“Nay,” he insisted. “Now, countess, just look at those adorable little breasts of yours. They plead with me to be caressed.” He bent his ash brown head and kissed one of her nipples. “Do you not see? It is pointing at me, for I see no other here it points to, do you, madame?” He was grinning at her.
“You are a wicked man, my lord earl,” she scolded him, but she was smiling. Then she pushed past him, and climbing back into the small tub she sat down and washed herself free of any residue of their shared passions. Then standing up again she instructed him, “Bring that smaller cauldron of water, for the bath is too cool to be comfortable for you.” She stepped from the tub and began to dry herself off again.
He reheated the little tub and then, pulling the remainder of his clothing off, he climbed in and began to wash himself. When he had finished she helped him dry himself. He donned his shirt, and she was already in her chemise. Gathering up their clothing they walked upstairs past the lovely hall, and climbed a second flight of steps up to their bedchamber.
“Call Lucy, and tell her to go to bed,” he whispered to her.
She nodded. “But remember we must leave at the very hour of dawn,” Philippa said. She drew back the coverlet for him, taking the shirt before he entered their bed. Then she called Lucy, and bid her go to bed. “We depart early,” she reminded her tiring woman. “But put the tub away before you sleep,” she concluded.
Lucy nodded. “I’ll see to it, and then lock the kitchen door. Peter is in the stables with the others for the night, my lady. Good night. Good night, my lord.” Then she was gone, and Philippa could hear her footsteps hurrying off down the corridor.
“Come to bed,” Crispin called sleepily.
Philippa drew off her chemise and laid it aside before climbing in with her husband. She smiled when he wrapped his arms about her. He was already sleepy, she knew, and sure enough the earl was shortly snoring. But in the dark hours of the night he awoke, and made passionate love to her before falling asleep again.
“Won’t be able to do that again until we reach France,” he murmured in her ear.
“The king and the queen would be shocked by your lust, my lord,” she teased him, but Philippa had thought it too. In the past few weeks she had become less prudish about their coupling. It had been from the very beginning a pleasurable experience lying with her husband. Obviously the queen did not find it so, although she had certainly never said it. How sad, Philippa considered. She wondered if every woman had such delight in bedsport with her husband.
The next day dawned fair, and they saw the sunrise on the road to Canterbury. It was the twenty-fourth day of May. The closer they came to the town, the more crowded the roads they traveled became. Finally reaching Canterbury where they would meet up with the court, they found their way to a small inn, the Swan, where Lord Cambridge had thoughtfully arranged for them to stay. But the inn was so crowded that Peter was housed in the stable loft with several other men, and Lucy slept on a trundle bed in her lord and lady’s room.
The emperor had not yet arrived but was expected any day. Philippa reported to the queen, who was pleased to see her.
“You are happy, my child?” she inquired solicitously.
“Very,” Philippa admitted, “but I am ready to serve you, madame.”
“When we return,” the queen said, “I am releasing you from my service. I have women aplenty around me, and you have been as your sire before you, most faithful to the house of Tudor. Now, however, your first duty must be to supply your husband with an heir. No one knows this requirement of a successful marriage better than I do, child.”
“But, madame,” Philippa protested, “I am willing to serve you forever!”
The queen reached out and touched the young woman’s face gently. “I know that, my dear,” she said. “If I have been fortunate in anything, it is the love that both you and your good mother have borne me. But like Rosamund you must now live your own life, not live that life through me. I have allowed you and your husband to come to France with us on this glorious progress as a reward for your faithfulness. But when we return, Philippa, I shall bid you adieu. You will always be welcome at court, but I know that you know your first duty is to provide children for your husband’s family.”
“Ohh, madame, my heart is broken,” Philippa said, and her eyes filled with tears. “I should have never wed if I knew I could no longer serve you.”
“Nonsense! ”The queen laughed softly. “You are not the proper material for the church, despite your passionate declarations last year. Like your mother before you, you are meant to be a wife and a mother yourself. There is nothing else for a woman, Philippa. Now dry your eyes. You are among my prettiest ladies, and I want you to be with us when we greet my nephew’s arrival.”
“Very well, madame,” Philippa replied. When she managed to see her husband later that evening she told him, half angrily, of the queen’s decision.
“I am sorry,” he said, “but the queen does what she thinks is best for you. We are very fortunate to have her friendship, Philippa. If we have a daughter she may one day serve the queen, or Princess Mary.”
“We are still welcome at court,” Philippa answered him. “We will come for the Christmas revels, won’t we?”
“Let us see when we return from France, and from visiting your family in the north, how we feel about it. You could be with child, Philippa, and all that traveling might not be good for you. I could not bear it if anything happened to you.”
“Why?” she said cruelly. “You have the lands you sought.”
“Because I find you are of equal value to me as the lands,” he told her quietly.
She was surprised by his words. “Are you falling in love with me?” she asked him frankly.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Our acquaintance is still new. Do you think you could ever love me, Philippa?”
She thought a long moment, and then replied, “I am not certain yet. I have seen what love looks like, how it can raise you to the heights, yet pain you deeply. I thought that I loved Giles FitzHugh but obviously I did not, for his loss is long gone from my memory and my heart. I think if I had really loved him it would not be.”
“But can you love me one day, Philippa?” he repeated.
“I don’t know,” she teased him. “Our acquaintance is still new, Crispin.”
