Rosamund was thoughtful for a few moments, and then she said, “Aye, but I will tell her one of my daughters has taken ill and Maybel has sent for me. She will accept that, although I know she will be disappointed. She wanted me to remain with her until her child was born. She fears so that she cannot give her husband a son.”

“The king’s lang eey tells him the child will be a healthy lad. He frets that he will not live to see the boy grown,” the earl noted.

“Then I need not feel so guilty about my wee lie,” Rosamund said.

“And your cousin Lord Cambridge? A most amusing fellow, but very astute beneath his droll wit, I think,” Patrick said.

“Tom is clever, but I will have to tell him the entire truth of the matter. He is the best friend I have ever had, and no one, not even my husbands, have been as good to me as Thomas Bolton has. Frankly, he will be very disappointed not to be invited along with us,” Rosamund chuckled. “However, I will need him to return to Friarsgate to explain to my uncles and to Maybel where I have gone and why. I will need him there to watch over my lasses and wield my authority in my absence. My uncle Henry may still have hopes of gaining Friarsgate through one of his sons. Edmund could not prevent his mischief, but my darling Lord Cambridge certainly can. I need not fear to return home eventually to discover my Philippa wed to one of my wretched cousins, as long as Tom is there to watch over her.” She leaned forward and gave her lover a quick kiss. “I shall feel very guilty about leaving Tom behind. He is a most amusing traveling companion.”

“Yet I prefer that our idyll be more private than familial,” the earl said.

“Will Glenkirk be all right while you are gone so far? Will you tell your son?”

“Adam is a man grown. He is a little bit older than you are, my darling love. He has a sound head on his shoulders, and as Glenkirk will one day be his, it is past time he handled its responsibilities on his own.” He drew her closer into his embrace, his lips brushing the top of her head.

“Is he a married man?” Rosamund asked.

“Aye, though why he wed with Anne MacDonald I will never know. They met at the Highland games one summer. She was young and pretty. She knew he was an earl’s heir, and he was vulnerable to her flattery. Adam is much like his mother, though he never knew my sweet Agnes. He is kind and gentle. His saving grace is that he has a Leslie’s head for common sense. Nonetheless, he is not at all like me. He had no lasses mooning after him, and so Anne easily captured his innocent heart. The family was a good one. I had no cause to deny the match. So they wed. Only afterwards he discovered he had married a shrew. She fears me, however, and so my son’s life has not been intolerable. Oddly, I sometimes feel sorry for Anne, and God knows she has done her duty. I have two fine grandsons and a wee granddaughter born just last year and named after Adam’s mam, the sweet Agnes. She’s a bonnie little lass, not in the least like her mother. Anne is content letting her daughter be looked after by her nursemaid. I expect my daughter-in-law will very much enjoy being in charge while I am away,” the earl finished with a small grin.

“Then neither of us need fear for our lands and our families while we are in San Lorenzo,” Rosamund said.

“We have earned this time together, sweetheart,” he answered her, and he enfolded her closely in his arms. “Let us sleep now. Tomorrow we must begin planning. We can take little with us, as once we reach France we must ride the rest of the way. A coach and all that goes with it would attract the interest of those who earn their livings selling information. A small party of horsemen will not. Do you mind riding so great a distance?”

“Nay,” she answered. “I think perhaps it would be best if I dressed in boy’s clothing, and Annie, too. It would be easier, and it would attract even less attention.”

He nodded. “Aye, lass, it would. Can you ride astride?”

“I certainly can!” she laughed. “Even in skirts, my lord. Do you think I shall make a pretty boy in trunk hose and doublet?”

He chuckled. “Aye. Perhaps too pretty. Now, go to sleep, Rosamund. The morning will come quickly enough, and you are expected at mass with the queen.”

She lay against his chest, the beat of his heart beneath her ear, the comforting rhythm of his breathing lulling her to slumber. When she finally awoke he was gone, and Annie was bustling about their chamber. It was still dark outside Rosamund saw, so she was not late. She yawned and stretched. “Good morrow, Annie,” she said.

“Good morning, my lady,” Annie replied. “The earl has gone already, and he says he will see you later. He also says you are to speak to me. Oh, my lady, I hope I have not displeased him, or you, again!” Annie’s face bore all the hall-marks of her distress.

“Nay, you have displeased neither of us.” Rosamund sat up in her bed. “Put a bit more wood on the fire, Annie, and bring me a basin to wash myself.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, shivering as she came from beneath the shelter of the coverlets and her feet touched the cold stone floor.

Annie handed her mistress the chamber pot, and Rosamund peed. Then she washed herself as thoroughly as she might using a flannel and the little basin. She longed for her daily bath, but the servants at Stirling grudged her even her weekly ablutions, grumbling as they brought up the water to fill her little oak tub. But they dared not deny her, for they knew the Englishwoman was the queen’s dear childhood friend.

“What will you wear today, my lady?” Annie asked.

“Give me the tawny orange velvet,” Rosamund said. “Tom always likes me in that gown, although I wonder if the gold embroidery isn’t perhaps too showy.”

“ ’Tis beautiful, my lady. I’ll fetch it from the trunk and see the wrinkles smoothed out.” She bustled about the room as Rosamund climbed back into the warm bed.

“I would speak with you privily, Annie,” Rosamund began. “I have never enjoyed having my life decided for me by others, and so I will share a confidence with you that you may choose what it is you will do. I am going away with Lord Leslie, Annie. I would like you to come with us. No one is to know. They are to believe that each of us has returned to our own homes. If you choose not to accompany me, I shall see you safely returned to Friarsgate with Lord Cambridge, and I shall not hold it against you. But however you decide, you can say nothing to anyone of what I have just told you. Do you understand, Annie? No one must know.”

