Lost Love Found (12 page)

“Not coming?” The theater attendant looked at her askance. “And why is he not coming, I should like to know?”

“Because he has been in the Fleet on Her Majesty’s orders since yesterday. Obviously your ticket seller knew or he would not have sold Lord Burke his tickets. Let us pass, please. I am not accustomed to being forced to stand about a public place waiting to be seated. I am Lady Barrows, one of Her Majesty’s ladies-in-waiting.”

The attendant made Valentina a leg, then escorted them to their seats. “I apologize, madam. I was not informed. I hope you will not speak ill of the Globe to Her Majesty.” He was very impressed by Lady Barrows’s air of authority, not to mention her beauty. He had supposed all of the queen’s women were dried-up sticks like old Bess herself.

“An understandable mistake,” Valentina replied graciously as she was seated. She smiled her thanks at the attendant, then immediately ignored him.

Lord Burke barely managed to contain his glee. “God’s foot, what a vixen you are! Another moment, and the poor man would have been begging your forgiveness.”

“The Earl of Pembroke is in the Fleet,” she said, “so where was the harm in setting the man straight? Would you have stood there and argued with him, my lord? What are those rooms facing the stage?” she asked. “Why do some have their curtains drawn, and others not? Would not one of those rooms been more private?”

“Oh, immensely more private, madam, and entirely damaging to your reputation. You would have been ruined at court the moment you set foot in one of them. Those rooms are where the high-priced whores entertain their customers. You are also apt to find in the audience more than one highborn lady of the court behind jeweled masks offering hospitality to their lovers away from the prying eyes of husbands and friends. During the performance, watch those boxes. The whores will wave and call to the gentlemen from their seats. Those who sit silently behind their masks watching the performance are usually having an illicit rendezvous. As for the curtains, Val, when drawn it generally means that, er, business is being conducted.”

She colored. “Gracious! This is certainly a very different world in which I suddenly find myself, Padraic. I mink I am very fortunate to have you and Willow to watch over me. I can see that I have a great deal to learn about life in the city and life at court.”

“I will indeed watch over you, Val,” he said softly into her ear. “You are my most treasured possession, sweet love.” God’s foot! He loved the freshness of her perfume!

“I am no one’s possession, my lord,” she said in a low, angry voice. “How dare you say such a thing?”

Before he could reply, a voice called out. “Burke! Padraic Burke! Is it truly you?”

They looked up to see an elegantly garbed gentleman, every bit as tall as Lord Burke, climbing the stairs to the stage and waving at them. Valentina thought him most handsome. His tawny-gold hair reminded her of dark honey. Recognition dawned, and Padraic rose to return the greeting. The two men coming together reminded Valentina of day and night, their coloring was so different.

Taking the seat next to Lady Barrows, the gentleman caught her hand and placed a fervent kiss on it. Misty gray eyes were set above a long, elegant nose beneath which was a beautifully barbered tawny-gold mustache. The stranger stared directly at her, frankly admiring. “Thomas Ashburne, Earl of Kempe, madam, at your service. Tell me that you are not his wife and I shall die a happy man!”

A small smile touched Valentina’s mouth. She was feeling a definite stirring of interest. Nonetheless, her voice was cool as she replied, “You are most outrageous, sirrah!”

“But are you his wife, divinity?”

“I am his cousin.”

“Then my prayers are answered, madam.” He turned to Padraic. “Will you not introduce us, my friend?”

“Tom, behave yourself! This is my cousin, Lady Barrows. She is newly widowed and just up from the country for the very first time in her life. She begins her service to the queen tomorrow. I have made it my personal mission to watch over her.”

“I think that rather selfish of you, Padraic. I should very much enjoy watching over Lady Barrows myself.” He took up Valentina’s hand again and, looking deeply into her eyes, said, “May I also offer my services, madam, as your knight?”

“For God’s sake, Tom, are you never going to grow up?” Lord Burke grumbled.

Ignoring him, the earl said, “Well, madam?”

“She doesn’t want you hanging about and irritating the queen just as she is about to begin her service,” Padraic said.

