Virginia Henley (49 page)

T
en blissful days of privacy came to an end when Isobel and her sister-in-law, Beth, descended upon Spencer Park.

“Catherine, I have persuaded your aunt to help plan for Queen Anne’s stay. Lady Hunsdon has far more experience entertaining the nobility than either of us and she has generously offered her staff of servants, if we need them. I hope you don’t mind?”

“I welcome you both with all my heart. Accommodating royalty would surely overwhelm me if I tried to do it alone. Fortunately, Patrick is a font of information regarding the queen’s household. He spent the entire day with me yesterday, calming my jitters as we inspected every chamber and decided where to put everyone.”

“On top of the mundane problems of feeding and housing her entourage, there is the issue of providing suitable royal entertainment.” Isobel stood wringing her hands.

“Patrick assures me this will not be a prolonged visit. At most it will be a two-night rest before the queen travels on to London. Don’t forget—Queen Anne has young children, and her Court is not nearly as formal as Elizabeth’s was. Liz Carey has been put in charge of Baby Charles, and Prince Henry, who is nine, and Princess Elizabeth, who’s seven, each have their own household of servants. I’ve decided to put all the children in the east wing.”

Catherine’s words stirred Beth’s memory. “That’s the nursery wing, which gets the morning sun. Your father and I had our rooms there when we were children.”

“But the nurseries are no longer furnished. There won’t be enough beds,” Isobel fretted.

“Royalty travels with its own featherbeds, Mother. That’s why the entourage is moving south at a snail’s pace. The servants have to set up and then dismantle all the furnishings.”

“Where will you put Queen Anne and her ladies?”

“Come, I’ll show you. I’ve decided to give them the entire second floor of the west wing overlooking the river.”

As they walked through the rooms, Isobel’s critical eyes inspected the carpets and window drapes. “But the view is better from the top floor, and the chambers up there are far more splendid, don’t you think, Catherine?”

“Indeed they are, but Hepburn refuses to give them up, even for royalty. Lord Stewart is undisputed master of his own household.”

“Do I hear my name being taken in vain?”

As Cat watched Patrick kiss the ladies’ hands, she hid her amusement at the way they simpered. It was obvious that females of every age were susceptible to his virile charm.

“Beth has offered us her servants, if we need them.”

“That is most generous, Lady Hunsdon. Anne will have her ladies to serve her and the royal children will have servants aplenty, but our kitchen staff will need extra hands to prepare the meals. Food itself will be no problem, since we have our own beef, poultry, eggs, butter and cheese. The river is filled with trout and, thanks to your late husband, Isobel, Spencer Park has its own gristmill for flour to bake our own bread and pies.”

“I shall send to Blackfriars for the Hunsdon kitchen staff. Have you any idea how many will be traveling with the queen?”

“I plan to send David Hepburn north to find out how many and exactly which day we can expect them. The Earl and Countess of Bedford have offered Anne’s entourage the hospitality of Woburn Abbey, a distance of approximately twenty miles from here. If she and her ladies ride, they could arrive here by midday, but the baggage carts lumber along much more slowly and won’t be here until evening.”

“Catherine, how fortunate you are in your choice of husbands. He seems to have everything under control,” Beth declared.

Patrick exchanged an intimate glance with his bride. “Nay, I am the fortunate one, Lady Hunsdon.”

“We must post guards at the gate to ensure that the hordes of riffraff that are streaming down to the capital don’t follow the queen’s entourage onto Spencer property.”

Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “Would that be Scottish riffraff or English, Isobel?”

She colored slightly, but held her ground. “I mean no disrespect, Lord Stewart. Since I’m Scottish myself I feel justified in voicing my criticism. It seems that hundreds of slum dwellers from both Glasgow and Edinburgh are flocking south.”

Beth nodded. “The Lord Mayor is considering closing the gates of London to these indigents because of their vast number.”

“That won’t solve the problem. The impoverished masses will never turn around and go home. They see England as a land flowing with milk and honey, compared with the harsh conditions they have endured in Scotland. They will simply live in hovels outside the city walls, begging and stealing alongside the English slum dwellers,” Patrick predicted.

Catherine felt sudden compassion for these unfortunate masses. “You cannot blame people for wanting to improve their lives.”

