Rosamund smiled fondly at him. “And you shall have it, dearest Tom,” she said, but her mind was already considering what wisdom she would impart to her daughter when she wrote to her. It was difficult to know whether to be soft or hard with her eldest daughter. Too much sympathy was every bit as bad as not enough. It would not be easy.
And Philippa Meredith, reading her mother’s missive some days later, was neither moved to tears nor comforted by her mother’s words. Indeed she flung the parchment aside in a fit of pique. “Bah! Friarsgate! Always Friarsgate!” she said, irritated.
“What does your mother say?” Cecily FitzHugh ventured nervously.
“She offers me ridiculous advice! Disappointment, she says, is very much a part of life, and I must learn to accept it. A nunnery is not the answer to my problems. Well, did I say it was, Cecily? I am hardly the type to enter a convent.”
“But just a few weeks ago you said you were going to take the veil,” Cecily replied. “You mentioned relations who were nuns. Of course we all thought it highly amusing. You are hardly the type to be a nun, dearest.”
“So!” Philippa snapped. “You and the others are laughing at me behind my back. And I thought you were my best friend!”
“I am your best friend,” Cecily cried, “but you have been so filled with histrionics, and we all knew you were not going to become a nun. It is funny to even consider it. Now, what else does your mother say?”
“That they will find me another husband. One who will appreciate me and help me to prudently manage Friarsgate. Oh, God! I don’t want Friarsgate, Cecily. I don’t ever again want to live in Cumbria! I want to remain here at court. It is the center of the very universe. I shall die if I am forced back north. I am not my mother!” She sighed dramatically. “Oh, Cecily! Do you remember the first Christmas we had at court as the queen’s maids of honor?”
“Of course I do,” Cecily responded. “They called it the Christmas of the Three Queens. Queen Katherine, Queen Margaret, and her sister, Mary, who had been queen of France until she was widowed. They hadn’t all been together in years, and it was so wonderful. Every day offered us a new excitement.”
“And Cardinal Wolsey had to give Queen Margaret two hundred pounds so she might purchase her New Year’s gifts. The poor lady had virtually nothing, having fled Scotland after the lords there overturned King James’s will and made the duke of Albany the little king’s guardian. She should never have remarried, and especially to the earl of Angus.”
“But she was in love with him,” Cecily said. “And he is very handsome.”
“She lusted after him,” Philippa said. “She was a queen dowager, Ceci, and she threw her power and authority away just so she might be swived by a younger man. The other earls, the other lords, did not want the Douglases running Scotland. That is why they chose a new regent for little King James.”
“But John Stewart is French-born,” Cecily said. “I don’t think he had ever set foot in Scotland before he was sent for to come and be the king’s regent. And he is the king’s heir, you know. I can understand why Queen Margaret was frightened.”
“Yet his reputation is one of great loyalty and integrity,” Philippa answered.
“Twelfth Night!” Cecily said, changing the subject. “Remember that first Twelfth Night? Was it not wonderful?” Cecily looked dreamy-eyed with her remembrance.
“How could anyone forget it?” Philippa responded. “The entertainment was titled ‘The Garden of Esperance,’ and there was an entire artificial garden set upon this enormous pageant cart. The ladies and gentlemen taking part danced within that garden before it was hauled off I remember how our little baby princess Mary clapped her hands in glee.”
“How sad there are no other princes and princesses,” Cecily murmured softly. “Despite our good queen’s faithfulness, her many pilgrimages to Our Lady of Walsingham, her charitable works, there is no other child of her body.”
“She is too old,” Philippa replied as low. “She has aged even in the three years we have been here. She becomes more religious by the day, and withdraws early now from the court revels. The king’s eye has begun to wander. Do you not see it?”
“But she has never shirked her royal duties,” Cecily noted. “And she and the king have always had much in common. They still hunt together, and he goes every day after the midday meal to visit her in her apartments.”
“But he comes always with courtiers,” Philippa said. “They are rarely alone now. How does a man make a son when he hardly ever visits his wife? The king complains much, but does little to change the situation.”
“Hush!” Cecily cautioned Philippa.
“Have you noticed how he has begun to look at Mistress Blount? It’s rather like a large tomcat considering the plump and pretty little finch before him.”
