“What if Philippa and this boy do not get along?” Rosamund asked.
“They have not even met yet, dear girl. That will happen at Windsor. But our lass is only ten, and the boy is not ready, by any means, for a betrothal. This is merely a small fishing expedition at best. I know other families with eligible sons.”
Rosamund nodded. “But after Windsor, I want to go home. I have some business of my own to take care of, Tom. And before we depart London we must meet with your goldsmiths and choose a factor for our little venture.”
“Agreed!” he said. “Tomorrow, after we deposit Philippa with her new friend, we shall complete our own business, dear girl. And when I get home I must go to Leith to see how our ship is coming along. I should like to call this first vessel after you, cousin.”
“I think I have a better name than mine, dearest Tom,” she told him. “I think we should call our shipBold Venture, for it is indeed a bold venture that you and I undertake.”
He nodded. “Aye, I like it.Bold Venture. Aye!” he agreed.
The following morning they took Philippa to court, leaving her with Lucy to find Cecily FitzHugh. They then went on to Goldsmiths’ Row, where the banking of the day was conducted. Lord Cambridge introduced his cousin to Master Jacobs, his goldsmith. Rosamund put her signature upon a piece of parchment several times so the goldsmith would have it to compare with any message purporting to come from her. Lord Cambridge had brought Master Jacobs a copy of his last will and testament for safekeeping and so that the goldsmith would know that Rosamund and her daughters were his heirs. He brought the agreement they had both signed for their enterprise, giving the goldsmith a copy of it, too.
“My cousin and I will both be depositing funds and withdrawing them, Master Jacobs,” he told the goldsmith. “Lady Rosamund is a large landowner in Cumbria, where I now make my home.”
“What will you use the ship for, my lord?” the goldsmith asked.
“We will export my cousin’s woolen cloth to Europe. There is none finer, and the Friarsgate Blue will be the most sought after,” Tom explained.
“What will your ship return with in exchange?” the goldsmith inquired.
“Tom!” Rosamund said. “We have not considered another kind of cargo. We cannot have our vessel returning with an empty hole. There is but half-profit in that.”
“I have relations in both Holland and the Baltic, my lord, my lady. For a small percentage of your profits, they could fill your ship for its return journey,” Master Jacobs said.
“It can be nothing that stinks,” Rosamund said. “We would never get the smell out of the wood of the hole. The next shipment of cloth would pick up the aroma. No hides or cheeses. Wine. Wood. Pottery. Gold. But nothing that would leave a noxious fragrance. My captain will have such orders, Master Jacobs. He will take no cargo that smells.”
“Of course, my lady. Now I comprehend your need for a new vessel. The fee I suggest is fifteen percent,” he told her, smiling. “It is a modest fee.”
Rosamund shook her head. “Nay,” she said in a hard voice. “It is too much.”
“Twelve,” he countered, and seeing the look in her eye quickly said, “Ten is the lowest I can go, my lady.” His mouth puckered nervously.
“Eight percent and not a penny more, Master Jacobs. I am being generous with you for the sake of your long-standing arrangement with my cousin. We have built the ship, grown the wool, and woven the cloth. The risk is all ours. Eight percent for bringing in return cargo is more than fair.”
The goldsmith’s pursed lips turned up into a smile. “Agreed, my lady!” he said. Then he turned to Lord Cambridge. “She both bargains and reasons well, old friend.”
“Indeed she does,” Tom said proudly.
“What are we to do about a factor?” Rosamund asked him when they were once more in their barge on the river.
“I think there is time for that,” Lord Cambridge said thoughtfully. “Perhaps we need not find someone on this visit to London. My instincts tell me to wait.”
“Your instincts have always proven reliable before,” Rosamund said. “We will wait.”
The following day the court decamped Westminster Palace and London for Windsor, where the king was looking forward to a summer of hunting in his green park. They rode with the royal progress, Lucy, Tom’s man, and the cart with their belongings mixed in with the baggage train and their own men-at-arms. Philippa rode with her friend Cecily FitzHugh and Rosamund and Tom with the Earl and Countess of Renfrew.
The earl was a large man with gray eyes and sandy-colored hair. His wife was petite and dark-haired with fine blue eyes.
“I remember your late husband, Sir Owein,” Ned told Rosamund as they traveled. “He was an honorable man and a devoted servant to the House of Tudor. I, too, have Welsh blood.”
“Owein barely remembered the place of his birth, my lord. He went into service as Jasper Tudor’s page when he was but six,” Rosamund told her companion.
“My wife and I spend more time at court now than in the marches,” the earl admitted. “Our son and his wife need to learn how to manage the family estates. It will be theirs one day. Tom tells me you have a large holding in the north.”
“Friarsgate,” Rosamund said. “My parents and brother perished when I was three. I became the heiress to Friarsgate. Philippa is my heiress. I have land, cattle, and many sheep, my lord. Now Tom and I have begun a new venture, exporting my fine woolen cloth. We are building our own ship, for the cloth must be transported carefully.”
“And your daughter will inherit all of it one day,” the earl said.
