Rosamund (33 page)

“I should not have it any other way,” he told her, pleased at her compliments.

They sat for a time talking before the fire, and then Annie came, wide-eyed, to escort her mistress to her room.

“You have eaten, Annie?” Lord Cambridge asked the girl.

“Aye, sir, and ’twas delicious!”

“Then I will bid you both good night, but perhaps I will stop to see you settled later,” he told them. “I will tell you before I go to court tomorrow, Rosamund.” He waved a languorous hand at them, and directed his attention to his goblet and the fire.

“You should see the apartment, m’lady! ’Tis not just a room, but two for you, and another small one for me! And a separate place for your clothing and two fireplaces! And I’ve called for a bath for you. They have set this great tub before the dayroom fire, and are filling it with hot water now. This is a palace, m’lady!” Annie, who had never been off Friarsgate land in her entire seventeen years was in awe of just about everything she had seen since leaving her home. She hurried up the wide staircase that led from the entry hall to the upstairs of the house where the bedchambers were located.

Rosamund’s apartment was spacious, with windows that looked out over Lord Cambridge’s gardens and lawns that swept down to the river. The walls were paneled. The wood floors covered in more Turkey carpets. The drapes at the windows and about her bed were rose-colored velvet with gold rope pullbacks. The candlesticks were silver. Bowls of flowers were upon the sideboard in the dayroom and on a table in the bedchamber. Where had they found flowers in December? Fires burned in both fireplaces. As they entered, the last of the footmen departed carrying their empty buckets. Steam arose from the large oak tub that had been set up for Rosamund.

Annie hurried to add her mistress’ scent to the water while Rosamund began to remove her boots and stockings. After the scent had been added to the water the young maidservant helped her mistress to undress and then assisted her into the tub. Rosamund sank down into the hot water with a sigh of deep pleasure.

“I am going to wash my hair,” she said to Annie. “I have the dirt and dust of the roads between here and Friarsgate clogging my scalp. I would it be gone.”

“Mistress Greenleaf, she is his lordship’s housekeeper, has assigned one of her maids to aid me. All I have to do is pull at the bell cord, and she’ll be here. Her name is Doll,” Annie informed her mistress. “I’ve hung out your gowns, and Mistress Greenleaf says that Doll will help me prepare them, especially the one you’ll first wear to court.”

“I’ll want my cousin’s advice on that,” Rosamund said.

“He’s an odd gentleman, m’lady, but my, don’t he have a good heart,”
Annie noted. “I know that life would have been far more uncertain for us if it hadn’t been him that called to fetch us here. Let me help you with your hair.”

An odd gentleman.
Rosamund smiled to herself as Annie scrubbed her hair. She wasn’t quite certain what to make of Thomas Bolton, but she knew that in their short acquaintance she had come to depend upon him, and she was deeply fond of him. For all of his flamboyant manners and his peacockish dress and his funny language, he was a kind man,
and
he had become a good friend. He was her blood. A Bolton. For the first time she was not afraid to be coming to court again because she had her cousin to ease her way and to be her bulwark.

Bathed, clothed in a clean smock, her hair dried by the fire, Rosamund sat comfortably in her bed. Doll had come and taken away the dirty laundry, bobbing a shy curtsy at Rosamund and then going off with Annie, the two girls chattering. She felt warm and relaxed, and when there was a knock upon her door, she called, “Come in.”

“I’ve brought you a warm mulled wine,” Lord Cambridge said. “You have found everything to your satisfaction, cousin?”

“Your hospitality is wonderful, Tom. I thank you.” She took the goblet from him and sipped it. “Mmmm, ’tis good.”

“It will help you sleep. Rosamund, I would speak to you if you are not too tired to listen,” he said seriously.

“Why, Tom, what is it?” she replied.

“I would have no secrets between us, cousin. You may hear things about me at court that distress you. Perhaps you will not even understand them. Some of the courtiers enjoy being cruel, as they have little else but gossip in their lives. Dear country cousin, I am, I know, unlike any man you have ever encountered. Am I correct in that assumption, Rosamund?”

“Aye,” she agreed, wondering what he was all about.

“I am a man who likes women, Rosamund, but I do not love them. Do you understand?” His warm amber eyes were cautious.