“That is exactly what King James has done.”
And you, yourself, Hepburn,
he admitted silently. “You are too tenderhearted, Cat. Marriage to me will soon cure you of that,” he jested.

The ladies laughed. It was obvious that he doted on his bride.

It was the end of April before Queen Anne, accompanied by five of her ladies-in-waiting, rode into the courtyard of Spencer Park. A dozen well-armed grooms known as the Queen’s Guard accompanied them. Lord and Lady Stewart were waiting outside to greet her.

Patrick Hepburn stepped forward to lift Anne from the saddle, and a groom led her horse away. “Welcome to Spencer Park, Your Majesty. It is my great pleasure to present my wife, Catherine.”

Cat, smiling radiantly, curtsied to the queen.

Anne exchanged a knowing glance with Hepburn and murmured, “You lost no time securing the prize, Patrick.” Then she stepped forward, took Catherine’s hand and raised her. “I congratulate you on having the good sense to marry a Scot, Lady Stewart. I could not resist riding on such a glorious day. I must confess that I have fallen in love with England. With every mile the countryside becomes lovelier, the weather warmer and the flowers prettier. I thank you with all my heart for your hospitality.”

“Your Majesty, it is our great honor to have you. In May, every hedgerow will be abloom with wild roses, and the orchards will be a profusion of blossoms. You couldn’t have chosen a more perfect time of year to see England at her best.”

From the tail of his eye, Patrick saw the guards lift the queen’s ladies from their saddles. Margretha, however, remained mounted, as if she were awaiting his assistance. He knew it must have come as a surprise to her that he had taken a wife since the last time they had seen each other, but he took it for granted that she would have the good sense to accept his
fait accompli
with grace.
She has no choice,
he thought bluntly, dismissing the lady-in-waiting from his thoughts as he and Cat led Anne into the house.

Isobel and Beth stood in the entrance hall awaiting Queen Anne. Cat presented her mother to Her Royal Highness, and Isobel swept into a deep curtsy. “Your Gracious Majesty.”

“Lady Spencer, you are the Earl of Winton’s daughter, I believe. Geordie attended the king’s birthday at Holyrood Palace and brought your beautiful daughter to our Court.”

Patrick said smoothly, “Isobel held the post of Mistress of the Queen’s Wardrobe. Elizabeth held her in the highest esteem in spite of the fact that she is Scottish. The late queen, who prided herself on having the most magnificent wardrobe in Christendom, insisted all the credit belonged to Lady Spencer.”

Anne took the bait immediately. “Catherine must get her gift of fashion design from you, Isobel. How fortuitous that we have met. As the new Queen of England, I believe your advice about my wardrobe could prove invaluable to me.”

“You honor me, Your Majesty.” Isobel immediately transferred the deep reverence and loyalty she had always reserved for Elizabeth to the new, young, statuesque Queen of England.

“May I also present Lady Hunsdon? Beth is married to Robert Carey’s eldest brother,” Patrick explained.

Queen Anne raised Beth from her curtsy. “Robert has earned the eternal gratitude of King James. His wife, Liz, was my first English friend. She will be arriving shortly with Baby Charles, who absolutely adores her. I am delighted to meet you, Beth.”

Catherine saw that Queen Anne’s female attendants had caught up with her. “If you will follow me, Your Majesty, I will show you to the chambers we have prepared.” Cat led the way to the west wing. “This second floor is entirely yours. The bathing chamber is at the end of the hall. The moment your baggage arrives, I will see that it is sent up. Lord Stewart and I occupy the chambers directly above. If there is aught whatsoever you need, please do not hesitate to ask. We are all here to serve you.”

Anne and her attendants exclaimed over the spacious, elegant chambers of Spencer Park, which were in stark contrast to the dark, gloomy rooms of Holyrood. All except Margretha, who looked at Catherine through narrowed, malevolent eyes.

Poor Lady Gretha. Not only does she covet my husband; she envies me my home as well.
Cat could not help pitying her. She hurried back downstairs to signal Beth that her staff could now take up refreshments and offer hot water for bathing. She was in time to hear her mother offering Hepburn her gratitude.

