by Abby Gordon
“This is Rose,” Alicia finally spoke with a bit of humor as the girl could only stare at him.
“Hello, Rose,” Daffyd said kindly, as if she were slow in the head.
“You’re so splendid,” she blurted with an awed tone.
“You’re too kind,” he replied, smiling with a slight bow. “I’m just trying to get a hit on Owain on the few chances he drops his guard.”
“You will,” Rose said earnestly.
Owain called out in Welsh and Daffyd replied in kind before turning back to them.
“Be careful of the sun,” he warned. “It’ll turn that pretty nose of yours red quickly.”
With a wink, he rejoined his cousins and Rose sighed.
“I think he liked you,” murmured Alicia, smiling down at Rose.
“Don’t be daft,” Rose retorted, loving the comment even as she denied it. “A knight like him would never look at a maid like me except to –” Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. “To use for a night.”
“Sir Daffyd didn’t strike me as that kind of man,” Alicia told her as they headed back inside. “Now, let’s see if Anna has managed to stay out of trouble.”
“She went riding with the queen,” Rose reminded her. “She couldn’t get into trouble if she tried.”
Alicia laughed as they went inside.
“When you’ve known Anna longer you will realize that she doesn’t have to try to get into trouble. She just ends up in trouble.”
“You’ve lived mostly in France, haven’t you?” Rose dared ask. She’d been around the pair two months now and wasn’t afraid of asking more probing questions. “Where were you?”
“Normandy and Gascony,” Alicia answered easily.
“With the Roots?”
Alicia’s light green eyes turned to her. “Mostly.”
“So what trouble could she get into with them?” Seeing the hesitation in the leaf colored eyes, Rose decided to show what she’d learned. “I think there’s much more to Lady Anna than either of you are saying. I think Walsingham and Lady Ursula know. But the queen doesn’t.”
That got a harsh response. Alicia grabbed her arm and hauled her into an alcove.
“Do not threaten to tell the queen or anyone else anything about Lady Anna.”
“I wouldn’t,” protested Rose. “I swear I wouldn’t. I just wanted you to know what I’ve seen. What I’ve heard and figured out.” She shook her head several times. “I wouldn’t hurt Lady Anna or tell anyone what I think. I’m telling you because I think she’s already been very hurt. Deeply. And so have you,” she took a deep breath. “I’ve heard Lady Anna talk in her sleep.” The fingers eased on her arm and she lifted sorrow-filled eyes to the older woman. “Something terrible happened to her. To you. I can see the truth now in your eyes, Alicia. The Walsinghams know but no one else here at court. Lady Ursula mentioned her grandmother that day the dressmaker was there and how tragic news killed her. There were tears in Lady Anna’s eyes.” Rose caught her breath. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm Lady Anna. I want to be able to help her in anyway I can. In some ways, you’re both like the older sisters I’ve never had. The way you treat me, teach me things I don’t think Walsingham would want me to know.” She gave Alicia an impish grin. “I think Lady Anna would teach me even if he tried to order her not to.”
As she spoke, Rose could see Alicia considering her words, then smiling at the last.
“She would indeed. Keep whatever you think you know to yourself, or tell only me or Anna. I can’t promise you the truth,” Alicia cautioned. “The truth could get you killed.”
“I wouldn’t tell,” Rose vowed earnestly. “Ever.”
Rose didn’t understand the sadness or fear that flickered across Alicia’s face.
“Be careful what you promise, young Rose,” murmured Alicia, pulling her out of the alcove and to continue down the corridor. “You might one day have to keep it.”
Bored with swords, and losing to his brother, Griffin moved to the archery. Ever ready for more though, Daffyd crouched opposite Owain, listening to the rapid Welsh. In the back of his mind though, he could see a pair of earnest admiring gray eyes and a shy voice that warmed his blood. Too young, he told himself, thrusting and quickly spinning out of Owain’s parry. Sweet little thing though. He hoped Lady Anna and Alicia kept an eye on her. Little Rose would attract all the wrong sorts as her slim body blossomed. And there would be nothing she could do to defend herself.
