Lord Cambridge and Will were among the party returning to Otterly.
And Baen had decided to escort his wife that far. “ ’Tis past time I met your sister and her husband again,” he said. “We are, after all, kin.”
Elizabeth had not discouraged his company. “Friarsgate will survive a day or two without us, sir,” she had said.
“If you would prefer I shall remain behind,” he said with utmost seriousness.
“Nay!” And then, seeing that he was teasing her, she swatted out at him. “Scots villain,” she muttered.
“God’s blessed bones!” Banon Meredith Neville gasped to her husband, Robert, as her youngest sister and her husband entered their hall late that afternoon. “I am still amazed by my sister’s giant of a husband. And a handsome giant at that.” She embraced her sibling, whispering to Elizabeth as she did so, “Is he that big all over?”
“Aye,” Elizabeth murmured low. “Jealous?”
Banon giggled. “Mayhap a little,” she admitted. Then she looked up at Baen. “Welcome to Otterly, brother. I am glad that we are met again. Come, Rob, and greet Elizabeth’s husband.”
“You are every bit as lovely, if not more so, than when I last saw you, mistress Banon,” Baen told her, and he kissed both of her cheeks. Then he turned to shake his brother-in-law’s hand.
Banon flushed with pleasure at the compliment. He might be a Scot, and a Highlander at that, but his manners were perfect. His mother had taught him well, she thought. “Can you and Will join us for supper, Uncle?” she asked Lord Cambridge.
“Indeed we can,” he replied. “Your sister and her escort must leave at first light, dear girl, and so I shall make my farewells tonight. How odd. I had thought to be envious of your visit to court, Elizabeth, but I find now that as the moment approaches I am most relieved not to be going.”
“Uncle, I cannot believe that,” Banon teased him, and they all laughed.
When the meal had been finished Lord Cambridge took Elizabeth aside to wish her Godspeed. “Be kind to Philippa,” he said quietly. “Use your own goodwill to help her. You know her devotion to the princess of Aragon, and if Anne Boleyn died tomorrow the king would not have Katherine back. It is a son he wants, and she could not, cannot, supply that. And store up what goodwill you can for yourself and your family, dear girl. Your absence will not be forever.”
“I still do not understand why she wants to see me,” Elizabeth said.
“You are, dear girl, most likely the only true friend Anne Boleyn has ever had. How sad that is, but it is, I suspect, the truth. She is not an easy creature. Treat her with kindness, but come home to us as soon as you can.” Thomas Bolton embraced his youngest niece, kissing both her cheeks, hugging her to his heart. “God and his blessed Mother go with you, dear girl.”
Once again Elizabeth felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyelids. “Thank you, Uncle,” she managed to say, and she kissed him back. Then Will came and wished her a safe journey. Finally he and Lord Cambridge departed the hall.
The two young couples sat for a time before the fire in the hall, talking. Banon and Robert Neville had decided they liked Baen MacColl Hay. He was a country man, and there was no pretension about him. They were country folk too. Philippa and her husband intimidated them. Baen was the perfect mate for the lady of Friarsgate.
Elizabeth could not argue their conclusion. Together in the guest chamber given them she sat quietly on the settle by the fire as her husband stood behind her brushing her long blond hair. It was his habit each night to do so, and she loved the quiet time they shared together. “I shall miss this,” she told him softly.
“I shall miss it,” he agreed, pushing aside the thick tresses and kissing the nape of her neck. “Do not linger longer than you must, sweetheart. I am lost without you, I fear, and not ashamed to admit my weakness to you.” He lay the brush down and, coming around to face her, drew her up into his arms. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he told her passionately. “I cannot believe some courtier did not snatch you up when you last danced attendance on the king.”
“My blood is not blue enough. My estates are in the far north. I had no great name or useful connections,” she explained to him. “That is their way, and I was not unhappy, Baen.” She reached up to caress his face. “I will come back to you,” she told him. “The court holds no fascination for me.”
“Yet you go,” he responded.
