After sitting in the queen’s antechamber for several hours, the Earl of Leighton and the king’s servant were ushered into Queen Joan’s presence. The earl bowed low and kissed the elegant beringed hand held out to him.
“His Highness, the king, would have you aid this gentleman, madam,” the servant said, and then he backed from the room, leaving the earl to face the queen, along with her attendants, who sat about the chamber sewing and chattering softly.
“You are?” Queen Joan asked Robert Bowen seated in a high-backed chair, a footstool beneath her feet.
“Robert Bowen, the Earl of Leighton, madam,” he told her.
“What is it I may do for you, my lord?” the queen inquired of him softly.
Quietly, as carefully and quickly as he could, the earl explained his situation. He did not wish to heap criticism upon his wife, but he did need Queen Joan to understand the desperate situation that he faced in the matter of his daughter.
The queen nodded slowly, and when he had finished she said, “Aye, I can see the difficulty, my lord, but you are partly to blame for it. When you took your bride you were not firm with her. Your daughter should never have been made to live outside of your house in another dwelling. Like my dear late husband’s uncles were, you legitimated your daughter. Your wife was obviously spoiled and allowed to have her own way by her parents.” Queen Joan shook her head. “But even if your wife had accepted your little girl, it would be better that she be fostered out. She has a dower portion, I assume.”
“With the goldsmith Isaac Kira, in London,” the earl said, and then he told the queen the amount he had placed with the goldsmith.
The queen drew in a sharp breath. “Indeed, my lord, ’tis a considerable amount. You will have no trouble finding a worthy husband of impeccable breeding for your child one day. But for now we must find a suitable family for her.”
“I would be honored if you could suggest such a family, Your Highness,” the earl said. “My family is old. It is honorable. But we have always lived quietly, avoiding entanglements that might bring dishonor to us or those we serve.”
Queen Joan nodded. “There is nothing wrong with being prudent, my lord. Now tell me how old your daughter is.”
“She is seven, madam,” he answered.
“Has she been taught? What languages does she speak?” the queen continued.
“She speaks both English and French, and can understand church Latin, madam,” he told her. “She can do sums. She rides well, and her manners are good.”
“Then she is fit for the best company,” Queen Joan concluded. “Somerset’s widow has remarried herself to Thomas Plantagenet, the Duke of Clarence. She has left her children by John Beaufort in the care of others. Henry, the eldest, now holds his father’s titles, and remains in his own home. His three brothers are all fostered out, and serve different masters. His sisters are at home. The youngest will remain there for the interim, for she is only four, but I am considering bringing my namesake, Lady Joan Beaufort, who is almost nine, into the royal household. She is a sweet girl. Perhaps your daughter would make a good companion for her. Yes. I shall bring young Joan here, and your daughter will have a place among her maiden companions.” Queen Joan looked at the Earl of Leighton. “It is settled. Bring your daughter to me, my lord.”
Robert Bowen was astounded. Never had he anticipated such a high place for his wee Cicely! To be fostered within the royal house was an honor belonging to a greater name than his. “M-madam,” he stammered, and he flushed at his own awkwardness. “My family is not worthy of such an honor. Forgive me, but are you certain you would have my daughter? I am in your debt to such an extent I doubt I can ever repay you.”
“I am told you are clever with your investments, my lord.” Queen Joan surprised him again. “ ’Tis an interesting pursuit for one with so old and respected a name as yours. Is there truth to the rumor?”
He nodded. “My wife is extremely knowledgeable in such matters, having learned from her father in Firenze. I in turn have learned from her. I will advise you in any way that I can, madam. You have but to ask me.”
The queen nodded. “I will send to you now and again, my lord, for your thoughts in certain matters of finance. Now have your child delivered to my favorite home, Havering-atte-Bower, at the beginning of July. You may send a servant with her. When she is older I shall suggest a suitable match for her, with your permission, of course, my lord,” Queen Joan said graciously.