His lip curled in an anger he didn’t understand, and he lunged at his cousin, swinging the sword up and then slashing suddenly. That act surprised Owain who barely caught it with his weapon and countered. Finally calling a halt, the older man studied him a moment.
“Perhaps we should have more maids in the training yard,” he commented.
Lifting his pouch of ale, Daffyd frowned at him.
“Why?”
“You seem to put a bit more energy into things,” smirked Owain, raising his own leather of ale. “After they left though, not while she was still watching you.”
“She was hardly watching me when you were there,” muttered Daffyd, half wishing his cousin’s words were true.
Chuckling, Owain shook his head as he put the pouch down and started to dress. “You have much to learn about women.”
“I do?” Daffyd laughed. “What about you?”
“Oh, I know a fair bit about them,” Owain shrugged into his tunic. “But no man ever knows all about women.”
“I meant you and one in particular.”
That earned him a puzzled glance from a man not often confused.
“Which one has been talking now?”
“One who steals glances at you whenever she can as if trying to figure out one man in particular. And around whom mysteries swirl.”
“Daffyd, Griffin loves to act like this and it pisses me off,” Owain warned him.
“Lady Anna,” Daffyd answered, knowing that tone and the temper that quickly followed. “She likes looking at you nearly as much as you look at her.”
“She’s much in the company of the queen,” replied Owain, voice as bland as his expression.
Having been around his cousins, trained in the ways of the Order of the Rose as much as they, and more in certain areas, Daffyd bit back a smile but considered the woman he’d named and how she affected his cousin. He liked Lady Anna and suspected much about her. And her Alicia had come to the training yard to learn more about Owain. That was unusual. Which lead to further questions about how Owain was reacting to the mysterious woman Walsingham had introduced to the court two months ago.
“And she isn’t difficult to watch,” Daffyd allowed. “I’ve never seen such a pale blue color of the eyes. Extraordinary.”
“Have a care with the lady,” Owain warned. “There are things about her that have not yet been revealed.”
“That even a fool could have realized,” retorted Daffyd. And what has young Rose been told? Or deduced on her own? That’s a girl with sharp eyes even if she says little. And if there is danger about Lady Anna, then Rose would be at risk as well. And why does that concern me?
“And you are not a fool,” agreed the older. “Again, have a care of how you speak of her. And who is around when you do.”
With that, Owain strode across the yard toward the stable. Reflecting on what had been said, and not spoken, Daffyd retrieved his discarded tunic and jacket to head to the Seven Roses. He had promised Walsingham’s senior man Danker that he would review new information about an Italian banker.
Within days of her arrival, Anna had arranged for Rose to begin meeting with cabin boys from the docks who gave her slips of paper. She then took them to Alicia. One day, Alicia scribbled on parchment and wrapped it in a linen square.
“Go take this to Anna,” she told Rose.
“But she’s in the garden,” the girl stared at her. “With the queen.”
“They’re walking around like they always do,” Alicia said calmly. “Wait for the que
en to pass, curtsy and bow your head and wait for Anna. Then just hand her this. She’ll know what to say and do.”
“All right,” Rose agreed, secretly excited to be so involved.
A guard recognized her as answering to Lady Anna and let her pass, murmuring that the queen’s mood was uncertain. Thanking him, Rose positioned herself ahead of the laughing voices. Yawned in a lord’s face? Lady Anna is quite bold at times! The queen was in view and Rose stared at her in awe, her mouth open as the monarch approached. Barely in time, Rose remembered to curtsy and drop her head, hearing her murmur to Lady Lettys.
“It does me good to see that expression. Reminds me that no matter what Walsingham lectures on about, I am still the queen and am seen as such.”
Then Lady Anna was there, walking between Sir Owain and Sir Griffin. Rose stared at the sight of a scarlet and gold rose in her bodice. Lady Anna saw her, approached and grinned in understanding as she chatted about sniffling and sneezing. Barely hiding her grin, Rose bobbed at the gentlemen and hurried away before she ruined it by laughing.
Inside, Rose slowed her pace and caught her breath. Scarlet and gold. Why would Lady Anna be wearing the colors of Catalan and York? Shaking her head, she went to the back stairs and started climbing.