“Aye. You know why. I am commanded by the queen, and for no other reason. Do you not understand that Anne commanded because she knew that if she had simply asked I would have cried off, Baen? ‘I will not beg,’ she wrote. Instead she commanded.”
He sighed. But then she reached up and drew his head down to hers. They began to kiss slowly, deeply at first, and then as the heat of their passion began to increase in intensity, more fervidly. Two tongues, wet and hot, danced together with each other. He held her face between his hands, covering it with kisses. She returned those kisses eagerly. Her chemise and his long-tailed shirt fell to the floor. He was hard with his need for her, and she hot with her need for him. He bent her over the settle, her palms flat against its seat. His hands gripped her hips as he entered her in a single smooth motion, driving himself deep into the hot maw of her sex.
Elizabeth arched her back. His eagerness had but matched her own. She closed her eyes, relishing the ardent motion of his lust for her. Small mewling sounds escaped her as the pleasure he was offering them began to spread at a leisurely pace throughout her body. “Don’t stop!” She gasped. Dear God! How could she do without his passion in the next few months? She wouldn’t think about it. She would simply enjoy the here and now with him. Her thoughts melted away. Only the sweet sensations of their pleasure remained. And then he cried out sharply, and she felt his juices flooding her.
For several long moments his fingers continued to grip her tender flesh. She was going to be bruised there, Elizabeth knew, but she didn’t care. Finally he straightened himself up, which allowed her to stand as well. He said not a single word to her, but led her towards the bed that they would share tonight. Falling into it together they began to kiss and caress once again. The night was yet young.
Chapter 17
Elizabeth Hay reached Bolton House in London to find her eldest sister, Philippa, there. Both were surprised to see each other. “What are you doing here?” Philippa wanted to know. She looked tired.
“The queen commanded me to court,” Elizabeth answered her sibling.
“The queen is not at court,” Philippa said, and then the realization of her sister’s words hit her. “Oh.” She made a face. “That woman who attempts to usurp the queen’s place called you. I cursed her recently in Queen Katherine’s presence, for it is forbidden to say a bad word about the king around her. Do you know what that sainted woman said to me, sister? ‘Do not curse her, Philippa. Feel sorry for her. Feel sorry for that wretched wanton creature who has taken another woman’s husband, and now proudly displays her belly to all.’ I hate her! I shall never feel pity for her! I hope she miscarries!”
“Philippa! Philippa!” Elizabeth put comforting arms about her eldest sister, who now began to sob. “The king needs a son, and your patron cannot bear him that son. He is not the first king to put aside an infertile queen for a more fecund and younger queen. Your loyalty to Queen Katherine is admirable, but do not let it blind you to the reality of what has happened. Continue to love and serve your mistress, but do not hold Anne responsible for Katherine’s inadequacies,” Elizabeth advised.
Philippa shrugged off her youngest sister’s arms and comfort. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her tears away. “Anne Boleyn will never be my queen, Bessie. Never!”
“But she is Henry Tudor’s queen, sister, and please, please do not call me Bessie,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“How long are you going to be here?” Philippa asked. “The court is at Greenwich, as you know.”
“I wanted to rest a day
before I must fling myself into that maelstrom you so enjoy,” Elizabeth said with a small smile. “The queen sent me an escort. I have ordered them on to Greenwich to tell her I will be with her in two days. I will go downriver by barge, and have already sent my baggage and my horse with my royal guards. Now tell me what you know.” She drew Philippa into a window seat overlooking the river.
“Very little,” Philippa said. “There were rumors all winter. Then at Easter the marriage was revealed. I am not certain when it was celebrated. After Christmas, I have heard. You will know more when you reach Greenwich. They waited for Cranmer to be approved archbishop of Canterbury by the pope. Once that was done Cranmer declared the king’s marriage to Queen Katherine null and void, and his marriage to Lady Anne a true one. Now she parades her belly, the little whore!” Philippa’s lips were set in a bitter line, and her eyes were hard.
“How are my nephews?” Elizabeth asked quietly. There could be no reasoning with Philippa over this situation, and she felt sorry for her eldest sibling. Yet she admired her too. Philippa had never known when to give up.