“Thank you, madam,” the Earl of Leighton said. He bowed again as, with a nod and a languid wave of her hand, the king’s stepmother dismissed him. Robert Bowen made his way from the queen’s chambers and found his cousin.
“What happened?” Sir William asked, and the earl told him all that had transpired. “What good fortune you have had, Rob!” his cousin exclaimed. “You will never have to worry about your Cicely again if she gets on with the other girls in Queen Joan’s household. You must instruct her to make certain that she pleases the queen in particular. If she has that lady’s favor her future will be secured.”
“I still cannot believe all of this,” the earl said. “Of course I cannot tell Luciana exactly what has transpired. She will be jealous that I have obtained such a fine place for my daughter. I think she would have preferred I give Cicely to the Church with a meager dower portion and never see my child again. A cloistered order would have been her choice,” Robert Bowen said with a wry smile.
“Does she not realize that if your daughter makes the right friends at court, and marries well, that all of that would be of advantage to your sons?” Sir William said.
“Nay, she does not envision such things,” the earl answered. “When she considers Cicely she sees only a rival for my affections.”
“I am sorry for you then, Rob,” his cousin replied. “Surely then little Lady Cicely is better off leaving Leighton Hall.”
Robert Bowen nodded, but his eyes were sad.
He returned home, stopping at the cottage where his daughter lived before seeing his wife. Cicely ran to greet him, welcoming him home. Orva stood in the door to the dwelling, and their eyes met, hers questioning him.
“Let us sit down by the hearth,” the earl said. “The air is damp, and the fog not yet lifted from the fields.” He took his daughter onto his lap as he lowered himself into a chair by the small fire.
Orva put a small goblet of wine that was kept for his visits by his hand, and then she sat down too. When Robert Bowen visited his child they did not stand on ceremony.
“I have had an extraordinary piece of luck, poppet,” the earl began.
“You have found a family to foster me, Papa?” she asked, and to his sorrow he heard the fear in her young voice.
“Not a family, poppet, but Queen Joan herself!” he replied, forcing an enthusiasm into his voice that he did not feel. “And you will have another young lass for company who is coming to Queen Joan as well. Her little namesake, Lady Joan Beaufort. She is a year or two older than you, I am told, but it will be her first time away from her home too. Her father is dead, and her mother remarried. Her older brother is the Earl of Somerset. They are the king’s cousins, poppet. This is incredible good fortune for you to be taken into a royal household. And Orva is to come with you.”
Cicely began to cry. “But I don’t want to leave Leighton Hall, Papa,” she told him. “Please don’t send me away! I will be good, I promise! I will never leave the cottage, and my stepmother will never see me again. I swear it!” She sobbed into his shoulder. “Please don’t make me go, Papa! Please!”
His heart was breaking, Robert Bowen thought, but he had no other choice. If Cicely remained Luciana would work herself into a dangerous fury. And he had no doubt that she would attempt to rid herself of the child in any manner possible. Swallowing down his own anguish, he said to his daughter, “Cicely, you are not being punished. This is a great honor you are being given, being allowed admittance into the royal household. Our family is an ancient one but unimportant. Our
lack of wealth has not allowed us to marry into the more prestigious families, nor gain any foothold on the rungs of power. Now we are gaining that wealth, but we have no entrée into the court. If you please Queen Joan with your sweetness and your manners you will have an opportunity to meet the most important folk in the land. And that will one day help our family to gain ingress into the court. Queen Joan will see that you make an advantageous marriage. And once you are involved in the court I shall be able to make the best matches for your brothers, thus increasing our family’s strength and importance. I need you to take this first step for Leighton.”
Cicely’s sniffling had stopped. She was an intelligent child. She heard and digested her father’s words carefully. She understood them. “What will you tell my stepmother, Papa?” she asked him astutely. “She will not be pleased I am going to court.”