“Nay, Tom, I do not,” she had to admit.

“I do not take women as lovers, Rosamund. On occasion, but not often,
I will take another man or a boy for a lover. My behavior is condemned by the church. There are some at court who know of my predilections. If among them I have enemies, and everyone certainly has enemies, these people may seek to hurt you by revealing my habits because they believe you do not know them. I tell you this not to shock you, but so you will not be taken unawares.”

“Oh, cousin,” Rosamund replied candidly, “I do not really understand, yet I do. Still, you are my blood. You have been good to me. I love you as I love my uncles Edmund and Richard. I do not care what anyone will say about you. I know who you are, and we are not simply relations. We are friends, Tom. That is all I need, or want, to know. I will hear nothing wicked said against you.”

“I see I shall have to watch over you very carefully, Rosamund,” he answered her almost sadly. “Your heart is much too good. Now, dear girl, we must decide what you will wear to court on your first visit. Annie!” he called out, and Rosamund’s young tiring woman hurried into the chamber. “Annie, bring me both of your mistress’ black gowns. I must decide in which she will first dazzle the court on her arrival.”

Annie brought the two black gowns from the wardrobe.

Lord Cambridge made an immediate decision. “The black with the gold,” he said. “The brocade is of an excellent quality, and the embroidery quite fine. Annie, have Doll show you how to fix your lady’s hair while she is at court. She cannot wear that charming plait. And, cousin, I shall arrange for you to have an English hood with your veils. It is particularly suited to one with such a charming and young face. The more elegant French hood and the gable hood are too old for you. No, the English hood for the first visit, and then perhaps later your cap back to reveal your hair worn with a veil. Now, jewelry. The pearls with the cross are perfect, but you will need something else.” Reaching into his gown he brought forth an object and pressed it into her hand.

Rosamund looked down at a lovely broach. It was a large round creamy pearl set in gold and surrounded by tiny diamonds. “Oh, Tom!” she said, “I will be honored to wear it. You are so kind to lend it to me. Was it your mother’s?”

“Nay, I purchased it for a friend, who, as it turned out, was not a friend. It is yours to keep, dear girl.” He bent over and kissed her upon the forehead. “Good night, my dear cousin. I will see you before I go to court. Sleep well.” He arose from the bed where he had been seated. “Annie, you and Doll will prepare the black brocade with the gold embroidery for the Lady Rosamund. And see that one of her lawn veils is ready.” He exited the bedchamber, Annie in his wake, asking further questions about her mistress’ garb for court.

Rosamund lay back now in her bed, the pearl broach in her hand. She had never heard of men who preferred men as lovers. She didn’t really understand it at all, but her cousin Tom was a good man. It was all she needed to know about him. Her eyes grew heavy, and the broach fell from her hand to the coverlet where Annie found it shortly afterward. The young servant took the jewel and placed it in the velvet bag with the rest of her mistress’ few pieces of jewelry.

The sun was long up when Rosamund awoke. “Gracious! How long have I been sleeping?” she asked Annie.

“You’ve been abed for fourteen hours,” Annie answered.

“Lord Cambridge?”

“Not yet gone. These city folk keeps odd hours, m’lady,” Annie observed. “Now his lordship says you are to stay in bed today. I will go and fetch you a bit of something to eat.” She curtsied and hurried from the chamber.

Rosamund breakfasted upon lamb chops, bread, butter, cheese, and strawberry conserve. The tangy ale was of an excellent quality. She had just finished when her cousin arrived to bid her good morning. He was elegantly garbed in a calf-length velvet coat that was lined and trimmed in a rich dark fur. It was a deep claret in color. About his neck was a beautiful gold chain of small square links decorated in black enamel. She could see his gold-and-claret striped silk hose beneath his gown, and his heeled shoes were of black leather.

“ ’Tis early, my darling, I know,” he said, “but the best time to catch the queen’s eye is after the mass. I shall be there just in time,” he told her. “Then I must arrange with one of her secretaries to give me an audience so I may tell her that you are here.” He sighed.

“Can you not just say that I am here when you catch her eye?” Rosamund asked him. “It seems like a lot of bother just to say the lady of Friarsgate has arrived, your highness.”

