Читать книгу Dragon's Court - Joanna Makepeace - Страница 8

Anne found Richard Allard in the stables early next morning examining his horse’s new shoe. She stopped abruptly as he swung round to face her.

“Good morning, Master Allard.” She sounded a trifle breathless as if she had been running. “I trust you slept well.”

He was dressed as he had been yesterday in leather jack, warm hose and riding boots. She glanced at him hastily. “Are you planning to leave us this morning?”

His grey eyes twinkled as he surveyed her. She was looking fresh and sparkling in a plain blue woollen gown, linen coif as yesterday, pattens for crossing the littered courtyard and warm cloak. She flushed under his scrutiny, as if realising she had been rude to question her father’s guest on the matter of his departure, and made to pass by him towards the back corner where the stable cat was energetically licking her kittens. He blocked her way.

“Are you anxious to see me go, Mistress Anne?”

The flush became darker and she stammered, “Of course not, sir. It was just that I saw you dressed for riding and thought….”

“No, your father offered me his hospitality freely and I told him I would most probably leave tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she said a little lamely. “He will be glad to have you stay longer and hear in more detail about your home and parents. Ned will be delighted. He longs to travel as you have done and will hang on your every word.”

“You do not find my conversation interesting?”

“Of course I do.” She looked flustered. “But it is unlikely that I will ever have the opportunity to travel.”

“You would like to do so?”

Her blue eyes grew dreamy. “I would like to see more of the world than Rushton, certainly, though,” she added hastily, “I love the manor dearly.”

“You would like to go to Court as your mother did?”

“Yes,” she said, then defensively, “I know my father would never wish to see either Ned or I in the service of the King but…”

“You think that foolish?”

“My parents are—they have had their chances,” she murmured, her cheeks burning. “It is only natural that I would wish to see London town, see the Queen and, yes, the King also.”

“And the severed heads on Tower Bridge,” he added drily and her blue eyes grew huge and concerned.

“I had not thought…”

“Mistress Anne, you must know it would be unwise, even dangerous, for your father to go near to Westminster considering his former loyalties.”

“But other men have…”

“Changed their coats? Yes, that is certainly so and to good advantage for many of them, but it is not your father’s way.” There was utter contempt in his voice and she stepped back apace as if she feared he might strike her.

“But all that is so long ago,” she protested. “I never knew King Richard and Ned and I have to suffer for something which took place when I was just a babe in arms.”

“But I did know the King,” he returned evenly, “and so you must excuse my own partiality.”

“You knew King Richard?” Her eyes were huge again now, rounding in wonder.

“Indeed I did, I served him as page and was honoured to do so.”

“You—liked him—in spite of what they say of him?”

“I do not know to whom you have been speaking, Mistress Anne, but no one who knew the King well in the old days, except the traitors who deserted him, would say much to his discredit, certainly not to those who served formerly in his household.”

“But they say,” her voice sank to a whisper, “that he murdered his nephews.”

“Have you made such an accusation to your father?”

Her face whitened. “Oh, no, I would not dare. You will not…”

“No, I will not tell him, Mistress Anne,” he returned grimly. “But do me the courtesy of never referring to such slanderous filth again.”

This time she did withdraw from the rank fury in his tone.

“I must go,” she said hurriedly.

“Why did you come?”

“I came to see the kittens.” She glanced beyond him into the darker recesses of the stables. “And see that the one which you rescued is—” She broke off abruptly and tilted her chin. “No, actually, I saw you come in here and wanted to see if you were going to leave.”

“Ah, then you are anxious to speed my departure?”

“Yes.” Her lips trembled a little. “I think your presence here is disturbing my father’s peace.”

“You fear I might lead him into treason?”

“I think you could do so.”

“I swear to you I will do nothing to endanger him, for all your sakes.”

She gave a little relieved swallow.

They were about to leave the stable together when they heard the sounds of approaching horses and Ned breezed in and grinned at sight of Richard Allard.

“I’m glad to see you, sir. I was wondering if you would like to take a ride with me. We could go over the desmesne lands and down to the Nene, even go as far as Fotheringhay.”

Richard nodded and held up his hand for a moment’s silence then said very quietly, “Who was riding in such haste into the courtyard?”

