Philippa Read online

  “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.”

  “You are jealous, Millicent,” Anne Chambers said. “Philippa’s father was Sir Owein Meredith, a simple knight ’tis true, but one who stood in great favor with the king, and the king’s father, for his deep and abiding loyalty to the house of Tudor. He was a Welshman, and served the Tudors since his childhood.”

  “But her mother is a peasant!” Millicent persisted.

  Anne laughed. “Her mother was the heiress to a great estate. She is hardly a peasant. And the gossip goes that she did the queen a great kindness at her own expense many years ago. The lady of Friarsgate spent part of her youth here at court in the company of two queens, both of whom call her friend, Millicent. You would be wise to consider these facts. Philippa Meredith is most popular among our companions. I know of no one who dislikes her, or says ill of her but you. Beware lest you be sent home in disgrace. The queen does not like those who are mean of spirit.”

  “I shall be leaving soon anyway,” Millicent huffed.

  “Is your marriage
agreement then set?” Anne inquired.

  “Well, almost,” Millicent replied. “There are a few trifling matters that my father insists be settled before he will sign the betrothal contracts.” She brushed her white-blond hair slowly. “He does not say what these matters are.”

  “I have heard it said,” Jane Hawkins chimed in, “that Sir Walter wants more gold in your dower than your father has offered, and your father has had to go to the goldsmiths to borrow that gold. He is obviously anxious enough to be rid of you to put himself into debt, Millicent.”

  “Oh, is that it?” Anne Chambers said innocently. “I had heard something about several bastards Sir Walter fathered, and one of them on the daughter of a London merchant who will have remuneration for his daughter’s lost virtue, support for his grandchild, and Sir Walter’s name for the lad.”

  “That is an evil untruth!” Millicent cried. “Sir Walter is the most honorable and virtuous of men. He would never even look upon another girl now that he is to be betrothed to me. As for any women he may have approached in his youth, they are guilty and culpable whores who are no better than they ought to be. Do not dare to repeat such slander, or I shall complain to our mistress, the queen.”

  Anne and Jane moved off giggling. They were more than aware of Philippa’s plan for Sir Walter, a pompous gentleman known for a lustful nature that he attempted to conceal. They had deliberately baited Millicent Langholme, knowing that she would be closely watching Sir Walter, and that she would be able to do nothing but fume when he succumbed to Philippa’s blandishments, which they were certain he would. None of Philippa’s friends had ever considered that she might do something like this, but she was changing before their very eyes. It was, of course, the result of her hurt feelings over Giles FitzHugh. But Millicent deserved what she was about to get.

  Philippa had dressed carefully this afternoon. She was more fortunate than most of the maids of honor in that she had her uncle Thomas’s London house in which she might store a larger than usual wardrobe for herself, as the queen’s maids had but minimal space for their possessions, which had to be packed up at a moment’s notice and moved to the next royal dwelling in which Katherine would take up residence. Philippa was generous enough to share this luxury with her friends, Cecily, Maggie Radcliffe, Jane Hawkins, and Anne Chambers. Her own tiring woman, Lucy, would be sent to fetch whatever was needed when it was needed.

  Philippa had chosen to wear a pale peach-colored silk brocade gown. It had a low square neckline edged with a band of gold embroidery, and a bell-shaped skirt. The upper sleeves of the gown were fitted; the lower sleeve was a wide, deep cuff of peach satin, lined in the peach-colored silk brocade, and beneath which could be seen a full false undersleeve of the sheerest natural-colored silk with a ruffled cuff at the wrist. From Philippa’s waist a little silk brocade purse hung on a long gold cord. On her head Philippa wore a little French hood, of the style made popular by Mary Tudor, edged in pearls, with a small sheer veil that hung down her back. Her long auburn hair was visible beneath the veil, and was so long it actually hung below it. About her neck Philippa wore a fine gold chain with a pendant made from the diamond and emerald brooch the king’s grandmother had sent her when she had been born.

  “You are not wearing a high-necked chemise,” Cecily noted, seeing no contrasting fabric beneath her friend’s gown.

  “No,” Philippa said with a mischievous smile. “I am not.”

  “But your breasts are quite visible,” Cecily continued nervously.

  “I need bait sufficient if I am going hunting,” Philippa returned wickedly.

  Cecily’s eyes widened, and then she giggled nervously. “Oh, please, remember your reputation, Philippa! I know Giles hurt your feelings, but losing your good name is no way to get back at him. I suspect no man is worth a woman’s losing her character.”

  “Frankly, from my little talk with Giles I am certain he would not care what happened to me, Cecily. He never loved me at all or he would have treated me with more kindness. If the church means more to him than marriage to me, so be it. But he did not consider the difficult position into which he was thrusting me. He thought only of himself. And that I cannot forgive,” Philippa said. “I have kept myself chaste for marriage. I have never even allowed a boy to kiss me, as you well know, although others have. You have! Soon enough my mother will find some propertied squire, or my stepfather will bring forth the son of one of his Scots friends. I shall have to marry, and I shall have had no fun at all! And worse, I shall have to leave court. So what if I am a little bit naughty now. What matter if I gain a slight reputation for myself. The squire or the Scot will never know. I will retain my virginity for my husband, whoever he may be.”

