The Last Heiress (17 page)

She decided if it was all right with Rob then it was fine with her. So the king bedded her, and afterwards the bridegroom bedded her. Nine months later I was born. There was no doubt whose son I was, and I was named Flynn, which means ‘son of the red-haired man.’ The king was embarrassed at the manner in which I was conceived. My mother says he apologized to her half a dozen times. He insisted I bear his surname, but he would never formally recognize me because of his shame. But he visited me when he was in the area, and never forgot my natal day.

My stepfather was a good man, and loved me every bit as much as the children he sired on my mother. But Rob Gray died at Flodden with the king. My twelve-year-old half brother, Ian, became the new laird of Athdar, and I his watchdog.

“A year later Robert Gray’s only male relation appeared at Athdar.

His name was Muir Gray, and he claimed to have survived Flodden, but been gravely wounded. He had not come sooner, he told our mother, because he had been recovering. I never believed he was at Flodden. Muir Gray was by nature a coward. But my mother welcomed him. Several months later my brother, who had always been healthy and strong, began to sicken. And all the while my mother was being slowly seduced by Muir Gray. He asked her to marry him, and despite our warnings that he was not a good man, our mother wed Muir Gray.

Her belly was already swelling with his spawn on their wedding day.

My brother died shortly thereafter. I am certain Muir murdered him, but I could never prove it. Then my mother died, and her stillborn son with her.

“Muir Gray was now the undisputed laird of Athdar. He barely mourned my mother before he was sending my younger half sister, Janet, into a convent, and bedding the older of my half sisters, Mary.

As soon as she was with child, he married her. I protested both these acts, and was told as my mother’s bastard I could have a place in the stables, but I could no longer live in the house. When I suggested his 
blood relationship to my sister was close enough to forbid the bonds of marriage between them, he said he would kill me if I ever questioned the legitimacy of his children. He had offered me a home and work only at the behest of my sister. I tried to speak with Mary, but she would not listen to me. She loved him, she said. I packed my few possessions, and left Athdar that day.”

“I am sorry that you lost your home,” Elizabeth said.

“Athdar was never mine,” he said quietly. “Wherever I can serve my king is where my home is, Elizabeth.”

“How did you come to serve the king?” she asked him.

“I went to Edinburgh, and discovered that my face can open a great many doors. You see, not only did I have James IV’s red hair, I had his face as well. I wangled an introduction to the Duke of Lennox, who was the regent for the little king, and asked to enter his service. He welcomed me as a kinsman, and put me into the little king’s household. It was my duty to teach James V how to ride, and to sit by his side as his companion at all times. Actually the duke wanted my eyes and ears to prevent the mayhem that always surrounds Stewart kings.

When he was gone my first loyalty went to my half brother. As he grew we had some grand adventures.” Flynn chuckled. “When he was eighteen my royal half brother seized his power from those attempting to rule for him. He sent me to England so that should his uncle, King Henry, ever need to communicate with Scotland quickly I am here for him.”

“And to be his eyes and ears, I am quite certain,” Elizabeth teased him.

“But you’ll not tell anyone that,” Flynn said seriously, and she was not certain whether he was teasing her back or it was the truth.

“Nay,” she agreed. “I will not tell. ’Twill be our secret, Flynn Stewart.”

He grinned. “I think I shall like sharing secrets with you, Elizabeth Meredith. May it be the first of many between us.”

Elizabeth blushed, but then she giggled. “I can only imagine what my sister would think if she came upon us now. She would complain that I was not behaving like a proper lady should behave.”

“Oh, you are a lady, Elizabeth,” he told her, “but I will agree with 
Lady Philippa. You are not in the least proper. But I far prefer a woman who is honest, and you are that. There is no deceit in you.”

“I am a country woman,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“Beware the seducers,” he warned her. “They will be the most highly thought of and respectable men.”

“Why would they bother to seduce me if they could wed me?” she asked him candidly.

“They want your wealth, sweetheart, but not the responsibilities entailed. If they can seduce you, and brut it about, then they have you for no other will,” he explained.

“It’s like being one of my own lambs in a pasture of wolves, wild dogs, and bears,” Elizabeth complained. “I do not see what Philippa sees in this court of hers.”