“I don’t know.” Ned started to answer quite loudly, then, seeing their guest’s expression, immediately lowered his voice. “I didn’t wait to see…probably some boring acquaintance of my father, but I…”

He moved towards the entrance to the stable as if to ascertain the identity of the new arrivals, for it was clear from the noise and the flurry of grooms from another stable that there were at least two men who were even now dismounting. Quickly Richard Allard moved to prevent him and, as Anne, too, hastened towards the entrance he hissed in her ear fiercely, “Please stay within the stable, both of you.”

Anne was outraged by his vehemence and the hard grip upon her arm which halted her in her tracks. How dared the man impose his will upon her and in her own stable! Ned, more amenable, merely opened his blue eyes, so like his sister’s, and raised fair eyebrows at their guest in bewilderment.

Shadowed by the stable doorway, Anne and Richard Allard were able to observe the new arrivals without being seen. Instinctively she knew Richard Allard would take steps to prevent her making any sound, even to putting his other hand across her mouth. Though she gave a little surprised hiss at the sight of her father’s visitors, she made no other comment. Ned was content to remain behind them until they were able to enlighten him.

The two men handed their sweating mounts into the care of the Jarvis grooms and moved towards the manor house entrance. Still Richard Allard kept his hold on Anne’s arm until they had disappeared into the hall, then he led her firmly back into the recesses of the stable and pulled neatly close the door. Ned blinked at him in the gloom.

“They are the King’s men,” Anne said wonderingly, “wearing the royal device of the portcullis.”

“Aye,” Richard Allard said grimly. “So I noticed, Mistress Anne. I’ll ask you to remain here for a while until we have some idea of the reason for their visit.”

Ned sank obediently down upon a bundle of hay. “You don’t fear harm to my father, sir? If so, surely…”

“He’s more likely to fear harm for himself,” Anne returned contemptuously. “Isn’t that so, sir? You do not wish either my brother or I to speak of your presence here at Rushton.”

“That is so, Mistress Anne,” he said suavely. To Ned he added, “It is unlikely these men intend to arrest your father. Had there been such an intent there would have been a larger escort. It would seem these two are messengers or, possibly, they have arrived to question him on some matter which has come to the notice of the King’s council. However,” he soothed, noting Ned’s rising alarm, “it cannot pose real danger otherwise he would be arrested and carted off to London without delay.”

Ned said shrewdly, “You think they are here to question him about you? If so, my father could unwittingly speak of your presence here, surely.”

Richard Allard shook his head decisively. “Your father would not be so unwise as to fall into that mistake. No, neither he nor your mother will mention my arrival yesterday.”

“Are you wanted by the King’s men?” Anne demanded bluntly.

“Not that I am aware of. It is just that I have learned to be cautious when calling on any man whose loyalty to King Henry is held in doubt, with good reason or not, by the King’s officials. I would never compromise them. So, if you please, we will wait until they take their departure. I cannot think that will be long delayed. I heard one give instructions to the groom to rub down and water their mounts but have them in readiness to depart again within the hour.”

Sulkily Anne sank down beside her brother while Richard Allard took up a watchful position near the partially opened stable door.

Ned was still looking puzzled. He said softly, “You don’t fear that Master Allard and Father are engaged in anything…”

“Treasonable? I should think that very possible,” Anne replied coolly, “and I blame Father for it. He should have more consideration for Mother.”

“Mother is of father’s persuasion,” Ned said equably, “and when I am of age…”

“You will use more circumspection, I hope,” Anne said cuttingly.

Richard Allard moved away from the door.

“They appear to be leaving already.”

Anne could hear the men talking, but not their words. They did not sound in the least angry or put out, however, so she guessed they had been courteously received at the manor house. She waited impatiently until their horses were led out, the men mounted and she heard the clatter of their horses’ hooves upon the cobbles of the courtyard again.

“Well, Master Allard,” she snapped. “I trust we can now be released from our imprisonment.”

Ned laughed outright and waited until Richard Allard smilingly nodded his permission.

“Oh, come, Anne,” he reproved his sister. “Master Allard was only ensuring that neither of us said anything untoward in the presence of those King’s men. After all, that could have endangered Father.”

Anne knew he was right, but she only gave an angry shrug as Richard Allard opened the stable door now for them all to pass out.

Her relief at the men’s departure was short lived, however, when, entering the hall, she perceived her father was in one of his rare, uncontrollable furies. He was waving a parchment at her mother who was seated patiently by the hearth. His other hand pounded the trestle near to him.

“I will not do it,” Sir Guy shouted. “I cannot be forced to do it. I’ll not place Anne in a humiliating position. I’ll defy that usurper. He has no right…”

Lady Jarvis cautioned her husband to be circumspect when she saw Anne start anxiously at the sound of her name uttered with such an explosion of fury.