“My lord, I cannot thank you enough for singing my praises to Her Majesty. Because of you, I feel confident that Anne will appoint me her Mistress of the Queen’s Wardrobe.”

His possessive glance swept over Catherine as she descended the stairs. “Isobel, you gave me my heart’s desire. I am simply trying to return the favor.” He cocked his head. “I hear a carriage—perhaps some of the royal children have arrived. I’m confident that Mr. Burke has all under control in the courtyard and stables, but I’m sure he’ll welcome my help. Don’t be surprised if Robert rides in from London so he can be with Liz.”

Because of the detailed plans they had made for Queen Anne’s stay at Spencer Park, all seemed to go reasonably smoothly the rest of the day. The baggage wagons arrived before the royal children, and their trunks were taken to the east wing and their beds set up in readiness for them.

“Liz, how lovely to see you. Let me help you.” Cat took Baby Charles from her arms. “What a beautiful boy you are. The nursery is all set up for you, Liz.”

“Thank you, Catherine. I just saw Hepburn outside. I can’t believe that you two are married!”

“He rode like a madman and arrived on my birthday. The next day the king married us. Patrick swept me off my feet.”

“You sly devils, pretending to be enemies. Yet I always suspected a smoldering attraction between you.”

“Congratulations on your royal appointment. Queen Anne could not have chosen a lovelier lady to be in charge of her baby’s household, but isn’t a prince a heavy responsibility?”

“Not really. Babies just need love. I have two nursemaids at my beck and call, and Queen Anne is a devoted mother.”

Patrick and Robert walked into the nursery, and Liz flew to her husband’s side. “Darling, how is your leg?”

“In grave need of a wife’s attention,” he teased.

Patrick’s gaze swept over his own wife holding the baby. “I too am getting lusty ideas. Such a fine nursery cries out for a Hepburn heir.”

Catherine’s heartbeat quickened at the thought of giving Patrick a son. Reluctantly she handed Baby Charles back to Liz.

“I have planned dinner for eight o’clock so there will be ample time to feed the children early and get them to bed. Liz, I am counting on you and Robert to engage the queen in conversation in case I become totally tongue-tied when we sit down to eat.”

Patrick slipped his arm about her for a reassuring hug. “This queen is not a formidable tyrant, nor does she insist on rigid formality. Believe it or not, she is almost human,” he teased.

Thanks to a concerted effort on the part of everyone involved in planning, cooking and serving the dinner, it was a success. Everything on the table was provided by the estate, from the fragrant day lilies to the oxtail soup, trout, pheasant and roast beef. The strawberries served with thick clotted cream proved an outstanding favorite with the queen and her ladies.

Catherine had seated Anne next to Hepburn at the head of the table and was amazed at the ease of their conversation. Every guest contributed an amusing anecdote, and it was evident that the queen had a delightful sense of humor. When she tasted the pheasant and admitted she preferred it to Scottish grouse, it prompted Cat to tell the amusing story of how she had gone into the woods at Richmond to release the tiny ruffed grouse and had been accosted by an uncivilized brute wearing a sheepskin.

“He obviously made a lasting impression,” Anne said, laughing.

“It was my deerhounds that stole her heart,” Patrick insisted. After dinner, they were entertained by a piper. Hepburn had spotted one of the queen’s guards carrying a set of bagpipes and had recruited him to play some lively reels. A party atmosphere prevailed as everyone laughed, sang and sipped golden Rhenish wine. Anne did not retire to her west wing until midnight, stamping the evening with the royal seal of success.

Catherine kissed her mother and her aunt Beth and thanked them for their help and moral support. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” Then she went into the kitchens to thank both the Spencer staff and those who had come from the Hunsdon household in Blackfriars. “The food was delicious and the service superb. Everything was truly fit for a queen. If tomorrow turns out to be as successful as today, I shall be forever in your debt.”

When she came from the kitchens she saw her husband heading toward the front door. “Everything went like clockwork, Patrick. Thank you for being my magic man.”

His arms went around her and he dropped a kiss onto her silken curls. “Nay, the lion’s share of the credit is yours, sweetheart. It was a resounding triumph, especially for a little wench who’s only goal used to be wearing the most elegant gown.”