Philippa (25 page)

“There will be room enough?”

“Aye, and knowing how you love your food, sister, I am happy to tell you that Tom Bolton’s cook is a marvel. He travels with his master from Cumbria to London to the Greenwich house,” the earl said.

“The more I learn of this girl’s background the more I am pleased, Crispin. Will her parents be here for the marriage celebration? I am most anxious to meet them.”

“Sir Owein is long dead, I fear, and Philippa’s mother has just recently been delivered of twin sons, Marjorie. But one of her sisters is here at court in service to the queen as well. She will shortly wed a Neville. She is Lord Cambridge’s heiress.”

“Perhaps this is not a bad match after all, Crispin,” his sister opined. “The St. Claire family is an old one, but we have never been particularly distinguished in the history of our country. We are in fact rather dull. We have always obeyed the law of the land, and I believe the only time we took a stand against a ruling monarch was with the other barons against King John. We remained clear of the Lancaster/York squabbles, and supported the Tudors when they took the throne.”

“All of which has allowed us to survive as a family,” he said quietly. “And while we are not rich, neither are we poor.”

“I should have trusted to your judgment, Crispin,” Lady Marjorie Brent said, “but since I am now here I shall make the best of it.”

“The queen has been generous to Philippa, allowing her more time away from her duties recently. You will pay your respects this evening, and meet Philippa then,” he told his sister. “And then I shall bring you back to Bolton House. Lord Cambridge may come to court today, or not.”

Thomas Bolton did come to court that day. He had departed his house and taken the smaller of his barges, the one he had had built for Rosamund long ago, into London, where he had seen his goldsmith first, and then visited his tailor and the tailor’s wife, who was a seamstress of extraordinary talent. It was the tailor’s wife who would be sewing the gowns for Philippa’s betrothal and wedding day, as well as Banon’s new gown. He was then rowed to the palace, and for some reason he did not dismiss the smaller barge and send it home.

In the queen’s antechamber he found the earl of Witton with an older woman, and was introduced. “Madame,” he told Lady Marjorie, “I knew your husband once. I was devastated when he wed, but seeing you I can understand his eagerness to leave the court behind.” He kissed Lady Marjorie’s hand while smiling his most endearing smile.

She was instantly charmed with him. “You are too kind, my lord,” she gushed.

He smiled at her again. “Have you met my cousin Philippa Meredith yet, madame?” he asked her, still holding her hand.

“I am to shortly,” she told him, smiling back, and more than well aware that he had not yet released her hand. What a delightful man he was, she thought.

“She is a dear girl, madame, and if I may be permitted to say it, she will make your brother a fine countess,” he murmured.

“Everything Crispin has told me reassures me,” Lady Marjorie said.

The door to the queen’s privy chamber opened. Philippa hurried out and over to them. “Is everything alright?” she asked. “One of the pages said you needed to see me, my lord,” she addressed the earl.

“This is my sister, Lady Marjorie Brent,” the earl of Witton said. “She has surprised me by coming up from Devon, where she lives. She had heard of our betrothal through a friend just returned from court.”

“Had you not written to your sisters, my lord? That is most bad of you, and our wedding to be celebrated so soon,” Philippa gently scolded him, curtseying.

“Oh, dear Philippa, that is so typical of my brother, but I can see that you have manners,” Lady Marjorie said. She embraced the girl warmly. “May I welcome you to our family.”

“I thank you, madame,” Philippa replied. “I regret that I have so little time to give you, but alas, my duties must come first.”

“My dear Philippa, I completely understand,” Lady Marjorie said.

“Then you must excuse me,” Philippa replied, curtseying once again, and turning away to hurry back to the queen.

“Wait,” Tom Bolton said to the girl, who turned questioningly. “You must come home tomorrow afternoon, for the seamstress will be there to begin your two gowns. Bring Banon with you, darling girl.”

Philippa nodded, and then was gone.

“You will stay with me, of course,” Lord Cambridge said to Lady Marjorie.

“How kind you are,” she replied, not mentioning that her brother had already asked her, but then it was not his house, was it?