“I will say that I have found a place for you in the house of a wealthy widow,” he said with a small smile. “In time she will learn the full truth, but knowing then that you can aid our sons one day will help to temper her jealousy towards you, I am certain.”
The child nodded. “Perhaps it will,” she agreed. “When must Orva and I leave? Where are we to go, Papa?”
“Havering-atte-Bower, which is Queen Joan’s favorite residence. It’s about fifteen miles from London. She wants you there in early July, so you have several weeks before you must leave Leighton.”
Orva had sat silent. Now she said candidly, “My lady will need proper clothing, my lord. She must have some jewelry, and an allowance to be paid quarterly. And her own horse. It won’t be easy seeing to these things, for your lady will not want to give Cicely anything. As you can see, the child’s gown is shabby and worn, as are all her few gowns. I do my best to keep them in good repair, but the material will go only so far, and Lady Cicely is growing. And I have had to loosen the stitching on the toes of her shoes, for her footwear no longer fits.”
“How is this possible?” the earl wanted to know. “My storage rooms are full with whatever you need, Orva.” His look was one of confusion.
“But the Lady Luciana holds the keys to those storerooms, my lord. She has refused my last two requests for material to make my little lady gowns,” Orva said.
“Why did you not come to me?” he asked his daughter’s serving woman.
“It would have but caused more difficulty for us, my lord. I hoped that in time you would see the state of my mistress’s wardrobe, and correct the situation,” Orva said.
“By the rood!” the earl swore softly. “I will not have this! Cicely shall have everything she needs, and more. How dare her stepmother withhold necessities from my daughter.” His arm tightened about the little girl. “You shall be denied nothing, my darling,” he promised her. Then he tipped her from his lap. “I must now go and speak with my wife. In the morning, Orva, you shall have access to the storerooms. Take all you need, but remember I shall have to return the keys to my lady wife the same day, lest I send her into a greater temper than she will already have.” Standing, he bent and kissed his daughter on her forehead, then strode from the cottage to ride home. Entering his house he asked the steward where his wife could be found.
Luciana was in her apartments with Donna Clara, who was brushing her hair. “My head aches,” she greeted him languidly, waving him to a chair.
“Give me the keys to the storerooms,” he replied, not sitting.
A wary look came into her large brown eyes. “Why do you want them?” she asked him boldly. “Do not stop brushing! It eases my pain,” she snapped at Donna Clara. “Must I live in agony always?”
“Give me the keys to the storerooms,” he repeated, not answering her. “Am I master of Leighton or not, madam?”
“Have you found a place for your daughter?” she wanted to know.
“I have,” he said, “and now I will see that Cicely is properly garbed and equipped for her new home.”
“I am the mistress of this household,” Luciana said in a hard voice. “It is my duty to see your daughter supplied with what she needs.”
“You have laid eyes on Cicely but once, and not by choice, madam,” the earl said in an equally hard voice. “You have denied her serving woman the cloth necessary to make the child gowns. Her garments are worn, shabby. Have you no shame, Luciana? Cicely is an earl’s daughter, not some stranger I have taken in.”
“She is your bastard!” Luciana cried angrily.
“Her mother died before we could wed, but our daughter was legitimated by Rome, Canterbury, and the laws of England,” the earl shouted furiously. “Why do you refuse to admit the truth, Luciana? This was all long before I even knew of your existence. You have given me three sons. My respect for you is great. What more do you want of me?”
“You loved her!” the Countess of Leighton accused.
Robert Bowen looked surprised. “Loved whom?” he asked her.
“My ladybird,” Donna Clara cautioned, “do not pursue this, I beg you.”
“Your daughter’s mother!” Luciana spat. “And everyone says the brat is her mother’s image. The whore who was your servant’s daughter!”
The Earl of Leighton slapped his wife across her angry face.
Luciana shrieked, outraged, her hand going to her burning cheek.
Donna Clara gasped in shock. Never had she seen her English master lose his control. He was always calm, always the voice of reason. The look in his eyes now, however, was one of uncontrolled fury. Her mistress stood on the brink of disaster.