“I will guard your back, Elizabeth,” he told her. “Stay in Mistress Boleyn’s company, and do not wander off alone with any. You should be safe.”

“Do you like her?” she asked him.

“Aye, I do,” he replied, knowing exactly whom she meant. “But she has dangerous relations. They will be the death of her, I fear. And the ambitious crowd about her. She can really trust none, but God’s wounds, she needs a friend!”

“I will be her friend,” Elizabeth said, realizing as she did that she meant it.

Chapter 6

F
lynn Stewart departed back to the palace, and, gathering up her garments, Elizabeth returned to the house to bring them to Nancy.

“He likes you,” her tiring woman said.

“We met only this morning,” Elizabeth responded.

“Well, he likes what he saw then, for why else would a man go chasing after a runaway punt down the Thames to bring back your clothing?” Nancy asked in practical tones. “You’ve made a friend, mistress. ’Tis not a bad end to your first day at court. Now I’ll just take these things back upstairs and see if I can sort them out and repair any damage. Then we’ll decide what you are to wear tomorrow. Come along and take a nice nap. If Maybel is to be believed you’ll get precious little rest once you become involved in court life.” She bustled up the stairs, Elizabeth following.

In late afternoon Lord Cambridge returned to his house, and together they sat in the hall of the Greenwich house, which also overlooked the river, having a meal together. William Smythe joined them, and Elizabeth told them of Flynn Stewart’s visit.

“I could not imagine someone being so kind here,” she said.

“Philippa will be pleased to learn I have those beautiful sleeves back.

Why did she not return with you, Uncle Thomas? Is she still angry with me?”

“She is like one possessed,” Lord Cambridge said as he helped himself to a thick slice of ham. “She is determined to find you a husband, dear girl. She is prowling the court like a veritable tigress in search of the right man. But you were astute in your observations today. There is no one here for you. However, let us enjoy the month of May, and then we will return north. I know your mother will be disappointed, but it is obvious fate has something else in store for you.” He turned to his secretary. “And you, dear boy, was your day successful?”

“I have made an arrangement with the French merchant in London for the silk thread we want,” Will answered. “He likes doing business with us because we do not cheat him like so many others do. The thread will be sent directly to Friarsgate.”

“How soon?” Elizabeth wanted to know. “In time for the winter weaving?”

“Yes, mistress,” Will responded.

“I have been thinking of a new color,” Elizabeth said.

Lord Cambridge laughed. “Dear girl, no business at court, I pray you.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Very well, Uncle,” she said mischievously, “but what would you think of a new green?”

“Wicked creature! It would depend on the particular shade of green,” he murmured. “Now, tell me more about this handsome royal by-blow. Do you have a weakness for Scots like your mother, dear girl?” His brown eyes twinkled at her.

“Is he not unsuitable, Uncle?” she said seriously.

“Aye,” Thomas Bolton said, “and yet perhaps not. He has no lands of his own, or title. Do you think he would make a good helpmeet?”

“I think his loyalty to his king might interfere,” Elizabeth replied.

“We spoke at length this afternoon, for he is indeed a pleasant con-versationalist, but he owes this king his place, his honor. I do not see him as a man ready to settle down. I wonder if he will ever be, Uncle.

He is that sort of a gentleman.”

“Still, we might consider him. Perhaps he is tired of being away from home all the time,” Lord Cambridge suggested.

“He told me that home was wherever he might serve his king,” Elizabeth noted.

“That does not bode well,” William Smythe noted. “Perhaps, my lord, he is not the man for Mistress Elizabeth.”

“I so dislike returning north only to admit defeat,” Lord Cambridge said.

“Perhaps,” Will soothed, “Lady Philippa will find some suitable gentlemen. If anyone can, she is the lady for the task.”

But Philippa was having no more success finding eligible gentlemen willing to go north for Elizabeth than she had been able to find one for herself those years ago. Yet she understood. King Henry’s court was the center of the universe. One came here because one wanted to be here. Not in the north of England forever. And Elizabeth was not helping herself at all. She had taken up with Anne Boleyn and her coterie of young people. Of all the people she might have involved herself at court, Elizabeth had aligned herself with the king’s whore, even knowing how much Philippa disapproved.