Annie was more than surprised by her mistress’ speech. She drew a deep breath and asked, “Will we be going back to Friarsgate ever, my lady?” The velvet gown in her hands felt very heavy.

Rosamund laughed softly. “Annie,” she chided the servant, “you know I should not leave my girls. And Uncle Henry so close by?” She laughed again. “Why, all three should find themselves wed to my uncle’s odious sons if I were to desert them. And there is Friarsgate itself. I love it so! I gain my strength from Friarsgate. I must always eventually go home, Annie.”

Annie nodded slowly. “When would we come back?” she queried.

“I don’t know, but I suspect in a few months’ time. No more,” Rosamund responded. “We just want a little time together before we must part again.”

“Why don’t you just wed the earl?” Annie questioned her lady. “Begging your pardon, mistress. I do not mean to be forward, but I do not understand.”

“The Earl of Glenkirk can no more abandon his home than I could forsake Friarsgate, Annie. Were my lasses not so young I might consider a union with him, but they are too young for me to leave.”

Annie nodded again, understanding, but not quite understanding. She lay the orange tawny gown out on the chamber’s single chair. “Where would we go?”

“Across the sea,” Rosamund replied simply.

“Across the sea? I ain’t ever been on any boat, my lady!” Annie exclaimed.

“Neither have I,” Rosamund chuckled. “It will be quite an adventure for us.”

“And how long would we be at sea?” Annie asked nervously.

“A few days at the most,” Rosamund promised her.

“And we’ll come home after you have all this adventure out of yourself?” Annie pressed her mistress. “You swear on the Blessed Mother’s name?”

“I swear,” Rosamund said with utmost seriousness. “I expect we will be back by autumn at the latest, Annie. Probably sooner.”

Annie drew a long, deep breath. Then she said, “I’ll come, my lady. But what will Mistress Maybel and Master Edmund say? And who is to tell them?”

“Lord Cambridge will tell them, Annie,” Rosamund answered the girl.

“Have you told him?” Annie persisted as she unrolled two pairs of stockings.

“I shall tell him today, Annie. Now, remember, this is a great secret. I shall have to lie to the queen, I fear, for she would not understand my leaving her now. And it is not yet time for all the dissembling to begin. Put it from your mind now, and I shall tell you when you may recall it again,” Rosamund said. “Now, I would get dressed before I am late for the mass.”


***

Margaret of Scotland signaled to her friend to come and be by her side just as the mass was beginning. This was an honor, and Rosamund well knew it. For a moment she felt almost guilty at the deception she would play on her old friend. But then her eyes met those of the Earl of Glenkirk across the royal chapel, and her guilt vanished. When the morning services were over, the queen linked her arm in Rosamund’s, and they walked together towards the Great Hall where the morning meal would be laid out.

“What is this gossip I hear about you and Lord Leslie?” the queen asked bluntly.

“I do not know the gossip to which you refer, madame,” Rosamund answered formally, for they were in public.

“It is said that you have become lovers,” the queen replied. Then she lowered her voice. “Is it true, Rosamund? Have you? He is very handsome, even if he is old.”

“He is not that old, Meg,” Rosamund whispered, a twinkle in her amber eyes.

“Ohhh, then it is so!” the queen chortled. “What a naughty girl you have suddenly become, Rosamund.”

“I would not offend your highness,” Rosamund quickly said.

“Offend me? Nay, I envy you!” the queen answered. “Do you remember how my grandmother always said a woman married first, perhaps a second time for her family, but after that she should find her own happiness? Does Lord Leslie make you happy, Rosamund? I hope so! Have you ever had a lover before?”

The first lie, Rosamund thought to herself. “Nay, Meg,” she murmured softly. “Never before.” And in a sense it was the truth, for she had not really loved Margaret Tudor’s brother, England’s king. But she was surely in love with Patrick Leslie.

“ ’Tis rather sudden, isn’t it?” the queen pressed her friend further.

“I cannot explain it,” Rosamund said. “Our eyes met, and we both knew.”

The queen laughed softly. “You sound like my husband with his lang eey,” she said. Her hand went protectively to her belly. “I don’t want to be an empty vessel like my brother’s wife. Pray God and his Blessed Mother that this child is a strong son, Rosamund. Pray hard for me!”

“I do,” Rosamund said. “Every day, Meg.”

“Your highness.” The king’s page was before them. “His majesty would break his fast with you this morning,” the lad said. “I am here to escort you.”

The queen nodded, and Rosamund gracefully slid into the background, seeking either Glenkirk or her cousin Lord Cambridge. It was Lord Cambridge who found her first.

“My darling girl, you have set the court upon its ear, I fear. Is it true? Has Lord Leslie become your lover? I have never before heard such delicious tittle-tattle. The Scots court is far more fun than the English court, where poor Spanish Kate and her mate, our stodgy King Henry, hold sway. There everything is proper and ordered while the king casts his eye boldly about and then swives his little conquests in secrecy-no offense, my darling cousin.”

“None taken, dearest Tom,” Rosamund replied dryly.

“But in this delightful court,” Lord Cambridge continued, “people are not so damned au fait about their passions. I quite like it! Now come along, dear girl, and tell me absolutely everything!” He linked his velvet-clad arm in hers.

“I am hungry, Tom,” Rosamund protested. “We have only just celebrated the mass, and I have not eaten since last night.”

“We shall go to my house, and my cook will feed you,” he responded. “And that will allow us our privacy, cousin, for I do indeed mean to hear all.”

“You bought a house in Stirling Village!” Rosamund exclaimed.