“Henry is still with the king, but he is getting too big to be a page. Owein remains in the Duke of Norfolk’s household. He tells me Norfolk is surprised that the king finally married his niece. He does not entirely approve, but he will use the Lady Anne to his own advantage, for that is the way he is. They are an ambitious family, the Howards. Hugh lost the place he was to have in the princess Mary’s household. The king has pared her staff to the bone, as he has my mistress’s. But Crispin cajoled the king to take Hugh into his service, as Henry will soon have to leave it. Actually ’tis a better position for my son. I am grateful he was given it.”
“And your daughter?” Elizabeth asked. As long as they spoke on the family Philippa could not become so agitated.
“She turned three in December.” Philippa’s face was now relaxed and glowing. “No mother could have a sweeter daughter, Bess . . . Elizabeth. And Mary Rose is intelligent too. Why, she can already recite her ABCs and count to twenty. I have high hopes for her, sister. Crispin adores her, and she quite has him wrapped about her little finger. I should be very jealous of her but that my husband loves me.”
“I am happy for you, sister. You seem to have everything you always wanted.” Elizabeth’s gaze went to the river. “I do not really like the city, but looking downriver I can see the beauty in it. And is it my imagination or is the town creeping closer to Bolton House, Philippa?”
“London grows,” Philippa admitted. “Now tell me of your family.”
“Young Tom is almost two, and Baen is the perfect husband for me,” Elizabeth said with little sentimentality, but she smiled as she spoke.
“A Scot,” Philippa murmured. “How like our mother you are. But I am glad you are content. Have you seen Banon?”
“Briefly on my way south. She thrives as always. Her bairns are as noisy as ever, and her Neville as devoted to her as he ever was, if not more.” Elizabeth chuckled.
“And you are happy with Friarsgate?”
“Oh, yes!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I hope you do not regret your decision.”
“Never! Brierewode is my home. My life should be perfect if it were not for poor Queen Katherine’s lot. She is so noble, and so brave. And none can say a word against the king in her hearing. She is still devoted to him despite his unkindness and that of his wretched whore.”
“Anne is not an unkind person, Philippa,” Elizabeth defended her friend.
“She is an arrogant and vindictive bitch!” Philippa cried. “She has even threatened to make the princess her servant!”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth murmured. “And do you really think the king, who adores his child, would tolerate a woman who threatened such a thing? You are listening to unfounded gossip, sister. Your devotion to Queen Katherine has blinded you. You must learn to control your feelings lest you endanger your sons’ careers.”
“Why should I take advice from you?” Philippa demanded to know. “You are a country woman, and you have no idea what life in the court is like.”
“Because I am your little sister, and despite the fact you have turned into a pompous prig, I love you. And Uncle Thomas said I must help you, for he knew you would feel this way, Philippa. Be reasonable, and be sensible. You can do nothing to change what has happened to Queen Katherine. As I have previously said to you, the problem is the king’s lack of a male heir. If it had not been Anne it would have been someone else. You must think of your sons. Disapprove if you will. You are surely not the only one who does. But keep your anger to yourself. It does you no good, and it does poor Queen Katherine no good. While Anne is not cruel, she will remember a slight done her, and eventually find a way to repay the person in kind,” Elizabeth warned her companion. “Your irrational behavior could reflect upon us all, and we have held royal favor now for many years. That favor comes as much from the king as from Queen Katherine. If you cause us to lose it, Mama will certainly not think kindly of you.” Elizabeth reached out and took her sister’s hand in hers. “Remember that the family is everything. Nothing is more important.”
Philippa sighed. “I know you are right,” she said, “yet I cannot help but be angry at everything that has happened.”
“You are a consummate courtier, sister. Mask your anger. Do not tell me you haven’t done it before, for I am certain you have,” Elizabeth said. She arose. “I have been traveling for what seems forever. I want a hot bath, a good supper, and a bed that is not home to a family of voracious fleas. Will you be here when I wake up tomorrow?”
