The three women descended into the hallway below, where Lord Cambridge was now impatiently awaiting them. He nodded with approval, then said, “Cousin, you must take my barge with Philippa and Lucy. It is larger and will accommodate you better. I will follow in your little vessel. Come. We will be late if we do not hurry.”
Philippa was almost sick with her excitement as they entered the spacious barge and began their journey down-river to Westminster Palace. The river traffic had been interesting from the gardens of her uncle Tom’s house, but out upon the water it was even more exciting and fascinating. She didn’t know where to look next, and she was joined in her enthusiasm by Lucy.
Rosamund pointed out interesting sights as they traveled, but the tide was with them this morning, and they were quickly at the Westminster quay. A manservant helped the women from their vessel onto the stone dock. Lord Cambridge was right behind them.
“Philippa,” he said, “there was something I meant to give you back at the house.” He opened his hand to reveal several small rings. “There is a pearl, an emerald, a fine green agate, and an amethyst to match your gown. Put them on, my child. All the fashionable court ladies wear a multitude of rings.”
With a delighted smile, Philippa took the rings offered and put them on her hands, holding them out to admire. “Thank you so much, uncle,” she said to him, kissing his cheek. “Do you think I should wear two on each hand?”
“I think three on your right hand-the pearl, the emerald, and the agate-and on your left hand wear the amethyst to display it to its best advantage. Put the pearl between the two green stones, my child,” he advised her.
They entered the palace, going to the Great Hall where the court would now be assembled to watch the king and the queen break their fast after the first mass of the day. As they walked, they were greeted, bowed to, and nodded to by many of the courtiers. The lady of Friarsgate was back in favor with the queen, and the child with her was her heiress. Fathers with second sons eyed Philippa and nodded. The girl looked strong of limb and with all her wits. She would, it was rumored, not only inherit from her mother, but from her uncle, as well. The Boltons were not a particularly noble family, but they were landed gentry with a goodly estate. And the queen favored them.
“Why do they all stare at me, mama?” Philippa asked, noticing the interest in her small person.
“You are my heiress,” her mother said softly. “You are already being appraised as a marriage possibility.”
“I know I must marry well one day,” Philippa noted, “but I would hope to love my husband as you and my father loved each other. I know I shall not find the kind of love you found with Lord Leslie, but I remember my father well. He had a great care and respect of you, mama.”
“Aye, he did,” Rosamund said, remembering Owein Meredith, her third husband and the father of her three daughters and deceased son. He had been a good man, and he had loved her as much as he was capable of it. Until they had been matched, Owein had spent all of his life but six years in the service of the Tudors. “I shall not give you to just anyone, Philippa. I will have to be satisfied that the man you wed does indeed care for you. Do not fear, my daughter. You and your sisters will go to good husbands. I promise.”
They were now in the Great Hall. About them the courtiers milled, waiting. Rosamund moved through the crowd until they were before the high board. There she stopped, waiting for the king and queen to enter the hall. The trumpets sounded a flourish. The people in the hall drew back, opening an aisle down which Great Harry and his queen traveled, smiling and nodding to those in the hall, their attendants following them.
Seeing Rosamund and her daughter, the queen stopped. “This is Philippa, isn’t it?” she said with a warm smile. “Welcome to our court, my dear child.”
Philippa curtsied deeply, replying a bit breathlessly, “Thank you, your highness.”
“Henry, here is the lady of Friarsgate, and she has brought her child to greet us,” the queen said softly to her husband.
Henry Tudor took Rosamund’s hand in his and kissed it. “We are happy to greet you again, madame, and your child.” Then he turned his attention to Philippa, and he was all charm, smiling down from his great height at the little girl. “Why, poppet, you quite resemble your mama. I see nothing of Owein Meredith in you, but for your gentle manner. You are most welcome to our court, Philippa Meredith. Your sire was a fine man and a good servant to the House of Tudor. I believe he would be proud to have such a beautiful little daughter. I know I would be.”
“We all pray for your majesty’s wish to be fulfilled,” Philippa said tactfully.
The king lifted the little girl up so they were face-to-face, and then he kissed her cheek. “Thank you, my child,” he said as he set her down, and then he moved on.
Philippa almost swooned with her excitement. “He kissed me, mama!” she trilled. “The king kissed my cheek!”
“The king can be kind, Philippa, and he likes children. You said the right thing to him, and he will remember it. You have his favor, and that is important.”
“Wait until I tell Banon and Bessie that the king kissed me,” Philippa said. “They will be so jealous. They were jealous when you decided to take me to court, mama.”
“Of course they were,” Lord Cambridge chuckled. “All little girls want to come to court. It is every girl’s dream, Philippa. But you must not boast and brag when we return to Friarsgate.”
“But I can tell them that the king kissed me, can’t I, Uncle Tom?”
“Of course, my child,” he told her. Then he turned to Rosamund. “My friend Lord Cranston has a young son from a second marriage who is two years older than Philippa. I see him across the hall, and I would like to introduce Philippa to him.”
“She is too young for a match, Tom,” Rosamund said.
“Of course she is,” he agreed. “But Cranston’s family is very well off, and it cannot hurt for Philippa to meet them. When she is older and ready to wed, can she not love a rich man’s son as well as a poor man’s son?” he teased her.
Rosamund laughed, but then she grew serious. “I hope to obtain a title for her,” she said. “There must be some poor earl whose heir could be matched with Philippa, provided they were suited to each other.”
“Ah, cousin, you are more ambitious than I thought. I am not unpleased. But let me introduce Philippa to Lord Cranston, anyway. He may be of help to us one way or another,” Lord Cambridge said. “And I do know an earl with a son who might do.”
“My lady?” A young page stood at her side.
“Yes?” Rosamund replied. The boy wore the king’s livery.
“His majesty would see you immediately. I will escort you,” the page responded.
“And I will take Philippa off to be introduced about,” Tom said. “Keep your temper in check, dear girl. Philippa, my angel, walk with your uncle. I shall be the envy of every man here today.”
Philippa giggled and moved off with her uncle as Rosamund turned and followed the boy in the Tudor livery from the Great Hall.
Chapter 17
The little page led her from the Great Hall down one long corridor and into a narrower, dimmer one. Finally he stopped before a paneled door, and opening it, ushered her inside. “I will wait outside to escort you back,” he said politely, closing the door behind him.