  “Well,” Cecily allowed, “you have really been far better than the rest of us. And now that the king’s minions are out of favor thanks to Cardinal Wolsey, I suppose it is safe to trifle with a few of the young men here at court.”

  “Starting with Millicent’s Sir Walter,” Philippa replied. “I shall teach the little bitch to talk behind my back. And the best part is that while she will be angry at Sir Walter, she will still have to wed him, and she will want to for the prestige such a marriage will bring her.” Philippa chuckled.

  “Poor Sir Walter,” kindhearted Cecily said. “He is marrying a shrew.”

  “I do not feel sorry for him at all,” Philippa responded. “He is in the midst of a negotiation to marry, yet he will be easily tempted by just a glimpse of my breasts. I do not think him an honorable fellow at all. He and Millicent deserve each other. I expect they shall be extremely unhappy together.”

  “Have you no pity then?” Cecily asked.

  Philippa shook her head. “None. If a man cannot be honorable, then what is there? My father, they say, was an honorable and gentil knight. So is my relation, Lord Cambridge, and my stepfather, Logan Hepburn. I would certainly not settle for anything less in a man.”

  “You have become hard,” Cecily responded.

  Philippa shook her head. “Nay, I have always been exactly what I am.”

  Chapter 2

  “Come, my girls,” called the assistant mistress of the maids, Lady Brentwood. “The picnic is beginning. The queen has said you may wander at will this afternoon as long as two or three of you remain by her side. You will take turns, of course, to be fair.”

  The queen’s maids of honor hurried from the Maidens’ Chamber chattering and laughing. A picnic by the river was a wonderful treat, and the formality of the court was always dispensed with on such an occasion. The day was a beautiful one. The skies were blue, and there was just the tiniest of breezes ruffling the flowers in the gardens. It was much too early to execute her plan, and so Philippa volunteered to remain by the queen for a time. She did not see Sir Walter yet, and she would want him to be just slightly drunk.

  “How pretty you look, my child,” the queen told Philippa. “I am quite reminded of your mother when we were girls.” She held her squirming daughter in her lap, for the little princess had been brought forth from her nursery to join the festivities. “Mary, sit still, poppet. Papa will not be pleased.”

  “Would you like me to take her for a walk, your highness?” Philippa inquired politely. “And I can play with her for a short time. I always helped mama look after my sisters and little brothers.”

  The queen looked relieved. “Oh, Philippa, would you? The French ambassador is coming this afternoon to see her that he may write his master, King Francois, of Mary’s progress. Now that she is betrothed to the Dauphin the French watch her. I should prefer she be wed to my nephew, Charles. Yes, take her away, and try and keep her clean.”

  Philippa curtseyed. “I will do my best, madame.” Then she held out her hand to the little princess. “Come, your highness. We shall walk about and admire all the lovely costumes that people are wearing today.”

  Mary Tudor, thirty-nine months of age, slipped from her mother’s lap, and dutifully took Philippa Meredith’s outstretched hand. She was a p
retty child with auburn hair much like Philippa’s, and serious eyes. She was dressed in a miniature gown that matched her mother’s royal garb. “Your gown is pretty,” she told Philippa. She was extremely intelligent, and despite her youth she could now carry on simple conversations in both English and Latin.

  “Thank you, your highness,” Philippa said.

  They walked down by the river, and the little girl pointed to the punts. “Go!” she told Philippa. “I want to go in the boat.”

  Philippa shook her head. “Can you swim, your highness?”

  “No,” little Mary responded.

  “Then you cannot go into the punt. You must be able to swim if you go in the punts,” Philippa explained.

  “Can you swim?” The oddly adult eyes looked at her.

  “Yes,” Philippa replied with a smile, “I can.”

  “Who taught you?” the princess demanded to know.

  “A man named Patrick Leslie, who is earl of Glenkirk,” Philippa answered.

  “Where?” the child questioned.

  “In a lake on my mother’s lands,” Philippa said. “He taught my sisters Banon and Bessie too. We thought our lake cold, but he said the lochs of Scotland were far more chill. I went to Scotland once, but I never swam in a loch.”

  “My auntie Meg is the queen of Scotland,” little Mary said.

  “Not any longer,” Philippa corrected the princess. “As a widow who has remarried she is now known as the king’s mother. But I visited her court with my mother when she was queen. It was quite a fine court.”

  “Better than my papa’s court?” the princess inquired slyly.

  “There is no court as grand as King Henry’s,” Philippa quickly answered. “You know very well, your highness, that your papa is the grandest and the handsomest prince in all of Christendom.”

  “Such delightful flattery!” the king said, coming up to them.

  Philippa curtseyed low, her cheeks pink with her blush.