“Anne,” she said quietly, “we were wondering where you had hidden yourself, and Ned, I see you have found Master Allard.”

Sir Guy controlled his temper with difficulty and nodded to his friend.

“Ah, Dickon, I wasn’t sure where you were and also unsure whether you wished me to keep your presence here secret. Did you note our visitors from Westminster?”

“I did indeed, sir,” Richard said quietly. “I hope they brought you no disturbing news.”

“Disturbing enough.” Sir Guy indicated the parchment in his hand with disgust. “I am ordered, if you please, to present my daughter, Anne, to the Court at Westminster.”

“The letter is from the Queen, in actual fact,” Lady Jarvis interposed. “And it is more a request than a command, though, of course, it must be considered as such. She asks that Anne should come to Westminster to be a companion to Lady Philippa Telford, Lord Wroxeter’s daughter, who is to come from Burgundy to serve Her Majesty.

“Knowing Sir Guy’s past friendship with Lord Wroxeter, she thinks it would be desirable that the two girls share accommodation and duties at Court. Philippa, as you are no doubt aware, is only thirteen years old and Anne would act as a friend and chaperon.”

Sir Guy let out a pent-up gasp of pure fury.

“How can I believe this farrago of nonsense? Richard, can you believe that Wroxeter, the Tudor’s most bitter enemy, would consider the prospect of sending his daughter to Henry’s Court where she would be what amounted to a hostage to ensure Martyn Telford’s acceptance of Henry’s usurpation without further assistance to the Duchess Margaret’s attempts to unseat him?”

Richard Allard perched on a corner of the trestle. “Can I see the letter, sir?”

Sir Guy thrust it at him as if it were encrusted with filth.

Anne had been listening incredulously to this account of the contents of the letter and burst out, “But, Mother, you cannot refuse me this wonderful chance to…”

“Be silent, girl, while your betters are considering,” her father snapped. Ned shrugged uneasily and took himself some distance away out of reach of his father should an incautious word from him bring down on his head the full extent of his sire’s wrath.

Richard Allard pursed his lips and, while reading, ran his other hand through his thick brown hair in a gesture which Anne, watching, thought was probably habitual.

“It does appear strange, I grant you,” he said at last, “but reads genuine in tone. If I recall, my mother once said that Lady Wroxeter and the Queen had been close companions during the time of Queen Anne’s last illness. It could mean that Queen Elizabeth has now recollected that past friendship and wishes to offer her friend’s daughter a place at Court and the opportunity of a fair match.

“I hear Wroxeter was ailing the last time I was at Malines. They lost their second child, you know, a boy, so Lady Wroxeter must have had a hard time recently. If Wroxeter were to die, the Countess would be in straitened circumstances. Since Redmoor, Wroxeter’s lands were sequestered and their fortunes have been greatly strained as all of ours have been.

“Wroxeter may well have come to the conclusion that this offer would be in his daughter’s best interest as,” he added meaningly, “this invitation to you to send Mistress Anne to Court could be in hers.”

Sir Guy blew out his lips and, turning from them, began to pace the hall restlessly. Anne watched uneasily. She knew only too well that the haughty stride and proud, rigid set of the shoulders indicated that he was by no means satisfied with Richard Allard’s final assessment of the situation. Lady Jarvis caught their visitor’s eye and shrugged helplessly.

Anne, knowing it unwise, ventured an opinion though her mother shot her an angry glance.

“Father, I want to go. You cannot deny me this chance.”

He shot round instantly and stood regarding her, feet astride, hands clasped behind his back, his blue eyes cold with fury.

Richard Allard said quietly, “As I see it, sir, you have really no choice. The Queen’s request is a royal command, couched however kindly.”

“Then I must consent to my daughter becoming a hostage for my own compliant behaviour.”

Blue eyes met grey ones and, finally, Sir Guy’s drew away and he turned his back on them again. He gave a slight impotent movement of one hand and at length came back to the hearth and threw himself down in his chair.

He looked apologetically at his Margaret. “Forgive me, my dear. My feelings got the better of me. I cannot bear to think of Anne within the dragon’s lair.”

Anne made a little moue of concern as she recognised her father’s contemptuous reference to the King’s personal device of the Red Dragon.

