to which you refer, madame,” Rosamund answered formally, for they were in public.
“It is said that you have become lovers,” the queen replied. Then she lowered her voice. “Is it true, Rosamund? Have you? He is very handsome, even if he is old.”
“He is not that old, Meg,” Rosamund whispered, a twinkle in her amber eyes.
“Ohhh, then it is so!” the queen chortled. “What a naughty girl you have suddenly become, Rosamund.”
“I would not offend your highness,” Rosamund quickly said.
“Offend me? Nay, I envy you!” the queen answered. “Do you remember how my grandmother always said a woman married first, perhaps a second time for her family, but after that she should find her own happiness? Does Lord Leslie make you happy, Rosamund? I hope so! Have you ever had a lover before?”
The first lie, Rosamund thought to herself. “Nay, Meg,” she murmured softly. “Never before.” And in a sense it was the truth, for she had not really loved Margaret Tudor’s brother, England’s king. But she was surely in love with Patrick Leslie.
“ ’Tis rather sudden, isn’t it?” the queen pressed her friend further.
“I cannot explain it,” Rosamund said. “Our eyes met, and we both knew.”
The queen laughed softly. “You sound like my husband with hislang eey,” she said. Her hand went protectively to her belly. “I don’t want to be an empty vessel like my brother’s wife. Pray God and his Blessed Mother that this child is a strong son, Rosamund. Pray hard for me!”
“I do,” Rosamund said. “Every day, Meg.”
“Your highness.” The king’s page was before them. “His majesty would break his fast with you this morning,” the lad said. “I am here to escort you.”
The queen nodded, and Rosamund gracefully slid into the background, seeking either Glenkirk or her cousin Lord Cambridge. It was Lord Cambridge who found her first.
“My darling girl, you have set the court upon its ear, I fear. Is it true? Has Lord Leslie become your lover? I have never before heard such delicious tittle-tattle. The Scots court is far more fun than the English court, where poor Spanish Kate and her mate, our stodgy King Henry, hold sway. There everything is proper and ordered while the king casts his eye boldly about and then swives his little conquests in secrecy—no offense, my darling cousin.”