“It is,” he said, chuckling, “but we must follow protocol. The queen is very particular about protocol. And that, dear cousin, is why you will remain snug in your bed, resting from your journey. I should return sometime before midnight, if I am fortunate, with news. If not, I shall see you tomorrow. I have instructed your Annie and young Doll exactly as to your gown. You are in good hands. Farewell, dear girl!” He blew her a kiss, and then turned and hurried from the bedchamber.

Annie came to remove her tray, and Rosamund found to her surprise that she was still quite tired. She slept until early afternoon when Annie woke her to say her meal was ready in the dayroom. She climbed from her bed and padded on bare feet into the next room where a little table had been set before the fire. Here her main meal of the day was laid out. There was cod in a dilled cream sauce and a dish of raw oysters, a capon stuffed with bread, celery, and apples and flavored with sage, a thick slice of ham, a pastry of minced rabbit, a bowl of tiny beets in butter, bread, and cheese. The sweet was a large baked apple dusted with sugar and cinnamon, sitting in a bowl of heavy cream.

“I am going to become quite plump if all I do is eat this heavenly food and sleep,” Rosamund told Annie. “I must say, however, that this is a far more pleasant place for me than the last time I visited court.”

“Maybel said there weren’t no privacy,” Annie volunteered.

“Nay, there isn’t, except for the rich and the powerful,” Rosamund told her. “You will come with me when I go, of course.”

“Doll is jealous,” Annie said, giggling.

“Perhaps we will take her with us after we have been received,” Rosamund said, “but she will find that a familiarity with the court is likely to engender an aversion to it. Her own master is not like most. His heart is a generous one.” Rosamund, having eaten her fill, finally stood up from the table. “I must dress,” she told Annie, “but we will not use one of my fine court gowns since I am not going out other than to perhaps walk about my cousin’s riverside garden. It is walled where
his property touches his neighbor’s, so it is unlikely that I shall be seen by any.”

When she was dressed and her hair neatly plaited, Annie showed Rosamund downstairs to the door leading to Lord Cambridge’s garden. She instructed her servant to remain behind so she might have a bit of privacy. In a few days’ time there would be no privacy for either of them. The court was just too busy a place, and the well-meaning queen would keep Rosamund by her side, she knew. The day was neither chill nor warm. There was no wind. The sky was a pale blue, a smudge of thin white clouds showing, indicating a change in the weather to come. The sun was watery, but shone as brightly as it could under the circumstances. It would soon set, for it was December, and the days were very short now.

Thomas Bolton’s garden was an orderly one, but she suspected that in the warm months it was a beautiful one. The beds were neat, the small flowering trees and bushes as well as the roses were pruned perfectly, awaiting the winter. There was a small green maze. Rosamund entered it and easily found her way through it. There was some rather interesting marble statuary, mostly of young men, which left nothing to the imagination. Rosamund had never seen such statues before. She found them rather beautiful, especially one of a tall youth with a hound lying at his feet. The boy was covered in graceful draperies and had exquisite ringlets, his head topped with a crown of leaves.

Rosamund walked the smoothly raked gravel paths, finally finding her way down to the riverside. The barge she had seen moored there the previous day was now gone from its dock. She stood on the little stone quay, wrapped in her blue cloak, and looked out at the river. It was beautiful to her eyes, and for a time she could not bring herself to leave its side. She was glad that her cousin did not live in the midst of the city of London. Having Bolton House to retreat to when the court became overwhelming was going to be a blessing.

She wished again as she had wished before that she wasn’t here at all. The queen meant well, she understood, but Rosamund’s previous experience at court had taught her that queens do not have time for real friendship. So what was she to do? She knew no one. Had no friends. Meg was long gone,
and Queen of Scotland. The Venerable Margaret was dead and buried. What in the name of heaven was Rosamund Bolton doing here when her daughters, when Friarsgate, needed her? Rosamund felt a tear begin to slip down her cheek. She swallowed hard. She must not cry, but she couldn’t help it. Leaving the dock she sat down upon a stone bench, watched the river more, and wept. She missed Friarsgate. She missed her lasses. She missed Owein! How could he have died in such a needless accident, dammit?