The two sisters grinned, but did her bidding, helping each other to rinse their long auburn hair free of soap, then pinning it up so they might continue their bath. When they had finished they climbed from the tub, one at a time, and Lucy wrapped them each in large towels that she had been heating before the fire. She handed Banon a towel for her hair, but sat Philippa down and began to dry her hair herself. Philippa was, after all, her mistress, not Banon. By toweling and brushing the hair before the heat of the fire Lucy soon had the bride’s hair dry.
“I’ll dress you first, Mistress Banon,” she told the younger girl. “I have your gown all ready.” She helped Banon into her stockings and garters, and her round-necked silk chemise. Then she held out the bodice forBanon to fit her arms into the attached sleeveswhich were fitted to the elbow, and then folded back in a wide cuff to show the puffed sleeves of her silk chemise. Finally came the shake fold and the petticoats followed by the skirt of the gown. The garment was rose silk brocade. It had a square neckline embroidered with a band of gold and silver ribbon. The wide cuffs were rose and gold brocade. Banon’s slippers were covered in the same brocade fabric as was her neat little English hood with its gauzy short veil. She wore a simple gold chain about her neck with a pearl, ruby, and gold cross.
“That color is so flattering on you,” Philippa said. “I think it must be your blue eyes. Our hair is so similar, and yet that shade of rose is not a good color for me at all.”
“I want to see your gown now,” Banon said. “The material was simply gorgeous.”
Philippa had already dressed herself in her stockings and undergarments while Banon was being dressed. She smiled at her sister’s comment, and then Lucy fitted the bodice of Philippa’s ivory silk brocade wedding gown onto her mistress. The wide sleeves were slashed, and tied with gold cords, but fitted at the wrists and edged with a lace ruffle. The neckline of the gown was square, and decorated with embroidered gold ribbon and pearls. The skirts of Philippa’s wedding gown were split in the front to reveal the ivory and gold velvet underskirt which was embroidered and quilted.
“Oh, sister,” Banon breathed admiringly, “you simply must be painted in that gown! I so wish mama were here to see you.”
“You know the spring is a bad time for her,” Philippa said. “She will be at your wedding, and I shall see her then. Crispin and I must marry today, for the queen wishes us to be man and wife when we join the court to go to France.”
“Will you always serve Queen Katherine?” Banon asked.
“Of course,” Philippa said.
“There have been rumors that the king is not happy with her because she cannot give him an heir,” Banon murmured.
“They have Princess Mary to follow the king,” Philippa said. “The king has no choice unless the queen dies. She is his wife, no matter her deficiencies, until death.”
“I have heard it said the king could divorce the queen should he choose,” Banon replied. “That he could wed a new, younger, and more fertile wife. Other Christian kings have done it in an effort to get an heir.”
“That cannot be so!” Philippa snapped. “A Christian marriage is until death, Banon. I hope you have not repeated such dreadful gossip around the court.”
Banon shook her head. “I listen,” she told her older sister. “Nothing more.”
“Good,” Philippa replied, slipping her brocade slippers onto her feet.
There was a knock, and the door sprang open to reveal Lord Cambridge. He entered the bedchamber and, one hand over his heart, he stepped back dramatically, exclaiming, “My darling girl, you look magnificent! You really must be immortalized in that gown. I shall speak to the earl myself.” He took her hand and kissed it.
“Banon said I should be painted too,” Philippa responded. Then she stepped up before him, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Uncle Thomas, for everything you have done for me. You have obtained a far better match for me than I could have ever hoped for, and I am grateful.”
“You seem to like him, darling girl, and I do want you to be happy,” Tom Bolton said. “And I believe it is more than just the land for him now. He seems quite taken with you after these last few weeks. He is a good man, Philippa. That I know in my heart. I should not let you wed him today if I did not believe that. I promised your mother to look after you, and you know that she is dearest to my heart of anyone else living in this world. I would not fail her nor you.” He took a lock of her unbound hair up in his fingers, and kissed it.
“Aye, I know,” Philippa replied. Then she smiled at him. “Uncle dearest, you are dressed most soberly today. No embroidered doublet glistening with gold threads and pearls? No brightly colored silk hose or a bejeweled codpiece? Today is my wedding day, and you appear in a midnight blue velvet coat with furred sleeves? If it were not for the outrageous gold chain upon your chest with its great sparkling pendant, I should hardly recognize you,” she teased him. “Even your shoes are plain.”
He chortled. “Today is your day, darling girl. I would not outshine the bride, but I have seen to your bridegroom’s apparel. He is a vision in Tudor green. His sleeves are slashed and embroidered. His shirt collar has a pleated edge. His coat is full, short and pleated as well, and his codpiece! My darling girl, it is a work of art, as you shall soon see! I am most envious of the fellow, and should be quite jealous were he marrying anyone else but you. He is in the hall now, his sisters alternately twittering and weeping about him. I have left young Neville with him. Where are your jewels?”
“I was just about to adorn her when you come in, my lord,” Lucy said, and then she put a great rope of pearls about her mistress’s neck and affixed the matching pearl earbobs in the girl’s ears. “There now, don’t they look just fine!”
“Are we all ready then?” Lord Cambridge asked. “Lucy, you too.”
“Me? Oh, my lord, thank you! Give me but a moment to fetch my apron,” she cried.
“Be quick then, lass!” he told her. “The vessels are ready to take us to Richmond, where one of the queen’s chaplains will perform the sacrament. Go along, Banon, and your sister and I shall be behind in but a moment.” He gently shooed the girl out the door. Turning, he looked to his young relation. “I should not be the one to speak with you of such things, but who else, darling girl, is there?” He appeared extremely uncomfortable.
Philippa giggled. “It’s alright, Uncle Thomas. I know exactly what it is I need to know about such matters. The queen, the other maids, my sister, and Lucy have been most kind about sharing their wisdom with me. And I have been advised by the queen that too much knowledge is not a good thing for a bride.”
“Thank God!” He breathed with a great sigh. “I fear I should have swooned before I could have spoken to you of such delicate concerns.”
“I’m ready, my lord!” Lucy was back, her simple black silk gown covered with a lace and lawn apron.
“Then we are indeed ready to go,” Lord Cambridge decided.
They found everyone else awaiting them in the hall. The earl’s eyes met Philippa’s, and she gave him a tremulous smile. Lady Marjorie and Lady Susanna admired the bride’s gown effusively.
“The barges await, my lord,” William Smythe said as he came up to Lord Cambridge’s elbow.