Chapter Eight York – late July
“Celeste! Celeste! Blast it all! Where is the girl?” Thomas Black’s bellows could be heard throughout and within the manor. He grabbed at Al and shook him roughly. “You, boy. Where’s my daughter?”
“In the—in the garden, sir,” gasped Al.
Shoving the boy away, Black strode through the main hall, shouting as he did.
Warned by the kitchen maid sent by Bessie, Celeste was already hurrying from the rear gardens. Oh, sweet angels, what on earth has happened now? Joan, where’s Joan? She said she was going to visit Julia. Why I’ve no idea and didn’t ask. The little minx wants to cultivate an air of mystery. Again, I’ve no idea why. She ought to be cultivating a sense of manners and composure, a sense of dignity and respect in taking care of a household.
She could hear her father’s voice. It didn’t sound as if it were drawing closer. Probably standing on the path waiting for me to appear. Well, I won’t yell back at him. Celeste winced. That was certainly not the sense of respect a daughter should have toward her father, but she was getting quite exasperated with her entire family. John was spending more time with Edmund and his men. Joan was becoming more indulgent and demanding as the summer wore on. And her father? She simply didn’t know what to make of him. Ever since he’d returned from his trip in early May, he has become quite difficult to predict.
“Father?” she called as she neared the front path. Rounding the last protective hedge for the herbs, she saw him to her right. As I expected – feet planted apart and hands on hips. As if he were posing to be good King Hal himself. “Father, what’s wrong?”
“Ah, there you are. Where the blazes have you been?” he demanded, then waved his hand. “Never mind. It’s of no consequence. We must prepare a feast tonight.”
Shocked, she stopped several paces away. “What? Tonight? Father, that’s impossible.”
“Imperative,” he insisted, slapping his thigh. “Everything must be perfect.”
“Father, it’s nearly midday. We’ve had no warning at all. Tomorrow night—”
“No, I tell you,” he thundered, striding toward and looming over her. “It must be tonight and as if for the monarch.”
“What?” she breathed. “Surely not the queen?”
“Well,” he scowled. “The Duke of Norfolk then. Yes, that would be better. Much better.”
“Bessie might poison us all,” Celeste warned him, gathering up her skirts to hurry past him to the kitchen. “Really, Father? You couldn’t have said something last night? Or even this morn?”
He grabbed her upper arm and twisted her around to face him. “Don’t tell me when I should tell you something, girl. Your job is to make sure things are done when I want them done.”
“I can’t get them done properly if I don’t know when you need them,” she countered.
“You can be replaced, you know,” he shook her, glaring at her.
“By whom, Father?” she asked calmly though she trembled inside. “By Joan?” Pointedly she reminded him of her sister’s refusal and then her pitiful attempt in May to run the manor. That lesson of Celeste appreciation had quickly been forgotten by her family. “By Julia?” Her oldest cousin was an even worse example of a housekeeper than Joan. Celeste still couldn’t understand how her aunt had trained her niece so well and her daughter so poorly. “Meggie would be able to, but you and even John would terrify her into her room with one of your scowls.”
“Just get it done,” hissed her father, squeezing her arm then shoving her away. “Our guest arrives at sunset.”
In disbelief, Celeste watched him walk away. A feast? In only a few hours? Heaven help us. Shaking her head, she went to the one woman in the entire household she could confide in at all – Bessie.
As she neared the kitchen doorway, the woman was waiting on the step.
“Oh, I don’t like the looks of this,” the cook muttered. “Not after himself was shouting the place down.”
“You’ll like it even less,” Celeste warned. “He wants a feast that would be fit for the Duke of Norfolk. This evening by sunset.”
“He never?” exclaimed the older woman staring at her in astonishment.
“He wanted the queen, but I talked him out of that,” sighed Celeste, shaking her head. “Bessie, I almost wonder if he took ill during his spring trip and told none of us.”
“Anything is possible,” Bessie frowned. “Although how we’re supposed to come up with a fit for a Duke feast might need a miracle.”