Richard nodded in sympathy. “Mistress Anne is unlikely to be within the King’s presence often. She may not even be presented to him. I understand Henry frequents his wife’s apartments rarely these days. Not even those closest to the King can avoid acknowledging that he is not demonstrative.”

He gave a little bark of a laugh. “One of our spies reported that the King’s Majesty, as he insists on being referred to these days, appears to bestow his warmest caresses upon his pet monkey which disgusts and angers his councillors. The little beast is destructive, particularly to state documents, I hear.”

Sir Guy did not appear either amused or mollified by the information. He glared at his daughter who stood before him in an attitude of beseeching docility now that she had a glimmer of hope that her wildest dreams might be possible of attainment after all.

He sighed heavily. “As you say, it would be unwise to give Henry what amounted to an affront, and a refusal to comply with the Queen’s request would be received as such.”

Anne waited in an agony of suspense for his decision, her eyes modestly downcast.

“Anne has no suitable garments nor jewellery,” Sir Guy grunted at last, looking to his wife for support.

“We can manage to send her attired fittingly,” Lady Jarvis said slowly, “though it will come hard on our household purse. It will not be expected that the daughter of the disgraced Sir Guy Jarvis arrive at Court dressed extravagantly and in the height of fashion. The King would be unduly suspicious about the source of such unusual wealth and would, no doubt, manage to find a reason for fining us again, more strictly this time. However, that is not my immediate concern.”

She cast a doubtful glance at her daughter. “I fear for Anne’s safety on the journey. Guy, you should not venture into London and there are still pockets of discontent throughout the realm and some masterless men preying on travellers, many of them unfortunate remnants of the battles of Redmoor and Stoke. I shall worry—and we all know that Anne can be her own worst enemy. She says straight out what she thinks, has no skill in subterfuge and knows nothing of the lies and intrigues which makes all Courts miasmas of fear and hatred.”

“Mother, I swear I will be discreet and docile,” Anne interposed. “I would not be so foolish as to anger Her Grace the Queen or place Father in a difficult position by unwise references to his former loyalties.”

Lady Jarvis sighed. “It is not so easy to change or disguise one’s nature as you think, my girl, and your promise still does not relieve me of alarm about your journey.”

Sir Guy said doubtfully, “I trust my men and she would have Mary Scroggins with her. The woman is sensible and reliable. Thank the Virgin she takes after her mother, Kate, rather than that rapscallion, Will, her father.”

“If it would relieve your mind, Lady Jarvis, I, myself, could escort Mistress Anne to London,” Richard offered. “Sir Guy knows I have business there and could see her safely installed at Court and report to you both about her reception and accommodation there on my way home to Yorkshire.”

Anne could not have been more astonished or dismayed by this announcement and was about to remonstrate when she saw that her parents were considering this offer with considerable favour.

“If you would do that, Dickon, it would certainly relieve me of one source of anxiety,” Sir Guy said. “Unless it would mean some measure of inconvenience to you or—” his eyes searched the other’s carefully “—some element of added danger.”

“No, no, sir,” Richard replied cheerfully. “I could see Mistress Anne and her maid safely bestowed and take lodgings in London for a few weeks and keep a careful eye on the situation. If I had any cause for concern I could inform you immediately and, if necessary, take steps to remedy the matter.”

“But I would not wish—” Anne stared rebelliously at their visitor whose restricting presence on this fascinating adventure awaiting her was the very last thing she wanted. Then she realised that her father’s consent to this journey could only be gained by her willing acceptance of Richard Allard’s offer of escort and she finished lamely, “If Master Allard’s business will not be put out by this arrangement, then I shall be glad of his company on my ride south.”

Sir Guy lifted his two hands as if he was helpless to object and Lady Jarvis nodded briskly at her daughter.

“Go up to your chamber, Anne, and ask Mary to come to me in the solar. We cannot insist that she go with you. We must give her the opportunity to refuse if she is so minded though, I admit, I hope she will be willing. I would not wish you to be in any other woman’s charge during these next months.”

She rose as Anne did with alacrity. “The Queen’s messenger requested that you set out for Westminster as soon as can be arranged in order to be there when young Lady Philippa arrives. Since that is so there is a great deal to be done in preparation.”

Anne rushed towards her father and planted a kiss upon his cheek. He grinned broadly though pushing her gently aside.

“There, minx, it looks as if you will get your way as usual. Mind, I expect you to be obedient to Master Allard upon the road and give him no cause to be alarmed for your safety or angered by some stupid prank.”

