The Last Heiress (48 page)

“Baen wants me to find a wet nurse for young Tom, Mama,” Elizabeth told her mother. “One who will live here in the house.”

Rosamund nodded. “Humor him, but begin your special elixir immediately.”

“I will nurse young Tom until Michaelmas,” Elizabeth said.

“Do not believe that old wives’ tale about nursing woman being infertile,” Rosamund warned her daughter. “It is not necessarily true. I was still nursing you when I became enceinte with your brother who perished.”

“Oh, dear!” Elizabeth murmured.

Rosamund grinned conspiratorially. “Heed my advice, Elizabeth.

Today.” Then she kissed her daughter. “Farewell, my darling. I am content that I finally leave Friarsgate in two pairs of most excellent hands.”

“Because of Baen?” Elizabeth said with a small smile.

“Aye, but also because Friarsgate now has a new heir, and the hope of more to come,” Rosamund Bolton Hepburn said with a smile.

Chapter 16

A
year and a half had passed since young Thomas Hay’s baptism. Friarsgate was locked in another winter. Candlemas had passed, and the lambs were being born once more in the February snows. Elizabeth and Baen were locked in a struggle to keep the manor safe and prosperous, for this particular winter was proving a cruel one. They were therefore very surprised when on the last snowy day of the month a messenger arrived at their door. As he was brought into the hall by Albert, who took his cloak, Elizabeth saw that the man wore the royal livery. A sense of foreboding gripped her.

“Come in, sir, and welcome,” she greeted him, signaling a servant for wine.

The messenger came directly to her and bowed low. “Have I the honor of addressing the lady of Friarsgate?” he asked.

“I am she,” Elizabeth replied.

“I bring you a message from the queen, madame,” the messenger responded.

“Queen Katherine? What can she possibly want with me?” Elizabeth said aloud, voicing her thought.

“Nay, madame. The princess of Aragon is no longer queen. ’Tis Queen Anne from whom I come.” He reached into his doublet and drew forth a packet, handing it to Elizabeth with another bow.

“You will be hungry, sir, and tired,” Elizabeth said as she accepted the packet. “Albert will show you to the kitchens for a hot meal, and then he will give you a warm bed space here in the hall. You must remain with us until the weather clears.”

“I was instructed to return directly from you with an answer to the queen,” the messenger told Elizabeth.

The lady of Friarsgate nodded. “Of course,” she said, “but you shall not go until the storm is over, sir.”

“Thank you, madame,” the messenger said and, turning away, followed Albert out of the hall.

“Queen Anne?” Baen looked puzzled.

“My only friend at court, Anne Boleyn. She did vow she would be queen one day,” Elizabeth said slowly. “I shall not know anything until I have read the letter she has sent to me.” She looked down at the packet in her hand for a long moment. Then she broke the red wax seal and unfolded the oiled parchment. There was Anne’s familiar careless scrawl. Elizabeth focused her gaze on the words.

I am his wife as I said I would be. And I am to be crowned in June. I
will tell you all when I see you, and you cannot refuse my command.

I am your queen now. I am surrounded by the ambitious, and those
who formerly professed to despise me now toady to me in an effort to
gain my favor. I pretend to give it, but you know me better, dear Elizabeth. I need your friendship now more than I have ever needed it. But
I do not beg. You are commanded to court, my lady of Friarsgate. I
want you here in time for my coronation, and other things. You will
arrive no later than the twentieth day of May. We will be at Greenwich as we always are. Return my messenger with word of your plans.

Anne R.

Elizabeth reread the letter once, and then again. Her face was pale with her distress. If there was one place in the world she did not want to be it was court.

“What does it say?” Baen’s voice broke her thoughts.

“I am commanded to court,” Elizabeth said softly.

“By whom?” he demanded to know.

“By Queen Anne. He has married her, which means he has obtained his divorce from Queen Katherine, poor foolish lady,” Elizabeth said. “Philippa must be beside herself, and I think it odd she did not write to me or our mother. Certainly a messenger would have stopped by here on his way to Claven’s Carn. Knowing my oldest sister, she is being loyal to the end, yet torn by the situation because of her sons’ careers. Philippa is very ambitious for her lads.”