Philippa nodded. “I’ll go down to Greenwich with you,” she said. “Crispin is already there. We are asked to the coronation. While some, like the Duke of Norfolk’s wife, will not come, my husband says we must.”
“The Duchess of Norfolk is Anne’s aunt,” Elizabeth said, surprised.
“By marriage, not blood,” Philippa answered her. “And like me she is devoted to Queen Katherine. Ohh, that I dared be as brave as she, and refuse to go!”
“You have not the name,” Elizabeth answered dryly. “Nor are you family. Anne does not like either her uncle or her aunt. She will not be sorry they are not there. And she will sooner than later discover a way to repay the duchess for her contempt.” Elizabeth kissed her sister’s cheek and departed the hall where they had been sitting. Reaching her old bedchamber she found Nancy awaiting her.
“ ’Tis good to be back in a respectable house,” Nancy said. “They’re filling your tub now, and the water is so hot it would peel the skin off a peach.”
“When I’m through you bathe,” Elizabeth said. “It may have rained most of our way to London, and while that kept the dust down, the road was still dirty.” Waiting for the serving men to leave, she then loosened the tabs holding her skirt up, and unlaced the petticoats beneath. They fell to the floor, and Elizabeth stepped from them. Unfastening her bodice, she handed it to Nancy, who had gathered up the dusty skirts. Next came her stockings and chemise. Climbing into the tall oak tub, Elizabeth sighed gratefully. “Have I anything to wear to court, or must you refurbish my traveling garments, Nancy?”
“It will have to be these,” Nancy said. “Your trunks are by now at Bolton House in Greenwich, mistress. We have a day, and I’ll have your skirt and bodice respectable by then. I’m going to take them off right now and into the gardens to shake. Then I’ll hang them out by the kitchen to air. You just enjoy your soak.” She hurried out.
Well, Elizabeth thought, here I am again in the one place I vowed never to be. London. And the court lies ahead of me. The journey was tedious. I hated every step I took away from Baen, young Tom, and Friarsgate. I hope the queen will not keep me away from them for too long. What can Anne Boleyn want of me? I have nothing to offer her. She has attained her goal. She is the king’s wife, and shortly to be crowned queen. She is carrying the king’s child. What can she want?
Elizabeth had asked herself this question over and over again as she had traveled south fro
m Friarsgate. But she had not come up with an answer. She prayed she would not get to Greenwich to learn that Anne had merely called her on a whim. Yet when Elizabeth had requested an escort from Anne, one had been forthcoming. She would know soon enough. Emptying her mind of its confusion, Elizabeth washed her long blond hair, pinned it atop her head, and washed herself before sitting back in the water for a few minutes to relax. She needed food, and she need a good night’s rest. She did not need to be asking herself questions that only Anne Boleyn could answer.
The next day she and Philippa spent together. Sitting in the gardens of Bolton House they watched the river traffic and talked of their childhoods, of their mother, and of Friarsgate. Philippa was surprised—and yet she asked herself why she would be—at her youngest sister’s maturity and great sense of responsibility. She realized how much like Rosamund the youngest of her daughters was. Elizabeth was fascinated by her sophisticated elder, who had so skillfully negotiated her way amid the high and mighty all these years. It took a rare talent to survive within the royal world. The sisters realized that they were gaining a deeper understanding of and respect for each other. The two young women felt closer to each other than they had ever felt in their lives.
The next morning, they prepared to depart for Greenwich. The house barge bobbed at the quay at the foot of the gardens. The bargemen wore the Earl of Witton’s livery. Philippa was dressed in a silk gown so deep a green it seemed almost black. The square neckline was embroidered with pearls, and the fitted sleeves were trimmed with creamy lace. About her waist was an embroidered girdle of gold and tiny seed pearls. The long rope of large pearls about her neck was pale gold. Upon her auburn head the Countess of Witton had set a gable hood with a veil that covered her hair. It was very much in the style of Katherine of Aragon.
“An English hood would be more flattering,” Elizabeth said quietly.
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