Anne’s blue eyes blazed, though she quickly veiled them from her father’s gaze. Why must he continually treat her as if she were a naughty child when, within a few weeks, she would have reached marriageable age?

She sank into a little curtsy and, nodding at her mother and laughing in Ned’s direction, for he was pulling a comically wry face, she hastened from the hall in search of her maid.

Lady Jarvis bent over her husband’s fair head as he sat in the chair. She read defeat in his eyes and gently ruffled his still-bright hair.

“The Queen is Plantagenet, Guy, remember. I do not think she would wish to bring your daughter to any harm nor Lady Philippa. I think we can give Anne into Master Allard’s care readily, knowing she could have no finer mentor. I’ll go up now and see what I can to refurbish some of my old Court gowns. The materials are still fine though the style is outdated. Mary will help me. Her skill with the needle is prodigious. I’ve only recently been fashioning one of the new French hoods for Anne.”

He reached back and squeezed her hand and, as she then withdrew, he raised fair eyebrows in Richard Allard’s direction.

“By all the Saints, I hope you are all right in your assessment of this,” he said fervently.

Anne rushed up the stairs to her own chamber, calling imperiously for her maid, Mary Scroggins. The woman appeared soon enough, her sleeves rolled up to her plump elbows, for she had been carefully laundering some of the fine lawn shifts which remained of the better garments Lady Jarvis had retained from the days when coin had been more plentiful in this house. Some had been skilfully darned for none of the newer garments were so soft and delicate and Mary insisted upon dealing with Lady Jarvis’s and Anne’s garments herself.

“What is all the pother?” she enquired mildly in the familiar tones of the trusted servant. Mary had come into service at Rushton four years ago from Lady Allard’s service in Wensleydale where her mother served in attendance upon Sir Dominick and Aleyne.

Anne did not try to reprove her for insolence of tone. She regarded Mary as her trusted companion as well as her attendant.

“Mary, you will never guess…”

“I won’t unless you tell me,” the older girl replied. She was nearing nineteen years of age, brown-haired, with bright hazel eyes and plump rosy cheeks.

She had been reluctant at first to leave the only home she knew in her beloved Yorkshire but she had two other sisters who required places and her mother had insisted upon her going south into a household she knew well, for Kate Scroggins’s husband had served both Sir Dominick Allard and Sir Guy Jarvis. Mary had fitted into the household at Rushton very well and had come to love the girl, three years younger than herself, though there were times when she found Anne a handful and made no bones about telling her so.

Anne was breathless from her run upstairs. “Messengers from Court came and—and, Mary, I have been offered a place in the Queen’s household.”

“What?” Mary stared at her blankly. She was well aware of the situation that existed between those at the new King’s Court and the loyal followers of the late King Richard. “And has your father consented, Mistress Anne?”

“Well, of course, he does not wish me to go but he has had to give his consent, hasn’t he? It is the Queen’s command that I should go,” Anne returned blithely, swirling her skirts as she twisted round in a little jig of triumph. “Mother says you are to go to her in the solar and she will ask if you will go with me willingly. Mary, you will, won’t you? It will be such a grand adventure for both of us.”

“I don’t know about that,” Mary said practically. “My ma says there’s lots of disadvantages to waiting on them great ones at Court but if I don’t keep an eye on you, Mistress Anne, who else will be there to keep you out of mischief?”

“Well, on the journey, Master Allard,” Anne snapped. “Father insists he escort me.” She frowned. “He is so oafish. I do not want him beside me when I arrive in Westminster.”

“Master Richard an oaf?” Mary demanded, scandalized. “Mistress Anne, I’ll thank you to remember my ma and pa have been in service with Master Allard’s family for years and I’m telling you now he has excellent manners. His pa would stand for nothing less, even now, when he’s long been a grown man and gone travelling so far from home.”

“No, I don’t mean he’s oafish in behaviour,” Anne said, somewhat chastened, “but he’s wild and woolly in appearance, like a great shaggy dog—or a wolf,” she amended. “There’s nothing elegant about his clothes or his style of address, is there?”

Mary allowed a little secretive smile to linger round her mouth.

“His father was known as ‘Wolf Allard’, from his personal device, you know, but there was many a maid who thought his rugged looks appealing. I’ve heard many a tale about Master Richard, too. He’s had many admirers.”

“But never married,” Anne pressed. “Why not, do you think, Mary? He’s quite old, isn’t he?”