But Elizabeth had taken Lord Cambridge’s advice, and decided to enjoy herself. It was not often she had or even made time for herself.

While many who knew her said her burden was heavy, Elizabeth never considered it in that manner. She was the lady of Friarsgate, and she had responsibilities. Now, however, she was at court, and an entire new world had been opened up to her. She found she was actually enjoying being frivolous, if only for this month. She did not grow weary with all the excitement. It was actually quite refreshing for her.

“You are the only lady I have found able to keep up with me,” Anne Boleyn said a week later as they sat together in the gardens of the palace. “How is it so, I wonder?”

“I am used to hard work, unlike most of the ladies of the court,”

Elizabeth said. “I do wonder, though, if you ever sleep, dear Anne.”

They were now on a first-name basis.

“Sleep is a waste of time, Bess.” Anne Boleyn had christened Elizabeth with this appellation, and Elizabeth had not forbidden it. “I have so much to do, to see, to be!”

“You have a lifetime, Anne,” was the reply.

“I am to be twenty-five in November,” Anne said. “That is practically old, and I am not yet a wife.” She sighed. “I might have been, you know. I was courted by Harry Percy, Northumberland’s scion, but Wolsey, damn his eyes, stopped it.”

“Why?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“Because the king wanted me,” Anne said candidly. “But he has not had all he desires,” she confided. “I told him I should never be his mistress, and while the queen was in the picture I could not be his wife. I follow the example of King Edward’s wife.” She smiled grimly. “But I have had my own back on Thomas Wolsey. I said I would when he forced Harry Percy into marriage with another. And everyone laughed at me, but they are not laughing now. Wolsey has been brought down, and is gone from court.”

“Where has he gone?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“He has been sent to York, for it is his archbishopric, but he cannot seem to get any farther than Cawood,” Anne replied. “No matter.

He’ll never have the king’s ear again. A man of the church, Bess, and he pimped for the king! If he had just let me have Harry I should be a wife and mother now. But no one ever allows me my way. I must do this, and I must do that! The king commands. My uncle, the duke, commands.” She sighed. “And everyone hates me. They but wait for the king to stray again.”

“I do not hate you, Anne,” Elizabeth said.

“You know little of me but what you have heard,” Anne said forlornly.

“Aye, I have heard the gossip,” Elizabeth admitted, “but I know you now, Anne, and there is little truth to rumor, I have learned.”

“You always say exactly what you are thinking, don’t you?” Anne said. “How I envy you that ability. I must couch every word that I utter carefully so that that which I mean is understood perfectly, and cannot be confused or used against me.”

“I have not been brought up as you were, Anne. When you were nine, you were off to France in Princess Mary’s wedding train. I was running barefoot through my mother’s meadows chasing the sheep.

When you were twelve, you were in the household of Queen Claude of France. I was learning the business of how my estates are managed.

When you were seventeen, you joined this court. When I was fourteen, the responsibility for Friarsgate became mine. I am a country woman by inclination and breeding. You are a noblewoman, a courtier. I should not be understood in my world if I spoke as a courtier speaks,” Elizabeth said with a small smile. “My family has attempted to smooth what they consider my rough edges, but they have not, I fear, been as successful as they would wish. If my forthrightness does not offend you, then I am glad. I cannot be that which I am not.”

“Nay, you do not offend me,” Anne replied. “You are the only person whom I can believe or trust, Bess Meredith. My uncle, the duke, asked what it was I saw in you. He would not approve our friendship but that your nephew is one of his pages, and the son of the Earl of Witton. I said your honesty pleased me.”

“And that I am here for but a short while,” Elizabeth said with a twinkle in her eye. “I have seen the duke. He is a formidable-looking gentleman.”

“Aye, he is formidable,” Anne agreed. “He is the head of our family, and I must do what he tells me to do.” She shivered. “Sometimes I say no because I know now I can go to the king, and he will protect me. My uncle does not like that, but he must acquiesce, for he has no other choice. The king will be obeyed above all.”