Cecily giggled. “Philippa, you are dreadful! Elizabeth Blount is a charming girl, and I have never known her to be mean like Millicent Langholme.”
“The king calls her Bessie when he thinks no one else is listening. I have heard him do it myself,” Philippa murmured. “Watch his face when she dances for him again some evening.”
“She’s named after the king’s mother,” Cecily said. “Her mother was a Peshall, and her father fought for the old king at Bosworth when he defeated King Richard III. She comes from Shropshire, and isn’t that almost as far north as your Cumbria?”
“You will notice that she doesn’t live in Shropshire,” Philippa said dryly. “Like me she is a creature of the court, and she has excellent connections too.”
“It doesn’t hurt that she is quite pretty either,” Cecily remarked. “But you are right. Her cousin, Lord Montjoy, is quite in the king’s favor. And the earl of Suffolk and Francis Bryan like her too. Have you heard her sing? She has quite a lovely voice.”
“I should like to be like her,” Philippa replied wistfully. “She is so popular, and everyone notices her.”
“Especially the king, as you have noted,” Cecily said. “What if he should ... well, you know. Wouldn’t she be ruined? I mean, who would wed a girl who had ... well, you know, Philippa.”
“A lady does not refuse a king,” Philippa said. “And kings take care of their mistresses. At least King James did. Do you think our good King Henry would do any less for his mistress? It would be unchivalrous, and our king is the most honorable in all of Christendom, Ceci. Remember last summer when the sweating sickness struck England, and the king moved the entire court from London to Richmond, and then Greenwich until it had subsided. How he feared for his people. He is a great king.” Then she grew glum once again. “Are people talking about me, Ceci? Because of your brother?” She sighed deeply. “What am I to do? I am not the most eligible marriage prospect with my northern estates. Let us be frank. Your brother was a big catch for me, and my estates would have given him his own lands.”
“All the girls feel awful for you,” Cecily said. “Except, of course, Millicent Langholme. Yours was really an excellent match, but now she will do nothing but brag on Sir Walter Lumley and his estates in Kent. He is negotiating with her father, you know, and she expects to be married by year’s end.”
“You will be married by then too,” Philippa said. “And then I shall have no one here to confide in, Ceci. We have been friends, it seems, all our lives, even if we really only met when we were ten. But then the best part of my life, I think now, has been here at court. I never want to leave it.”
“I am not being married until late summer,” Cecily said, “and Tony and I will be back at court in time for the Christmas revels. And you will probably have Maggie Radcliffe, Jane Hawkins, and Annie Chambers to keep you company while I am gone. And Millicent will be in Kent as lady of Sir Walter’s estates.”
Suddenly Philippa’s lips turned up in a wicked smile. “Millicent can have her Sir Walter, but only after I have finished with him,” she said. “Now that your brother has jilted me, I am as free as a bird.”
Cecily’s blue-gray eyes grew round. “Philippa! What are you planning to do? Remember, you must consider your reputation if another suitable husband is to be found for you. You are not some earl’s daughter. You are an heiress from Cumbria. Nothing else. You must not behave in a rash and foolish manner.”
“Oh, Ceci, do not fret yourself. I merely mean to have a little bit of fun. I have surely been the most chaste of the queen’s maids until now because of my loyalty to Giles. I need consider your brother no longer. The king is being attracted to Mistress Blount. This means her other admirers will retreat back into the shadows. I mean to step into the empty space created by her loss. Why shouldn’t I? I am prettier. I have inherited my Welsh father’s singing voice, which I haven’t used at all except at the mass when I must sing discreetly. And while I will admit that Elizabeth Blount is the best dancer next to the king and his sister here at court, I dance well enough to be considered graceful. My mother will indeed find me another husband sooner than later. But given where she lives he will be a country gentleman, and it is unlikely I shall ever see the court again.” Philippa sighed sadly. “So before I am shackled. and bound to wifedom I shall amuse myself, Ceci.”
“But flirting with Sir Walter Lumley?” Cecily said tartly.
“Why not?” Philippa chuckled. “I do it not just for me, but for all of those who have had to suffer Millicent Langholme’s poisonous tongue and snide remarks over the last three years. I shall be hailed as a heroine by all the other maids of honor.”