“I started praying as soon as Father started talking,” Celeste told her with a knowing smile that was returned. “Well, then. To start. What do we have on hand?”
“How many?”
“He didn’t say,” replied Celeste. “So, let’s at least assume the Elders and their families. Plus, the senior captains. Perhaps the archbishop and a few justices?”
“Right then,” Bessie nodded, opening the door to the food cellars. “So, forty seniors, plus forty below the salt.”
As it turned out, they were partly right and partly wrong. While the Elders and their families were present, few others from York were. Most of the guests were squires sworn to Northumberland and from the northern part of the shire who came with the guest of honor – Sir Thomas Richland of Jonal Park.
Celeste took an immediate dislike to the arrogant, verbose man but wouldn’t have been able to describe why to anyone. Except perhaps Meggie who stared at him with a fear Celeste had rarely seen in her. Timid as her cousin was, she wasn’t normally fearful.
“Meggie? Are you ill?” she whispered leaning towards her cousin as her partner had abandoned his seat to move closer to where the Black brothers and Richland were talking at the center of the high table. “You’ve hardly eaten.”
Her sweet cousin gave her a shy smile. “It’s all quite delicious, Celly,” she assured her. “You and Bessie did wonders with so little notice.”
“Bessie will take days to placate,” Celeste smiled, noting how Julia had gone to sit with Edmund Talbor. Edward was moving about the men in a jovial mood. “She insists a proper feast requires at least two days to prepare. But what is it? You’ve hardly said more than ‘hello’ to me since you’ve arrived.”
“I overheard Father and Uncle Thomas talking this afternoon,” Meggie whispered, glancing furtively toward the center. “They were talking about marrying me to Sir Thomas and Joan to his brother Sir Richard.”
“Well, that seems a good match if a bit far from York,” Celeste offered. “I’ve heard Jonal Park is a good size parcel for a knight.”
“Sir Thomas frightens me,” Meggie shook her head. “Something about his eyes. The way he looks at me. It makes me feel unclean.”
Startled at her
cousin’s description, Celeste found she had nothing to say to that. For it was the way she had felt as well. Meggie pulled back, assiduously applying herself to her plate. Celeste felt eyes on her and slowly turned her head to find the cold blue eyes of Sir Richard on her. When she met his gaze, his mouth curved into a slow, wicked smile that left her as unclean as Meggie had said. Shivering and not caring who saw, Celeste whipped her head around and saw Meggie watching with a calm ‘see? I told you’ expression. Nodding, Celeste swallowed and tried to eat, but found the thought of another bite made her stomach roil.
One month later
The mattress shifted and Meggie muttered to herself. Hearing noise in the room, she quickly lifted her head and glanced around. Seeing her older sister dressing before the hearth, the girl frowned. Why is she up? I hear no alarm.
“Julia? Is there a fire?”
“No, silly,” hissed the elder, pulling on her stockings. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why ever are you getting dressed?” Meggie wondered, sitting up. “We’ve just gone to bed.”
“I’m going out,” Julia replied, tying up her boots.
“Out?” Meggie echoed, stunned. “But… but why? How? Where?”
“Because I’m tired of living like an oh-so-proper lady like goody-goody Celeste,” Julia snapped, standing and reaching for her dark cloak. “She’s all thrilled that she’s betrothed to Edward.” Julia snorted as she lifted the hood to cover her fair hair. “Edward who’s been passed over for a bastard.”
“You wanted Edward yourself,” Meggie reminded her, frowning at the criticism of their cousin. “You were quite forward and bold in trying to get his interest this past spring.”
“The man is an imbecile. Who let’s himself get passed over for a bastard? He’s not said a word about any of it,” grumbled Julia, scowling at the thought. “But, Edmund, now there’s a man. He knows the world and what he wants to do with it.” A smile curved her lips that made Meggie shudder. “I’ll bet he knows what to do with a woman as well.”
“Julia, stay away from him,” begged the younger sister. “Please. I’ve heard terrible things from the maids at Talbor Manor. He’s tried to force himself on any he catches alone, and he’s caught three. Poor things,” she whispered.