“You will not go, of course,” Baen said.

“Nay, I will go, husband. I have been commanded to court, and there is no excuse for refusing a royal command,” Elizabeth told him.

“I do not want to go, but I will.” She sighed. “How like Anne to demand my presence because she is feeling alone. She is a strange creature. Her heart is good, but few know it. Yet she will demand my presence without any thought for how my life will be conflicted.”

“You were friends with her? I have heard her called the king’s whore,” Baen said.

“Nay, she was not his whore. Had she been, Queen Katherine might still have her place, for the king is a fickle man, and should have discarded Anne long since, as he did her sister, Mary. But he does need a legitimate son, and refused even to consider the princesses who are available because of his passion for Anne Boleyn,” Elizabeth said.

“Does he not love her?” Baen asked.

“I do not believe this king capable of the kind of love we share, that my mother and my sisters share with their husbands. He has but one paramount desire, and that is for a legitimate son and heir. He has proved himself capable of siring a son with Bessie Blount, and many say Mary Boleyn’s son is his. The king and his counselors, of course, deny that paternity, for to admit it would make any marriage with Mistress Anne null and void on the basis of consanguinity, and any child she bore him bastard. I think it is very possible, although she says it not in so many words, that Anne may already be with child.”

Baen shook his head. “I thought you despised the court, Elizabeth.

Did you not swear you would never return?”

“I do, and I did,” Elizabeth admitted, “but the choice has been taken from my hands, Baen. The queen commands. I must obey.”

“Could you not plead your belly?” he said hopefully.

“I wish I could,” she replied, “but I cannot.”

“When will you go?” He did not look happy.

“Certainly not until late April,” Elizabeth said.

“You must get your uncle to accompany you,” Baen decided.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Nay. Not this time. Besides, he has become more and more content to remain at Otterly. I know what I face this time. When I send the messenger back to the queen I shall ask that she send me an escort to bring me to Greenwich, for I cannot travel alone.”

“I should go with you,” he said.

“And who would steward Friarsgate if you did? Edmund cannot take the burden up ever again, Baen, and you know it. Besides, what would you possibly do while I am dancing attendance on the queen?

You are not a courtier, and the only Scots there are those attached to King James’s ambassador,” Elizabeth said.

“Are you ashamed of me, lass?” he asked quietly.

“Nay! And how can you even ask such a question of me, husband?

I love you, Baen, and I am proud to be your wife. I picked you for myself, did I not? I am not going to court to pay a social call upon the king and his queen; I am going to comfort my friend, who, for all her bravado and temper tantrums, is obviously frightened. Long ago when my mother was a girl at the court of King Henry VII, she was befriended by Queen Margaret and the Princess of Aragon. They were of an age together in the house of the king’s mother. And afterwards, when the princess was ignored and frightened, abandoned by all, and left destitute even by her own father, the king of Spain, my mother sent her small purses to aid her survival.

“This is the basis of my family’s friendship with Katherine of Aragon. This is how my eldest sister gained her place in the queen’s household, and thus was able to climb into the ranks of the nobility herself. But when I went to court several years ago the queen was already out of favor. I did not even pay my respects, for she was gone then. Unlike my sisters, who enjoyed the court, I felt gauche and very much out of place. I could not control my tongue, which is what brought me to Anne’s attention. She is clever herself, and likes clever friends. She befriended me, Baen, and for the short time I remained at court that friendship made my life quite pleasant. Not so much so that I did not long to return home as quickly as possible, of course. But at least I was no longer sad.

“But while the king favored Anne, many at court—my own sister included—did not. They were all sure the king would tire of her as he had many others. Most could barely conceal their scorn for her, and went out of their way to slight her when they dared. But I judged Anne Boleyn on the girl herself. Her family and her pedigree meant nothing to me. I liked her. She was clever and witty, unlike most others but a few. She made the king laugh with her keen and shrewd intelligence. She is musical, and the king loves music. She is a wonderful dancer, and the king loves nothing better than a good dancer. And seeing another girl come to court who like herself did not really fit in, she reached out to me and brought me into her circle. She treated me with kindness. She is vain, and she is selfish. She is determined in her desires and her need to have her own way, but we became friends, Baen. Like my mother I place a great store by loyalty. My friend, the queen, has called for me. I will go, and that is the end of it, my dearest husband.”