“I cannot imagine being anything but kind to you,” Lord Cambridge murmured, and Lady Marjorie tittered, well pleased. “If your business here is finished, dear lady, then perhaps you will accompany me back to Bolton House in my barge. Crispin, dearest boy, the small barge will be here for you.” He took Lady Marjorie’s arm and led her off.

Crispin St. Claire, watching them go, was hard-pressed not to laugh. He was not certain exactly what kind of man Thomas Bolton was, although he had his suspicions, but Lord Cambridge had obviously sized up his sister, and knew just how to handle her. The earl wondered if his host really knew his brother-in-law. He decided he would not ask. The answer might prove too disconcerting.

T
he twenty-eighth of April dawned wet. The court was preparing to leave for Greenwich on the twenty-ninth. The betrothal ceremony would be held at Bolton House, and the papers signed there. The great hall had been decorated with flowering branches. A small feast would be held following the formalities, although neither the king nor the queen would stay for the festivities. They would drink a toast to the couple and then return to Richmond.

Philippa had been sent home to Lord Cambridge’s house the previous evening so she might sleep in her own bed. The queen had learned from the mistress of the maids that she was not resting well. Bridal nerves, both women had concurred. But she had slept no better at Bolton House. Her soon-to-be sisters-in-law could not, it seemed, stop chattering, and she found them irritating. Both Lady Marjorie Brent and Lady Susanna Carlton adored their younger brother, and insisted on imparting to Philippa what they considered good advice on the care and feeding of Crispin St. Claire. Philippa felt near to screaming, and seeing it, Banon took charge.

She arose from the high board, smiling as she said, “Philippa must really go to bed now and get her rest, my ladies. We share a bed at court, and I can tell you that she has hardly slept at all these past few weeks with all her duties. I do not know why the spring should seem more busy than the winter, but it does. You will excuse us, please.” And she took her older sister’s hand in a firm grasp, leading her from the hall.

“What a charming girl,” they heard Lady Susanna say, and they giggled as they hurried up the staircase, sharing a conspiratorial glance as they went.

“Thank you!” Philippa said to Banon as they reached her bedchamber. “I do not know why, sister, but I find Crispin’s sisters annoying. And they are both really good ladies.” She sighed. “I don’t know what is the matter with me lately.” She opened the door to the chamber, and they entered together.

“You are being married in two days,” Banon replied in practical tones. “You are merely suffering an attack of nerves. I would be nervous too. Why, you hardly know the man, and I have watched you go out of your way to avoid him at court these past weeks. I do not believe you have been alone with him once. The papers are not yet signed, Philippa. You do not have to marry him if you do not want to marry him. You yet have the opportunity to cry off.”

Philippa shook her head. “No. It is an incredible match for me, and an honor for the family that I enter the ranks of the nobility. And if I cried off now you could not be wed in the autumn to your handsome Neville. Do you love him, Banon?”

“I think so,” Banon replied. “I am not certain really what love is, or is supposed to feel like, sister. But I like being with him. I like the thought of having his children. I suppose I shall ask mama about love when I see her in a few weeks.”

Philippa looked agitated, but then she said, “Have you kissed many times? Has he touched your breasts?”

Banon was about to protest so intimate a question, but then she realized that her older sister was not asking for prurient reasons. For some reason she needed to know. “Aye, we have kissed a great deal,” she said. “Robert loves to kiss me, and I must admit to enjoying his kisses. And aye, he has caressed my breasts, and I have caressed him. It gives us pleasure, Philippa. Does it not give you pleasure to kiss and caress with the earl?”

“We have kissed but a few times, and I have resisted his caresses,” Philippa admitted. She was very pale. “I did not want him to think me a bawd, behaving as so many of the young girls and women of the court do. And now I am terrified, for I must bed a stranger in two nights’ time. I do not want to cry off. Yet I am afraid, Banie.”

Banon Meredith shook her head. “Philippa, you may be the oldest of us, and you may know how to do your duty, but even Bessie has more sense than you would appear to have. I have watched you avoid the earl these past few weeks, and I will wager he has not once found you alone. What were you thinking, sister? This man is to be your husband. You had precious little time in which to get to know him, and you wasted it. Crispin does not seem a monster to me. Indeed he appears to be a kind man. I can offer you no advice, Philippa, but to trust to his kindness.”