“I suppose a lady can never have too many charming gentlemen looking after her,” replied Valentina with a flirtatious smile. Padraic’s possessive remark had rankled her, and now he was attempting to drive off this attractive man when she was absolutely certain that she did not want the Earl of Kempe driven off. “May I have my hand back, my lord?” she asked.

“Only if you insist,” he returned with an infectious grin.

Valentina twinkled at him. She could not remember ever flirting with a man. It was fun!

“The play is about to begin,” Padraic said pointedly.

Valentina saw that several players were now at center stage. “Lord Burke is correct. We should give the players our attention.”

“My voice will be silent then, divinity, but you cannot silence my thoughts or my heart,” responded the Earl of Kempe passionately.

“God’s foot! What rubbish!” groused Lord Burke, giving his friend a dark look.

Valentina giggled. She realized it was not the sophisticated thing to do, but she simply could not help it. Padraic was jealous,
really
jealous! No one had ever been jealous of her before. She had never had two gentlemen vying for her attention. “I do not think it rubbish at all,” she said demurely. “I think it rather charming of you, my lord earl.” She favored him with another smile.

Tom Ashburne grinned back, well pleased with himself. Lord Burke sent them both withering looks before turning his attention to the play.

As the play unfolded, both men thought about Valentina. The Earl of Kempe considered how marvelous it would be to make love to her, to kiss that outrageous little heart at the corner of her mouth. Padraic Burke’s thoughts were more serious. He had finally faced his love for Valentina, and he had no intention of letting another man near her. You are mine, hinny love, whether you know it or not, he told her silently. You are mine alone!

Chapter 3

M
ary Fitton had been put into the care of Lady Hawkins. There, she miscarried of a son. Rash and reckless Mary, who had put on a man’s great cape and strode boldly through the court to meet with her lover. Mary was in deepest disgrace. Like pretty little Elizabeth Vernon, she had taken a chance, but unlike Elizabeth, she had gambled and lost. The Earl of Southampton had married his lover, Mistress Vernon. The Earl of Pembroke would not. This sudden harsh reality had frightened the five remaining maids of honor into unusually circumspect behavior. They huddled about the fireplace in the Maidens’ Chamber, awaiting the arrival of both the girl chosen to take Mary’s place and the new mistress of the maids. Their nervousness increased when Lady Scrope entered the room, another woman accompanying her. Who was she?

“Good morning, young ladies,” Lady Scrope called to them.

The five young girls rose and curtsied to the two women. Each surreptitiously studied the stranger. She was young, but certainly not as young as they were. Their ages ranged from thirteen to seventeen. Mary Fitton had been close to nineteen, the eldest of them all, and this stranger didn’t look much older than Mary.

“This is Lady Barrows, the new mistress of the maids,” Lady Scrope told them. “Please come forward one at a time and tell her your name and age.”

The five glanced quickly at one another, then the eldest one detached herself from the group and came forward.

“I am Margaret Dudley, and I am seventeen, madam.” She curtsied to Valentina, who smiled and nodded. “This is my cousin, Elizabeth Stanley,” she said, beckoning the littlest of the girls forward.

“How old are you, Elizabeth Stanley?” Valentina said gently.

“Thirteen, madam” was the piping reply. The child bobbed a curtsy.

The tallest of the girls, a proud-looking blonde whose beauty was marred by a too-long nose, moved into position before Lady Barrows.

“I am Lady Honoria de Bohun,” she said, and stepped back.

“You have not curtsied to Lady Barrows, Honoria,” admonished Lady Scrope.

“Surely, madam, you do not expect me to do so,” the girl said icily. “Certainly a de Bohun takes precedence over someone named Barrows.”

“Not knowing Lady Barrows’s full pedigree, Honoria de Bohun, I could not say, but her position as mistress of the maids gives her preeminence over you, and unless you make your curtsy, I shall inform the queen of your disobedience. The events of this week have not left Her Majesty with much patience for any of you. She will not hesitate to dismiss you, Honoria de Bohun, for Elizabeth Tudor takes precedence over us all. Do you understand me, child? I would also mention that you have forgotten to tell us your age.”