The red haze faded slowly from before his eyes as the earl fought to regain some measure of control, struggling with himself not to put his hands about her slim white neck and snap it. Finally he felt calm, but he was very angry. His wife stood glaring at him, totally unaware of how close she had come to death. Donna Clara knew, and her eyes filled with relief as Robert Bowen came to himself again, and spoke.
“Aye, I loved Anne,” he told Luciana. “She was everything you are not. She was beautiful, and Cicely is her image. She was kind and generous. She was genuinely devout. We were blood kin, madam, but not so close that a marriage between us was forbidden. Old families like mine frequently parcel out the responsibilities of their estates to kin, because in most instances blood will not betray you. Your interests are their interests, madam. Whether your estate is large or small, such loyalty is important.
“I might have wed the daughter of another noble, but an honorable family like mine was left with little dower. However, I fell in love with Anne, and we planned to wed. The banns had already been posted when her father was killed in an accident. She was his only child, and his own wife, her mother, had died when Anne was ten. The shock of her father’s death caused my beloved to go into an early labor. She lived long enough to push our daughter from her body, and then with a great sigh she died.
“I was content to remain unmarried, but Cicely needed a mother to teach her the things a girl of her rank should know, and I needed a legitimate son. And then your father learned I sought a wife. As your behavior in Firenze had made you unmarriageable, he had to seek a husband for you here in England. I was poor, but I could give you a title. You could bring me a fat dower, and give me sons. It was an ideal match, Luciana. I swore to your father that I would honor you and respect you. I have done these things. I have treated you well. You, however, have not kept your part of our bargain.”
“I gave you wealth!” she cried. “I have advised you in which trading ventures to invest in, and you have become rich in the process. I have given you three sons! I am faithful to you. What more could you want?”
“I wanted a mother for my daughter,” he said.
“I told you before the wedding contracts were even signed that I would not raise that child,” Luciana said. “You agreed!”
“I believed that once you felt secure, once you had given me a son, that you would no longer feel the need to reject Cicely,” the earl replied. “What kind of woman are you that you could hate an innocent little
girl so greatly? What could she have possibly done to you before you even met her that you hate her?”
“You love her! You love her as you loved her mother! But you have never loved me, Robert, have you?” the countess said bitterly.
“How many marriages are made for love, Luciana?” he asked quietly. “Certainly not among our kind, nor even among the poor. Marriages are made to gain certain advantages. Among the peasantry they are made for children to help in the fields. And among the nobility they are made for land, for wealth, for a higher position on the social scale. You are my wife. I have a fondness for you. I am grateful to you for the sons you have given me, for the wealth you brought me, for the knowledge you have given me that has aided me in acquiring more riches. You have my respect in all but one matter, and that is your inability to accept my daughter. For you and for your peace of mind I have agreed to foster Cicely out, but I will not send her from this house, from her home, without all she needs to survive, to succeed in the world beyond Leighton Hall. But even now, gaining your own way, you cannot be generous to my daughter, which is why I will have the keys from my storerooms from you.” He held out his hand to her. “Give them to me now, madam!”
Luciana stood up. Her look was murderous, but she unfastened the chatelaine’s keys from her satin girdle and flung them at him. “Here, and be damned to you, Robert! But why the wench needs a fine wardrobe in the house of a widow, I do not know.”
He knew he was being foolish, but she had angered him so greatly he needed to strike back at her. He knew there would be more difficulties with Luciana over it, but he couldn’t help himself. “She does if the widow is the king’s beloved stepmother,” the Earl of Leighton said with a wicked smile.
“Your daughter is going to live in Queen Joan’s household? The queen is fostering her?” The Countess of Leighton was astounded. “How did you manage to arrange such a thing, Robert?” There was new respect for him in her voice, and she was already considering the possibilities for their sons.
The Border Lord and the Lady Page 4