I was surprised that news had traveled this far, but then not surprised when I considered how close we lived to the Seymours’ estate, Wulf Hall. “I do think he cares deeply for my lady, but she is in all manner discreet and honoring to His Majesty.” I found, and noted, my ire rising in defense of Kate toward my own mother, an unexpected reversal of loyalties.
“I’m certain that she is,” my mother said, but her tone of voice did not seem bent toward charity. “Sir Matthias and Lady Hurworth have invited us to celebrate the New Year with them. I am sure young Matthias welcomes your return visit. And you must welcome the opportunity to see him?”
Yes. Now that I was home, I had to face the question of Matthias; I could no longer avoid the topic by remaining at court. I could not tell if my mother had spoken a question or a command. “I shall look forward to the event.” I did not lie and say, “With pleasure.”
She bid me good evening. My mother was right. I had indeed matured into a woman, completely, with my eyes wide open, though certainly not by the means I would have chosen.
Within a few minutes, Hugh returned and took our mother’s place by the fire in the large, paneled hall. “I must know. Are there jousts every day? Cockfights? All manner of food and wine and beautiful women much in need of a knight’s son from Marlborough? Intrigues?”
I smiled at his enthusiasm and naivety, pleasures I had been allowed till they had been sanded away by the court slowly, day by day, year by year, till ultimately nearly all was stolen from me. My mother had noticed, but had not taken me in her arms, crooned over me, or promised to set things aright. She could not, of course. But I yearned for her to have tried.
“Yes, there are often jousts, and wrestling matches, and many beautiful women, though none have spoken to me directly of a pressing need for a knight’s son from Marlborough. And there are intrigues, of course. But most of them are of a religious nature.”
“That sounds dull.” He looked crushed, of course.
“As dull as an axe blade.” I leaned over and took his hand. “’Tis good to be home, Hugh. In many ways, the court is like the story of Saint George, with the dragon always looking for a new and beautiful maiden who will be sacrificed to him. All seek to placate him but he is never satisfied.”
Hugh leaned closer. “Do you mean the king?”
I shrugged, aware of Kate’s warning to be discreet, and knowing of Hugh’s youthful lack of discretion. “’Tis hard to tell who the dragons be, and who be the knights.”
“I should know immediately,” he said with bravado.
“I am certain that you would,” I jested. “And now, dear brother, I am tired from my long journey and must retire for the eve.”
I had worried that, once home, my visions would return to torment my sleep but blessedly, they did not, though I woke often every night with terror come upon me after seeing John Temple’s face or feeling his spent breath upon my face in my mind’s eye, or just the rustle of a noise that I feared was someone breaching my door. After some weeks resting, riding, and reading from my father’s library near a warm fire, the terrors waned. I was therefore recovered in body, but not in spirit, by the New Year.
Lady Hurworth had invited us to a large New Year’s celebration she held at Hungerford House, replete with fools, jesters, and a play. Her tables, as always, were laden with delicacies. I indulged myself lightly, though stayed myself from the strawberries, which I had not seen in our town before.
“This is a lovely evening and celebration,” I commented to her as we waited whilst the players assembled themselves afore the second act. “I am glad to be home again.”
She smiled at me, though not warmly. “’Tis not at the level you are used to at court, I am sure, but we do our best.” I dipped my head and took my leave, and as I did Matthias came alongside me and took my arm.
“Let us sit for a while,” he pleaded. “I’ve had naught but a few hours of your time since you’ve returned from court.”
I reluctantly agreed and he drew me to a softly covered bench at the edge of the large room. The fireplaces, taller than a man and twice as wide, kept the winter out of the room and the marble held their heat.
“Are you well pleased to be home?” he asked. He looked little different from when I’d left. I noticed that his dance was more waddle than rhythm and yet his constancy in his affection to me was endearing, as a brother’s might be, but I certainly felt no passion toward him, nor a desire to remain with him for life.
“I am. Court is a hive and ’tis sweet to have quiet and to repose.”
“I should rather hope that you’d be ready to remain home in repose,” he replied. “I know that my father desires to speak to your mother about … my future, your future. We have not spoken of this together afore, but I would do so now. Do you wish to remain here, which I think best, with your family? And with me? Or will you be returning to court?”
I had not expected him to speak to me so directly, and yet I’d been at court for more than two years so ’twas not surprising that he’d like to settle his plans.
“I had not given it much thought,” I answered. I would not hurt him. And yet I had little choice in the matter. Whom I would marry was up to my mother, and, to some lesser extent, my younger brother. “I have only just returned.”
“You’ve been back for more than a month,” he said, his tone nasal and high. “My younger brother will like as not be married within six months’ time and will shortly thereafter get him a son. I shan’t like to follow where I would better lead.”
“Whom shall he marry?” I turned the subject to give myself time to think my way. Although I was mildly repelled by the thought of a plodding, dull life with Matthias, I had no desire to deceive him; in fact, I would not do so. And, yet, if I agreed to marry him understanding I likely would not bear children, that’s certainly what I’d be doing. But ’twas not in my power to tell him I would or would not marry him; that rested with my mother.
“She’s the young daughter of a knight; they come from York. She’s lovely, and brings a fine dowry. Though not as fine as yours.” He belched and though he covered his mouth with his hand a hammy vapor escaped. “Some women with large dowries desire a title in exchange,” he continued. It clearly troubled him.
“I am not one of those women, but I cannot speak for what my mother desires,” I said. “Though she contented herself well with a gentry man of means.”
“And that I am,” Matthias said. “Till your brother comes of age, my father and I will take care of all the details. Sir Thomas Seymour is having one of his associates deliver another shipment from the East next week and I, not my father, shall meet him, take ownership of the goods, and disburse the funds accordingly.”
The languor that the fire and good food had blanketed me with was suddenly stripped away and the immediate problem at hand, how to be honest with Matthias whilst protecting myself and my reputation, dissipated.
“What is the name of this associate?” I asked.
Matthias looked startled. “Sir James Hart. Do you know of him?”
I steadied my breath. “Indeed I do.” I caught his querying look and sought to soothe it. “From court, of course, as I first came at the request of Sir Thomas. And now your mother’s players are back. We should honor them with our attention.”
I turned toward the play, but I did not stay my mind upon their lines, resting instead upon the fact that Jamie would be in Marlborough within the week.
He arrived eight days later. Lucy was in my chamber, sorting through my jewelry, both paste and proud, and then rubbing them with silk, when she glanced out the window.
“Mistress! He’s here. Tha one who brought you tha strawberries.”
“Thank you, Lucy.”