“I am sixteen” was the surly reply. Honoria de Bohun curtsied to Valentina with barely concealed irritation.

“I am Eleanora Clifford, madam,” said a rosy-cheeked, dark-haired girl, “and I also am sixteen.” She flashed Valentina a merry smile as she accomplished her curtsy.

The last of the maids came forward and curtsied prettily. “My name is Penelope Howard,” she said, “and I am fourteen.”

“I am pleased to meet you all,” said Valentina. “My younger cousin, Lady Gabrielle Edwardes, a daughter of the Earl of Alcester, will be joining you in a few days. I hope that will satisfy your curiosity over the new maid of honor, as I am certain it has been burning brightly.”

All of the girls except Honoria giggled, and Lady Scrope said, “Take the afternoon to get to know these hoydens, Lady Barrows. The queen will not need them until this evening, when she is hosting a fête for an ambassador from one or another of those little German states.”

“Perhaps the maidens will show me about Whitehall so that I may more quickly get my bearings,” said Valentina.

“An excellent idea,” Lady Scrope enthused. “I will leave you in their care, Lady Barrows, and good fortune with them. They have driven many a good woman to near madness.” So saying, Lady Scrope departed.

A small smile touched Valentina’s lips as she settled herself in a chair by the fire. Looking at the five young girls with her unusual amethyst-colored eyes, she said, “Are you really as dreadful as everyone has warned me, or is it perhaps that serving an elderly queen is simply not very exciting? Many of our mothers served the queen in their youth, and they consider it an important part of our social obligation, do they not?”

“Did your mama serve the queen?” asked little Beth Stanley.

“Aye,” said Valentina, “she did. The queen called my mother her ‘country mouse’ as she was very shy and quiet. Because her family was not a great one, no one realized that she was an heiress. This coupled with the fact that she was no beauty, caused people to ignore her.”

“Oh, how dreadful for her!” sympathized Penelope Howard.

“Not really,” explained Valentina. “My mother, like the queen, is an intelligent woman. She had lived her entire life in the country—as I have. She was not used to court ways, and the one thing she feared was to be liked for her possessions and not her true self. She fell in love with my father on her first day at court, although he did not notice her at all, being far too busy seducing all the beauties. My father was called ‘The Handsomest Man at Court.’ ” “Ooh!” breathed little Beth, her blue eyes round. “I have heard about him! He is Irish, is he not? All of the ladies adored him, but did he not cause a dreadful scandal of some sort?”

Now all of the maids of honor, including Honoria de Bohun, were gathered around Valentina, sitting on the rug before the blazing fire and looking up at her eagerly. The court thrived on gossip, even ancient gossip.

“Oh, indeed he did,” replied Valentina, her eyes twinkling. “What have you been told about it?”

“My mama and aunts would always stop talking about him when I got too close,” admitted the youngest maid of honor.

“Perhaps then,” considered Valentina, “I should not speak of it.”

“Oh, no! No! Do tell! Do!” cried the maids of honor.

Valentina laughed. “Well,” she said, “I suppose if you are old enough to be maids of honor, you are old enough to hear about my father. He is indeed Irish born. His name was Conn O’Malley, and his sister, my aunt Skye, also served the queen. It was my aunt who introduced my papa into court. He charmed Her Majesty, and the queen gave him a place in her Gentlemen Pensioners. For several years he remained with the court until he made the mistake of seducing the wife of the ambassador from San Lorenzo, and being caught. If that were not bad enough, a Lady Holden and her twin daughters all claimed that Papa had seduced them as well! Of course, Lord Holden was fit to be tied.

“Under the circumstances, it became necessary for the queen to send my father from court, but old Lord Burghley felt that Papa should also be wed in order to settle him down. The question was, to whom should they marry him? He was Irish, and did not have a great name. On the other hand, he was handsome, charming, and wealthy due to his involvement with the O’Malley-Small trading company.