“The salamander is the French king’s personal sign, but from what you have said he is innocent of any involvement in this plot. His mother, however, is another matter altogether. The woman is fiercely ambitious, and I would put nothing past her. She would do anything for her son, but murdering a king of England, his queen, and the cardinal is quite a grand scheme. I wonder if she knows, or if these men are acting on their own? Still, I shall have to speak to the cardinal, and he may want to talk to you, Philippa. How fortunate it is that you overheard this intrigue. You are certain that these conspirators did not see you.”
“Of course they saw me when the dust died down, and they accosted me for they were afraid, but I pretended not to understand them. I spoke English to them, and was quite imperious. Make way for the countess of Witton!” She giggled. “The one called Pierre wanted to strangle me, but the one called Michel said my clothing indicated I was of some importance, and there would be questions. He thought since I didn’t speak French it would be safe to let me go, and so they did. I was frightened to death, but I never showed it. And I was quite rude, as they expected an English lady to be when dealing with mere French minions,” she finished with a grin.
“You could have been killed,” he said softly. He felt his heart ache at the thought of losing her. Not once had he ever told her he loved her, but he realized now that he did. What if she had died never knowing that he loved her?
Outside there came a great shouting, and Peter ran out to see what it was. He came back several minutes later to tell them that the French king’s huge pavilion had just blown away in the windstorm. “Their tents were flimsily affixed, my lord. There has been but slight damage among our tents.”
Taking Philippa by the shoulders, the earl looked down into her face. “Promise me that you will remain here, little one. I must go and speak with Wolsey It is up to him to decide what to do about this matter.” He kissed her forehead. “I will come for you if the cardinal wants to see you. Go with no one else. Do you understand?”
She nodded, and watched as he left her. There had been an odd look in his eye when he had spoken to her that she did not understand. Philippa stood up, and then sat down again. The realization of the danger she had been in was now beginning to sink in. She looked after Crispin, but he had quickly gone. He had been very angry when he had first found her. She had accused him of being jealous. Was he jealous? And if he was, why was he jealous? He had to know she would do nothing to bring shame upon his good name. She knew he knew that. So why was he jealous?
A tiny curl of possibility began to awaken in her brain. Was it possible, just possible, that Crispin St. Claire actually cared for his wife? Liked her? Loved her? She had no knowledge other than that he had given her, but surely a man did not make love to his wife the way her husband did if there was not something pleasing about the lady. Philippa sighed. The queen would not know such things. Royalty were different from ordinary folk. Lucy would not know. Her practical serving woman had never been in love in her life. Only her mother would have such answers. But she was in France, and Rosamund was in the north of England. Philippa sat quietly waiting. She had no other choice in the matter.
“Is there another banquet tonight?” Lucy was at her side.
Philippa nodded. “Go to one of the queen’s women, and say I ask to be excused. That the wind and the dust have given me a terrible aching in my head. That I will wait upon her highness in the morning before the mass.”
“Are you alright?” Lucy wanted to know.
“I am not certain,” Philippa responded. “Go now!”
“I’ll come right back,” Lucy promised, and hurried off.
Now that the storm had passed, Peter led their horses back outside and tied them to the railing set up for that purpose. Returning, he shoveled up the manure and removed it. Lucy returned, and Philippa gathered the two servants to her side and told them what she had overheard, and that the earl had gone to inform the cardinal.
“You can say nothing,” she warned them. “I do not know what the cardinal will do, but I expect he will want to catch the conspirators if he can. We must give them no advantage over us,” Philippa finished.
“What a terrible thing!” Lucy said, genuinely shocked.
“I’ll keep me ears open, and me mouth shut,” Peter offered.
Philippa smiled. “It will all be resolved to the good,” she assured them.
“You might have been killed,” Lucy said. “And what would I have told your mother then? And Annie would have killed me.”
The remark made Philippa laugh. “I fear life back in England is going to be intolerably dull for us, Lucy,” she teased her serving woman.
Both Lucy and Peter chortled.
“It has surely been more interesting for me since you married my master,” Peter admitted with a small grin. “If your ladyship doesn’t mind me saying so.”
Crispin returned with the news that the cardinal wanted to see Philippa, but that he would come under cover of darkness to their pavilion, for it would seem odd if she appeared in his quarters. There were too many people around the cardinal, and that would lead to too many questions. He would come after the evening’s banquet.
“I have sent word to the queen that I am ill,” Philippa said. “I did not think I could face a large gathering tonight so soon after learning what I did this afternoon.”
The earl nodded. “I will go, and I will bring Wolsey back here myself with only one servant. No one will think it odd that we are together given my previous service.” He smiled a small smile. “Here I was supposed to be the one listening for information that might be of use to the king, and I have heard nothing that everyone else does not know, until today when my wife stumbled upon a scheme that could change the face of our world as we know it. Thank God you did overhear these men, Philippa, but I am even more grateful that you escaped them unscathed.” His previous anger over her foolish visit to King Francois seemed now to be forgotten.
“I have told Peter and Lucy,” Philippa said. Why did his eyes warm so when he looked at her?
“Aye, they should know, and they are wise enough to keep silent,” he replied. Then he put his arms about her and tipped her face up to his. “Promise me you will go nowhere alone until this matter is settled,” he said.
“I promise,” she said breathlessly, and then he kissed her tenderly, and Philippa melted against him. If only he would love her, she thought, and then wondered why such an idea had come into her head. She was his wife. It didn’t matter if he loved her or not. But it did, she suddenly realized. But why did it matter? She didn’t understand why it mattered so much to her. Yet it did. She wanted to go home to England. She wanted to see her mother, who could surely explain all these puzzlements to her.
“You must not think when I kiss you,” he gently teased her.
“I was thinking how much I like it when you kiss me,” she flattered him. “I believe that I like being married to you, my lord husband.”
His heart leapt beneath his doublet. “I am glad that you do, Philippa, for I find that I enjoy being your husband. Far more than I ever anticipated.” He kissed her again. “I miss our bedsport,” he murmured in her ear. “Do you?”