“He’s no great age for an eligible man,” Mary retorted. “He’s twenty-six or -seven, I think, a good age for deciding to settle down into matrimony, and, Mistress Anne, I’ll have you remember that the Allard lands have suffered the same deprivations of those here at Rushton. Master Allard needs to find a good wench who is worthy of him and isn’t looking for some fine, elegant young gentleman of means not to be compared to him, and not good enough to tie his points, in my opinion.”

Anne laughed. “You cannot be said to be impartial, Mary. Can I surmise you’ve admired him yourself from afar?”

“Indeed I have not,” Mary replied stoutly, “and even if I did I know my place and wouldn’t dare look so high.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Anne conceded slowly. “I am foolish to look for handsome looks and fine clothes. Oh,” she said irritably, “I am so tired of being told how necessary it is to economise. Am I pretty, Mary? Do you think some gentleman of court will find me attractive and offer for me even without a large dowry? Would not that be splendid?”

“Handsome is as handsome does,” Mary said darkly with downright Yorkshire common sense which made Anne laugh again as she held her skirts high and tripped daintily around the chamber as she imagined those grand ladies at Court did.

Anne was very concerned about the contents of the travelling chest she would carry with her to Westminster; over the next few days she watched, wrinkling her brow in doubt as her mother and Mary began to prepare those Court gowns she would need. In the end she thought she would have less need for concern for her mother’s heavy brocades and velvets were cut and restyled for her in those fashions Lady Jarvis had seen on wealthier ladies encountered in Northampton and Leicester.

She doubted the gowns were in the very latest designs but they would not disgrace Anne either in fit or quality and Anne was delighted when dressed in them and caught glimpses of herself in her mother’s travelling Venetian glass mirror. As she had inherited her mother’s dark luxuriant locks the colours suited Anne, with the rich hues of gold brocade, crimson velvet and blue samite bringing out the vivid shade of her eyes.

One gown charmed her most with its subtle draping of the overgown to the back, which Dionysia had told her was the very latest fashion. The new dark blue velvet hood trimmed with seed pearls sat well back from her glossy locks and would complement the other colours.

The day before her departure, as her sense of mingled excitement and apprehension rose, her mother sat alone with her within the solar after sending Mary on some small errand. Margaret Jarvis frowned slightly as she observed her daughter’s flushed countenance. She bit her underlip and wondered how best to broach the matter in hand.

“Anne,” she said at last, “I hope you will not pin too much hopes on future happiness at Court. I have been there and I can tell you it can be very lonely and frightening, even surrounded as one is by a veritable press of people.”

Anne eyed her thoughtfully. “But you were happy there. You loved Queen Anne for you named me after her and—and you met my father and…”

“I did not surrender to my love for your father from the first moment we met,” Lady Jarvis said tartly. “It took some time for me to learn to trust his motives and to love him truly. I do not want you to fall for the first popinjay who offers you flattery.”

“Do you judge me so foolish?” Anne demanded hotly.

“No, but your head is turned by your longing for this venture and I worry about you. You must learn to be decorous in behaviour, to keep your opinions to yourself, to accept without complaint any demand put upon you. I must also ask you to be particularly kind and protective of Lady Philippa, who is considerably younger than you. Doubtless she will feel very lost at Westminster for she was born in Burgundy and, to my knowledge, has never been to England before. Indeed, her English may not be good and it will be for you to be patient with her.”

“Perhaps she will not like me,” Anne considered, “or she may be haughty mannered. She is the daughter of an Earl.”

“Both Lord Wroxeter and his Countess are sensible, considerate people. I shall be very surprised indeed if you find their daughter lacking in either of those qualities yet she is little more than a child and you have been chosen to be her friend for specific reasons. Do not lead her into foolishness, Anne, as I know you are prone to do on occasions.”

Anne regarded her mother gravely and read very real anxiety in her eyes.

“I promise I will behave so as never to disgrace you,” she said quietly.

Margaret Jarvis hesitated and Anne turned to her sharply as if she had thought the homily was over, but, no, her mother had something else upon her mind and Anne waited in suspense for what was to come.

“Your father and I are particularly anxious that you should also behave well while under Master Allard’s care,” Lady Jarvis said with what Anne considered unusual vehemence.

That would be it, she thought sourly. They have already noted my distaste for the idea of his escort.

“I will give him no trouble, though,” she added tartly, “to hear Mary sing his praises, he is capable of dealing with any emergency which arises, a veritable paragon, Master Allard.”

