In the bed they shared in the Maidens’ Chamber later that night Philippa and Cecily spoke softly behind the drawn curtains, and Cecily giggled as her friend recounted her kissing adventure with Sir Roger.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Cecily said. “He really is the nicest man. It is too bad that he is promised to another.”
“I don’t care,” Philippa replied. “I just enjoy kissing him, but I cannot see him as my husband. Now tell me, was Millicent angry? What did she say?”
“Not a great deal, for the queen was there, but I know she was angry that Sir Walter was paying such close attention to you. When I pointed it out she pretended it wasn’t him at all, but then one of the other girls said it was. She was very silent, but she watched you both like a hawk, and when you disappeared by the river for a brief time you could tell she was angry. After you had left him she excused herself from the queen’s presence, and ran to find him. But I could tell she was not scolding him. Her position is not yet that secure with him. She clung to his arm, and gazed up at him. She looked quite like a ewe sheep gazing at her lamb, I vow.” Cecily giggled. “Will you play with Sir Walter again, or are you now satisfied? Tony told me you pretended not to know how to dice. You are the best player amongst us girls!”
“You were right earlier when you said Millicent is not worth bothering with. She isn’t. I have far more important things to do now. I want to kiss as many men as I can so that when I am forced back north to marry some bucolic dullard I will have wonderful memories of my last days at King Henry’s court!”
“Sir Roger has certainly inspired you,” Cecily said with a small laugh. “He really is a darling. Now let’s get some sleep while we may. Tomorrow we move on to Richmond before the summer progress. I think we go north this year.”
The following day the court decamped Greenwich for Richmond. To everyone’s relief there was no sign of the sweating sickness or the plague now. It seemed to be dying out. Many of their companions began to depart the court as the time for the progress drew near. Some of the girls were going home to marry as Millicent and Cecily soon would be doing. The thought of losing her best friend began to tell on Philippa, and she began to grow more reckless in her behavior: dicing with the young gentlemen of the court, losing just enough to keep them coming back; paying off her debts with kisses, and of late if the gossip were to be believed, cuddles. Her servant, Lucy, scolded her but it did no good. Lucy would have written to her mistress’s mother but she did not know how to write, and had not the means to hire someone to do it for her.
The queen was more tired now than she had been recently, and it was being said that it was her age. Her last pregnancy had worn her out entirely, it seemed. The queen intended to retire alone to Woodstock for the month of July rather than accompany the king on his progress. Henry was most displeased by this, but agreed. There were few to tell the maids of honor what to do now, not that Philippa would have listened.
Cecily would not be going to Woodstock. She would be returning to her family’s home where she would be wed in August. It had originally been planned that Philippa come with her, but now with Giles having repudiated any match with Philippa Meredith, the earl of Renfrew and his wife felt it best that Philippa not come.
“I fear a visit to our hall at this time would but bring back memories of Giles for you, my dear,” Edward FitzHugh had told Philippa. “Your previous visits were such happy ones. Your righteous sorrow, and your anger over my son’s decision, or any attempt you might make to conceal it, would but put a pall upon Cecily’s wedding day. I know you would not want to do that to she who has been your best friend, even as I know you will understand this decision that the Lady Anne and I have made in this matter.”
Wordlessly, quick tears running down her cheeks, Philippa nodded. He was right, of course, but still to miss Cecily and Tony’s wedding day ...
“I have told my daughter of our decision, Philippa. I did not wish to put that upon you, my child. I am so sorry. My son’s thoughtlessness has made it difficult for us all. You know that my wife and I would have gladly welcomed you as our daughter, Philippa. I have told your mother I will help in any way I can to provide you with another match.”
Suddenly Philippa found herself angry. “I believe, my lord, that my family is quite capable to finding me another match without your help,” she said coldly. “I will return now to helping Cecily pack for her departure tomorrow.” She curtseyed stiffly, and turning, walked away from the earl of Renfrew.
A small smile touched Edward FitzHugh’s lips. What a simpleton Giles was. This proud young girl would have brought so much to their family. And then he thought that perhaps Philippa was too good for his foolish son. It was a great loss, and he forgave her her rudeness. She had borne up remarkably well in the face of her great disappointment and the embarrassment she had been caused by his younger son.
Philippa returned to find Cecily weeping. Sitting down on their bed next to her best friend, she put an arm about the girl’s shoulders. “Your parents are right,” she began. “Damn your brother for this new unhappiness he has visited upon both of us this time. You will write me and tell me all about the wedding, Ceci. And Mary and Susanna will not have to feel you are neglecting them for me.”
“I am closer to you than to my sisters,” Cecily sniffed.
“You will come to my wedding someday,” Philippa said. “Believe me, my mother is already seeking eagerly for just the right bumpkin to husband Friarsgate, for it is far more important to her than I am.”
“Will you go home this summer?” Cecily asked.
“Heavens no!” Philippa exclaimed. “I only went for a few weeks that first year because the queen insisted. I have never been more bored in my life. Nay, I shall not go back to Friarsgate unless forced to it.”
“Your life will not be particularly exciting this summer, as you must go to Woodstock with the queen rather than on progress,” Cecily noted.
“I know,” Philippa groaned. “We leave in just a few days, but you go tomorrow, Ceci, and I shall be devastated by your going.”
“Tony has promised that we will come back to court for Christmas. Until then we will live on his estate.”
“Will you go there after the wedding?” Philippa asked as she folded up several pairs of sleeves, and tucked them into Cecily’s little trunk.
“Nay. We will go to Everleigh, the original manor of the FitzHughs, in the Marches. We are to remain a month, and then move on to Deanemere, which will be our home,” Cecily said. “Everleigh is quite remote, and small. It will suit us perfectly, as we will be unable to entertain any visitors. My family hasn’t lived there in some time, but the house has always been kept up and in good repair.”
“I will miss you,” Philippa said.
“And I you,” Cecily responded.
“It will never be the same again between us now that you are to be wed, and I am not,” Philippa remarked.
“But we will always be best friends,” Cecily replied.
“Always!” Philippa agreed.
Chapter 3