“But what if Sir Walter should decide he wants you for his wife, and not Millicent?” Cecily asked. “Surely you don’t really want him?”
“Never!” Philippa declared. “But do not distress yourself, Ceci. I shall not be the kind of girl a man like Sir Walter would marry even at his most lustful. Like Millicent, he is a fellow who takes very seriously how he is perceived by the court. I shall toy with him just enough to anger and frustrate Millicent. Perhaps I shall even let him kiss me, making certain she knows about it, of course. Then I shall abruptly move on to another gentleman, making Sir Walter look like a fool, and glad for a girl like Millicent Langholme. Actually the wench will owe me a great debt of gratitude.”
“I doubt she will see it that way,” Cecily laughed.
“Perhaps not,” Philippa agreed with an arch half-smile.
“I never suspected that you could be so wicked,” Cecily remarked.
“Neither did I,” Philippa agreed with a grin. “I rather like it.”
“You must be careful lest the queen catch you at your mischief,” Cecily said, looking about to see if anyone was near enough to hear them, but they were at the far end of the queen’s antechamber.
“She would not expect it of me. Perhaps I shall begin my flirtation this evening. The king has arranged for us to picnic by the riverside in the long twilight. There will be paper lanterns, and before it grows too dark we shall shoot arrows at some butts being set up. Sir Walter is noted for his marksmanship. I think I shall be very bad at archery, Ceci. And I shall stand near him. Being chivalrous, he will certainly want to help me.”
“But you are an excellent archer!” Cecily protested.
“Well, it is unlikely he knows that,” Philippa said. “And if he does I will pretend that it is dust in my eye, spoiling my aim.”
“If Millicent sees it she will be furious,” Cecily remarked.
“Yes,” Philippa giggled, “but she can do naught about it for the match has not been completely set yet. Nothing is signed. Believe me, if it were we should not hear the end of it. She will not be able to scold her intended husband quite yet. Poor fellow. Were he not so pompous I should almost feel sorry for him.”
“Well, he is pompous,” Cecily said. “I wonder if you shall be able to lure him at all. You are not important at all, Philippa.”
“Ah, but I was good enough for the earl of Renfrew’s son before he decided to take holy orders,” Philippa answered. “He will be curious enough to be tempted.”
Cecily shook her head. “I think Giles is well rid of you,” she teased her friend.
Philippa swatted at her with a chuckle. “Perhaps, yet he still hurt me by being so dishonest, and allowing me to believe we would wed when I turned fifteen. I think he knew at least a year ago what he really wanted. Would that he had been brave and honest enough at the time to say so. He has really placed me in a most difficult position.”
“It will be alright,” Cecily soothed Philippa. “It was not meant to be.” Then changing the subject she said, “There are some gypsies camped off the London road. Let us go tomorrow, and have our fortunes told. I know Jane and Maggie will come too.”
“What fun!” Philippa exclaimed. “Yes, let us go,” she agreed.
In late afternoon the servants began setting up the tables by the riverside. Though they would be dining alfresco, white linen was spread on each board. Poles were driven into the ground for the lanterns. A pit had been dug earlier, and even now the venison was being turned slowly on its spit. The archery butts were set up. There were small punts drawn up on the shore for those courtiers who would enjoy a small excursion on the water in the early evening. A small platform was laid on the lawn, and chairs brought. Here the king’s musicians would seat themselves so that the court might dance country dances on the grass in the long twilight. It was the next to last day of May, and they would soon be removing to Richmond for a month until it was time for the summer progress to begin. The court would not be back in London until late autumn, for the air in the city was considered noxious and conducive to disease.
In the Maidens’ Chamber Philippa and her companions refreshed themselves, and dressed for the afternoon and evening’s entertainment. Despite her modest background Philippa Meredith always had the most elegant gowns, it was acknowledged among the queen’s maids. They were never the most lavish, but they were always the pinnacle of fashion and her good taste was greatly admired, and in some cases envied.
“I don’t know how she does it,” Millicent Langholme grumbled as she watched Philippa and her tiring woman. “She cannot be rich. Her mother is a sheep farmer, I am told. I don’t know why she is here at all, for her birth is so low.”