“I don’t know what I am supposed to do!” Philippa wailed.

“Well, neither do I,” Banon said. “How could I?” Then she grinned. “Ask Lucy. She will have some knowledge, you may be certain.”

“Lucy?” Philippa was genuinely surprised. Her tiring woman seemed always to be there for her. How could she know of men and women?

“The serving women at court always know such things. They are freer with their favors than we should be,” Banon explained. “Lucy,” she called, and the young woman came into the bedchamber from the wardrobe where she had been seeing to her mistress’s gown for the morrow.

“Yes, Mistress Banon?”

“My sister needs knowledge of what transpires between a man and a woman. Since mama isn’t here, you must tell her what you know.” Banon’s blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“And what makes you think I would know such a thing?” Lucy demanded, her hands on her broad hips.

“Oh, you know,” Banon replied. “I’ve seen you with that manservant at court. Will you tell me that you were simply meeting to discuss the weather and the latest fashions?” She giggled.

“Oh, you’re a bad ’un!” Lucy scolded her. “Well, I’ll tell my mistress what she needs to know, as her own mother can’t do it for her, but you’ll have to go to your own bedchamber, Mistress Clever, for you ain’t being married in two days’ time, and you don’t need to know until you are wed, and your mam will tell you what you must know then. Shoo now!” And she pushed Banon from Philippa’s chamber. Then she turned back to her mistress. “Let’s get you ready for your bed, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

Philippa nodded. “Will there be time for a bath in the morning?”

“Aye,” Lucy said. “We must arise early, for the king will be very punctual in his coming as his days are always busy.” She unlaced her mistress’s bodice and unfastened the tabs holding it to her skirts. She untied the ribbons holding her petticoats up.

Philippa stepped from the pile of velvet and silk while Lucy put the bodice away. She sat down, and Lucy took her dainty slippers off and, rolling her stockings down, removed them. Standing, Philippa walked over to the oak table where a basin of scented water was set. She washed her face, hands, and neck, then scrubbed her teeth with a rough cloth. Clad only in her chemise she walked over to her bed and climbed into it.

Lucy had finished putting away Philippa’s garments and shoes. She had emptied the basin out the window. Now she came and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what you do know,” she said.

“I know nothing,” Philippa admitted. “Banon has scolded me for not kissing the earl more, or letting him touch my breasts. I think she is right.”

“Well,” Lucy said in practical tones, “that may be true, but you didn‘t, and now you are faced with bedding a husband, mistress. However, there is little to it if you wants my opinion. He’ll be happy you’re ignorant. Tells him he’s the only one to get between your legs. These lords like their wives to be pure when they first has ’em, or so I am told. You’re unique, mistress. Most of your companions has been naughty and lewd with the courtiers. But your reputation is chaste.”

“But what do I do?” Philippa asked her tiring woman.

“Why, you do nothing, mistress. He’ll lead the way, and that’s as it should be for a good lass like yourself. The way it’s done is that your husband will put you on your back and get between your legs. There’s a hole deep between your nether lips into which he’ll fit his manhood. He’ll move it back and forth for pleasure’s sake. There ain’t nothing more to it. When he’s emptied his love juices into you he’ll withdraw from you.”

“What about the kissing and the touching, Lucy?”

“Depends how eager he is for you. That will determine the kissing and the cuddling.” Lucy chuckled. “One thing you should know, though. There might be pain for a brief moment that first time. If your maidenhead is lodged tightly you will feel it more. And there will be a little bit of bleeding when he breaks your maidenhead. Don’t be frightened by it.”

Philippa nodded. It all sounded very pragmatic. Having heard Lucy’s explanations, she didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. “Thank you for telling me, Lucy. I did not want to appear the ninny before the earl.”

“Mistress Banon says you ain’t been sleeping well,” Lucy replied. “I expects this has been weighing on you.” She arose and tucked the coverlet about Philippa’s shoulders. “Now there’s nothing to be frightened of, mistress. You just close your eyes and go to sleep. You’re safe in your uncle Thomas’s house.”