“Your father thinks a great deal of Dickon Allard,” her mother said sharply. “See that you do heed him, for…” She hesitated and Anne pounced on that slight hesitation instantly.

“For?” she questioned. “What were you about to say, Mother?”

Lady Jarvis’s troubled eyes met her daughter’s challenging ones squarely.

“You might as well be told now. We have high hopes that when he has completed his business in London town Richard Allard will offer for your hand.” There, it was out and she compressed her lips as she saw first bewilderment and then pure fury dawn in her daughter’s expression.

“Marry Richard Allard?” she echoed in a high shrill tone. “You cannot mean it, Mother.”

“Why not? Despite the fines imposed after Redmoor the Allard lands are quite extensive and it would be a fair match.”

“But he is far too old for me.”

“Nonsense. Your father was almost that age when we were wed. Richard has reached the age of experience and will know how to deal with a high-strung young woman like yourself.”

“I will never consent to marry him,” Anne said through gritted teeth. “Do you hear me, never.”

Margaret Jarvis looked perplexed, then she gave way to anger.

“You will do as your father wishes, as every girl of your age must do. I cannot for the life of me understand why you are so much against the notion. Some time ago you were complaining that no one would ask for you since you are without dowry and that you wished to settle down soon, marry, have a household of your own and children.

“Richard Allard is an honourable young man. He has not been discourteous to you, at least, not in my hearing. He is tolerably good looking and still young. Neither I nor your father have heard anything to his discredit in the matter of his dealings with women, which is saying a great deal, I can tell you. Many men neglect their wives and some are prone to treat them badly, even beating them. I cannot imagine Richard would treat you so, however you try his patience.”

Slowly Anne articulated, “I will never, not even if I were to fall in love with him, which is grossly unlikely, agree to marry a man whose loyalty to the Crown is in question. I have seen what such sympathies can do,” she said forcefully.

“You have lived with it for fourteen years, worrying constantly in case Father would involve himself in treasonable business and end up in the Tower, or worse, at Tyburn. I am aware that many men who come here do so to discuss treason. I even doubt Master Allard’s motives for travelling to London at this time. I am no fool, Mother. You cannot hope to keep secrets such as these from me now I am of age to understand.

“Even as a young child I was aware of intrigues and anxieties within this house. I will not live like this. Yes, I want to marry and have a family but I want to have a peaceful life, one in which I am not looking over my shoulder every moment in case King Henry’s men should ride into my courtyard intent on arresting my husband.”

For moments Lady Jarvis was struck quite dumb in astonishment. Anne, at almost sixteen, had seemed to her still a child who needed constant protection from the knowledge of the anxieties which continually beset her. She had believed that, between them, she and Guy had managed to keep their children unaware of the fears which shadowed their lives. She gave a great shuddering breath.

“We have no evidence that Richard is keen to work against the King’s Grace,” she said shakily. “You must never breathe such matters. Words like those could injure us as well as his family. You are talking nonsense. He goes to London simply to deal with business for his father, business concerning wool sales, I imagine. Dominick Allard keeps many sheep on his land. I have no fear that you will be endangered by Richard’s presence on your journey.”

“Of course he will embark on nothing treasonable while I am with him,” Anne said pithily, “but, nevertheless, his father’s loyalties are his, and he would never forsake his work for the Plantagenet cause, whatever the needs of his wife and children.”

“Anne…” Her mother took her gently by the shoulders “…I think I understand now your concerns but marriage is never easy. I did not think you were foolish enough to believe the troubadour tales of romantic love and unalloyed happiness which lasts for ever. I ask you to remember that finding you a suitable husband will not be easy for your father. He is doing his best to provide for you.

“You would not wish to be an unwed dependent on Ned when he brings his wife home to Rushton and, in due time, inherits, would you? This time at Court will widen your horizons. It may well make you think that what is offered is all for the best.

“Do not speak to your father of anything I’ve said. It was his wish that we wait to tell you of Master Allard’s offer but I decided it was high time you were kept informed of our plans for you. The next few months will be crucial to your future welfare. I want you to do nothing to jeopardise that.”

Firmly Anne drew away. Tears glimmered in her blue eyes and she curtsied formally and asked permission to leave the solar. Lady Jarvis sighed heavily and took up another French hood she was embroidering with silver thread and seed pearls for her daughter’s travelling chest.