“How long do you think you will be gone from me?” he asked her, and he reached out to bring her into the circle of his strong arms, his lips brushing the top of her blond head. “I cannot bear the thought of being without you,” Baen told her.

“Do not say it!” Elizabeth cried softly. “I must obey, and yet I hate having to leave you, to leave our wee Tom, to leave Friarsgate.” She buried her head in his chest.

“How long?” he repeated.

She shook her head. “I do not know. Anne can be difficult and quixotic when she wants her own way. Hopefully my presence will calm her, and I shall be able to leave her again after a few weeks.”

“If you do not return within a reasonable time I will come after you,” Baen told his wife. “This queen has the world at her feet, especially if she carries the king’s heir. She does not need my wife more than our son and I do.”

“I love it when you are so masterful,” Elizabeth teased him with a small giggle.

Baen chuckled. “Are you wheedling me, wife?” he teased back.

“You are becoming too clever for me, husband,” she replied.

“Nay,” he said softly. “I shall never be as clever as you, Elizabeth.”

“If you know that,” she responded quickly, “then you have at least become wise, my darling, and that could make you dangerous.” Her hazel-green eyes twinkled mischievously up at him.

His hand slipped wickedly into her shirt to caress a plump breast. He tweaked the nipple while pressing kisses onto her face. Slowly, slowly he pulled her back until he felt the seat of the chair facing the fire against the back of his legs. He sat, bringing her onto his lap as he did so. He nibbled on her earlobe, whispering to her in very explicit terms exactly what he intended on doing to her in the next few minutes.

Elizabeth felt the heat rush into her cheeks at the murmured words, but she was already growing weak with her need. Had she known the delicious delights of the marriage bed, she thought fuzzily, she would have married far younger than she did. But perhaps it would not have been so wonderful with another man. Perhaps it was just because her husband was a lusty Scot named Baen.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he said, his hand now sliding up her leg, his fingers slowly caressing the inside of her silky thigh.

“Everything you promised me,” she answered him breathlessly.

“Everything?” he asked her.

“Everything!”

“Right now, and right here in the hall?” he taunted.

“Aye! Right now, and right here in our hall!” she replied fiercely.

The fingers entwined themselves in the curls covering her mons, lightly brushing it in a teasing motion that sometimes tickled, sometime pulled. And then a single finger followed the faint groove down her slit. Down and up it moved until she was quivering with her anticipation.

“Mistress.” Albert’s voice pierced her consciousness. He was standing somewhere behind them.

“Yes, Albert?” she said calmly, although her heart was hammering wildly.

“The messenger is being fed. Is there anything else I may do for you right now?”

“Nay, Albert, go and have your supper,” Elizabeth said.

“Thank you, mistress.” he replied, and they heard his footsteps retreating behind them.

“Do you think he saw?” Elizabeth fretted.

“Saw what?” Baen mocked her. “His master and mistress cuddling with the dog at their feet before the fire.”

“Your hand up my skirt, you devil,” she retorted.

Baen’s big finger slipped between her nether lips. “Nay. He could hardly see over this high-backed chair. I was proud of you, Elizabeth.

’Twas well done, wife,” he praised her with a grin. Then, finding his objective, he began to play with it, rubbing, teasing, pinching it just enough to make her squeal softly with her excitement. Friar’s ears twitched slightly at the sound, and he raised his head up, but, seeing nothing requiring his attention, the dog went back to sleep. “Look at me, Elizabeth,” Baen suddenly commanded.

Her gaze locked onto his, her eyes widening as he pushed two thick fingers into her love passage and began to gently frig her. His look was one of the pleasure he was giving her, and she sighed. He bent to kiss her mouth, one kiss blending into another, hot and wet, until she moaned against his lips, “I want it all, Baen! I want it all!”

He withdrew the two fingers and sat her up, helping her to strad-dle him. She loosened his garments, freeing his love lance, hard with his desire for her. “Do you think we have time before the messenger comes into the hall?” she whispered. She was burning with her need for him.