“Never!” Philippa declared. “But do not distress yourself, Ceci. I shall not be the kind of girl a man like Sir Walter would marry even at his most lustful. Like Millicent, he is a fellow who takes very seriously how he is perceived by the court. I shall toy with him just enough to anger and frustrate Millicent. Perhaps I shall even let him kiss me, making certain she knows about it, of course. Then I shall abruptly move on to another gentleman, making Sir Walter look like a fool, and glad for a girl like Millicent Langholme. Actually the wench will owe me a great debt of gratitude.”
“I doubt she will see it that way,” Cecily laughed.
“Perhaps not,” Philippa agreed with an arch half-smile.
“I never suspected that you could be so wicked,” Cecily remarked.
“Neither did I,” Philippa agreed with a grin. “I rather like it.”
“You must be careful lest the queen catch you at your mischief,” Cecily said, looking about to see if anyone was near enough to hear them, but they were at the far end of the queen’s antechamber.
“She would not expect it of me. Perhaps I shall begin my flirtation this evening. The king has arranged for us to picnic by the riverside in the long twilight. There will be paper lanterns, and before it grows too dark we shall shoot arrows at some butts being set up. Sir Walter is noted for his marksmanship. I think I shall be very bad at archery, Ceci. And I shall stand near him. Being chivalrous, he will certainly want to help me.”
“But you are an excellent archer!” Cecily protested.
“Well, it is unlikely he knows that,” Philippa said. “And if he does I will pretend that it is dust in my eye, spoiling my aim.”
“If Millicent sees it she will be furious,” Cecily remarked.
“Yes,” Philippa giggled, “but she can do naught about it for the match has not been completely set yet. Nothing is signed. Believe me, if it were we should not hear the end of it. She will not be able to scold her intended husband quite yet. Poor fellow. Were he not so pompous I should almost feel sorry for him.”
“Well, he is pompous,” Cecily said. “I wonder if you shall be able to lure him at all. You are not important at all, Philippa.”
“Ah, but I was good enough for the earl of Renfrew’s son before he decided to take holy orders,” Philippa answered. “He will be curious enough to be tempted.”
Cecily shook her head. “I think Giles is well rid of you,” she teased her friend.
Philippa swatted at her with a chuckle. “Perhaps, yet he still hurt me by being so dishonest, and allowing me to believe we would wed when I turned fifteen. I think he knew at least a year ago what he really wanted. Would that he had been brave and honest enough at the time to say so. He has really placed me in a most difficult position.”
“It will be alright,” Cecily soothed Philippa. “It was not meant to be.” Then changing the subject she said, “There are some gypsies camped off the London road. Let us go tomorrow, and have our fortunes told. I know Jane and Maggie will come too.”
“What fun!” Philippa exclaimed. “Yes, let us go,” she agreed.
In late afternoon the servants began setting up the tables by the riverside. Though they would be dining alfresco, white linen was spread on each board. Poles were driven into the ground for the lanterns. A pit had been dug earlier, and even now the venison was being turned slowly on its spit. The archery butts were set up. There were small punts drawn up on the shore for those courtiers who would enjoy a small excursion on the water in the early evening. A small platform was laid on the lawn, and chairs brought. Here the king’s musicians would seat themselves so that the court might dance country dances on the grass in the long twilight. It was the next to last day of May, and they would soon be removing to Richmond for a month until it was time for the summer progress to begin. The court would not be back in London until late autumn, for the air in the city was considered noxious and conducive to disease.
In the Maidens’ Chamber Philippa and her companions refreshed themselves, and dressed for the afternoon and evening’s entertainment. Despite her modest background Philippa Meredith always had the most elegant gowns, it was acknowledged among the queen’s maids. They were never the most lavish, but they were always the pinnacle of fashion and her good taste was greatly admired, and in some cases envied.
“I don’t know how she does it,” Millicent Langholme grumbled as she watched Philippa and her tiring woman. “She cannot be rich. Her mother is a sheep farmer, I am told. I don’t know why she is here at all, for her birth is so low.”
“You are jealous, Millicent,” Anne Chambers said. “Philippa’s father was Sir Owein Meredith, a simple knight ’tis true, but one who stood in great favor with the king, and the king’s father, for his deep and abiding loyalty to the house of Tudor. He was a Welshman, and served the Tudors since his childhood.”
“But her mother is a peasant!” Millicent persisted.
Anne laughed. “Her mother was the heiress to a great estate. She is hardly a peasant. And the gossip goes that she did the queen a great kindness at her own expense many years ago. The lady of Friarsgate spent part of her youth here at court in the company of two queens, both of whom call her friend, Millicent. You would be wise to consider these facts. Philippa Meredith is most popular among our companions. I know of no one who dislikes her, or says ill of her but you. Beware lest you be sent home in disgrace. The queen does not like those who are mean of spirit.”
“I shall be leaving soon anyway,” Millicent huffed.
“Is your marriage agreement then set?” Anne inquired.
“Well, almost,” Millicent replied. “There are a few trifling matters that my father insists be settled before he will sign the betrothal contracts.” She brushed her white-blond hair slowly. “He does not say what these matters are.”
“I have heard it said,” Jane Hawkins chimed in, “that Sir Walter wants more gold in your dower than your father has offered, and your father has had to go to the goldsmiths to borrow that gold. He is obviously anxious enough to be rid of you to put himself into debt, Millicent.”
“Oh, is that it?” Anne Chambers said innocently. “I had heard something about several bastards Sir Walter fathered, and one of them on the daughter of a London merchant who will have remuneration for his daughter’s lost virtue, support for his grandchild, and Sir Walter’s name for the lad.”
“That is an evil untruth!” Millicent cried. “Sir Walter is the most honorable and virtuous of men. He would never even look upon another girl now that he is to be betrothed to me. As for any women he may have approached in his youth, they are guilty and culpable whores who are no better than they ought to be. Do not dare to repeat such slander, or I shall complain to our mistress, the queen.”
Anne and Jane moved off giggling. They were more than aware of Philippa’s plan for Sir Walter, a pompous gentleman known for a lustful nature that he attempted to conceal. They had deliberately baited Millicent Langholme, knowing that she would be closely watching Sir Walter, and that she would be able to do nothing but fume when he succumbed to Philippa’s blandishments, which they were certain he would. None of Philippa’s friends had ever considered that she might do something like this, but she was changing before their very eyes. It was, of course, the result of her hurt feelings over Giles FitzHugh. But Millicent deserved what she was about to get.