Anne was not aware that she was really crying as she ran across the courtyard towards the stables when Richard Allard’s familiar deep tones demanded that she stop and explain her reason for such obvious signs of distress. Apparently he, too, had been to the stables and was now on his way back to the house. She almost cannoned into him.

“Mistress Anne, whatever can be the matter? You are not hurt?”

His tone was genuinely concerned and she stopped and turned her face from him. How could she explain? She simply could not reveal the source of her distress. Her mother had forbidden her to speak of it. She laughed a trifle shakily.

“Oh, Master Allard, I am so sorry I did not see you for a moment. The sun blinded me. I think—think that I have at last realised that I am leaving home and all those I love for the first time. It is just a little—frightening.”

He had a consoling grasp upon her arm, gentle but calming, and she was grateful for his care of her.

“It is silly,” she chided herself. “I really do want to go but now—” she gave a little gulping gasp “—my departure is so near and I am afraid I will not know how to conduct myself and Lady Philippa might not like me and—and everything could go wrong and I shall be so far from home.”

He shook his head, smilingly. “Even in so short a time I have come to know your worth, Mistress Anne. Of course you will pine for home at first, it will all seem so strange to you, but you will settle after the first nervous hours. I felt just the same and I was much younger and less self-composed than you are. You have been well trained in matters of deportment. The Queen will be delighted with you, I am sure.”

“Yes,” she said, blinking back tears. “Yes, I have been waiting for this opportunity for so long and now it is here I am frightening myself with foolish notions of failure. Thank you, Master Allard, for your encouraging words.”

For the first time she looked full at him and, in the light of her mother’s disclosure, regarded him as a possible suitor.

He was, she thought, after all, ruggedly attractive, if not handsome. He seemed to exude an excess of raw physical power and was just too big to appeal to her, but his features were regular and, what was more important, his expression good humoured and kindly. She saw no trace of cynicism or cruelty about the set of his mouth and the crinkles at the sides of his eyes told her he laughed often.

Had he not been Sir Dominick Allard’s son, could she have come to accept him willingly as a prospective husband? She put the thought firmly aside even when the touch of his strong brown fingers upon her arm sent tingles throughout her trembling body.

What would he be like in the marriage bed? Considerate, gentle, passionate? She thought he might possess all of those qualities and, she considered with a little pang of alarm, he was more than likely adventurous and brave, too much so for his own well-being and the peace of mind of any possible wife.

She moved to free herself, though gently and courteously. “I am keeping you, Master Allard, from whatever you are about to do.”

“Why so formal, Mistress Anne?” he teased. “We shall have opportunity to get to know one another better during the next few days of our journey together.” He shaded his eyes against the glare of the bright, low sun. “It appears the weather should hold good. I hope so. We do not want to be wallowing in mud on the highway.” His lips twitched as he glanced up at her slantingly from beneath his thick brown lashes. “I hope you are not fearful about our journeying together. Once or twice I have thought you are avoiding me.”

“No, no,” she amended hastily. “I—we—have been so busy preparing. I am grateful for your offer of escort. Otherwise my father would have been reluctant to let me go.”

“Then you are not afraid I will disgrace you at Westminster? I remember that when we first met you took me for some servant or wandering chapman. Am I so uncouth? I shall merely deliver you at the palace, you know, not force my attendance upon you afterwards. Only, I want you to be aware of the fact that I shall be nearby—lodging in the Chepe, probably. I will let you know where, in case you should have need of my services, just for the first few weeks.”

She drew a heavy breath. Already he was aware of his responsibilities towards her. Walls around her, cabinning, confining, were drawing in close. She would not allow that to be. What she had said to her mother was an expression of her strongest resolve. She would marry no man whose dubious behaviour would threaten her happiness and tranquillity.

“Thank you again, Master Allard. Of course I am not ashamed of your presence. I was very stupid not to recognise your worth that first day. I was, if you recall, too concerned for my own safety to be aware of much else. We should both retire early tonight so as to make an early and invigorated start in the morning.”

She bobbed a curtsy and turned back towards the hall. She must hasten up to her chamber. It would never do to encounter her father while her thoughts were in chaos.

He bowed and stepped back to allow her passage and she turned towards the hall again, all thought of escape abandoned. At the hall door she turned and found him watching her gravely, a slight frown on his normally good-humoured face. Did he guess that she had been made aware of the likelihood of their betrothal and of her reaction against the idea? Guiltily she turned from him to look straight ahead, conscious of the deep blush that was suffusing her cheeks and throat.