This Heart of Mine (16 page)

“I think that my godchild will be fortunate in her husband, my lord,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Very well, sirrah! You may court the maid with my permission, and I shall not reveal your secret to anyone. I see the wisdom in the plan devised by you and Robin Southwood. In the short time I have known Velvet, I have learned that she is indeed stubborn. It is better that she come to know Alexander Gordon for himself and not resist him merely because he is BrocCairn. I will, however, give Velvet one small advantage. I will not release her from my service until Lord and Lady de Marisco return. The latest news has them arriving some time in the autumn. I think you might wait until then to claim, and to bed, your bride.”

Alex stopped, and, turning to face the queen, he caught her hand up and raised it to his lips. “I am grateful, madame,” he said.

She smiled at him, and for a brief moment he saw the young girl inside the aging woman. Then, offering her his arm, they strolled in the beautiful midsummer gardens of Lynmouth, and he made Elizabeth Tudor forget for a few short minutes the terrible Spanish threat that hung not only over her beloved England, but over her own frail person.

R
obin
Southwood was totally confused. Never in his life had he felt this way. His fête for the queen had been a tremendous success, and yet he felt despondent. When the last guest had left, he flung himself into a chair by the crackling fire.

Joining him there, Velvet and Alex were so full of high spirits themselves that at first they didn’t notice Robin’s depression.

“I’ve never been to such a gathering before,” Alex said enthusiastically. “You’re a fine host, Rob!”

“God’s nightshirt, big brother, ’twas a great success. The house and gardens looked magnificent, and the food and entertainment will be talked about for weeks. Her Majesty said that she has not attended such a party since your father was alive! I am the most envied girl at court because you are my brother!”

“I met Sir Walter Ralegh tonight, Rob,” Alex put in. “He’s planning a voyage to the New World, and he wanted to know if any of my ships might want to go along. Do you know what an opportunity it would be for us?”

“Scamp is quite envious of you, you know, Robin. I think he may try to steal away your chef the next time he himself entertains Her Majesty.” Velvet giggled. “Oh, Robin, how can I thank you for letting me be your hostess and for these lovely pearls? You are just the best brother a girl ever had!”

Suddenly the Earl of Lynmouth sat bolt upright in his chair.
“Who was she?”
he demanded. “Who was the incredibly beautiful creature you introduced me to tonight, Velvet?”

“What!” Both Velvet and Alex were taken aback.

“That utterly exquisite blonde in the wonderful turquoise silk gown! Never have I seen such perfection! Who is she? You
must
know, Velvet, and
I
must know as well!”

For a moment, Velvet was totally baffled. There had been several beautiful blond women at the fête tonight. “Robin,” she said slowly, “I am not sure who you mean. There were a number of blondes, and at least three of them were in blue.”

“Not blue, turquoise! You must know her! You said she was one of your best friends at court when you introduced her, but I could not linger and find out more because the queen’s barge was sighted then.”

“Angel! You mean Angel!”

“Angel? Is that her name? My God, how fitting!” He sighed deeply.

Velvet resisted the overwhelming urge to burst into a fit of giggles, though the fact that Alex grinned conspiratorily at her over her brother’s head didn’t make it any easier. Swallowing, she said in a somewhat strained voice, “Her name is Angel Christman, Robin. She is a royal ward, and has been raised at court. Her parents are deceased.”

“I want to meet her,” Robin said firmly.

“You did meet her,” Velvet protested.

“I want to meet her properly, Velvet. I realize that you must return to court tomorrow, but the next time you come to Lynmouth House I want you to bring Mistress Angel Christman with you.”

Again Velvet fought back the urge to laugh. Robin was behaving so foolishly. Then, looking at him, she realized, somewhat startled, that her brother had fallen in love! Love at first sight was something that happened only in fairy tales, wasn’t it? Had Robin really fallen in love with Angel? What would Angel think of it when she told her? No, she couldn’t tell her! What if Angel didn’t really love Robin back and only accepted his suit because of his vast wealth? Mama had always said a woman should marry only for love. She would have to keep silent and wait and see if Angel responded to Robin’s suit.

Without warning, Velvet felt very tired, and she realized that it was almost dawn. She was due back at court that very evening, and if she did not get some rest, she was going to disgrace herself by falling asleep on her feet in the queen’s presence.

“Go to bed, Velvet,” Robin said as if reading her thoughts. “I remember what it was like to be at court in the queen’s service.”

Velvet curtsyed to her brother and Alex, then moved slowly and sleepily from the library.

As the door closed behind her, Alex looked at his friend. “When will Velvet be coming back to Lynmouth House, Rob?”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow before she returns to her duties that she’s to treat my home as her own whenever she’s in London. Mother would want it that way, I know,” Robin said.

“When do you think she’ll have another day free?”

“We’ll have to join the court, my friend, if you’re going to woo my sister and if I’m going to pay my addresses to Mistress Christman. Maids of Honor take their pleasure when and where they can, for the queen is an exacting mistress. I well remember my own days as her page.”

“God in His heaven, I nae thought to find myself at Elizabeth Tudor’s court. I’m no courtier, Robin.” Alex shook his head.

“As long as you’re honest with the queen and Velvet grows fond of you, Alex, you’ve no need to play the royal game. I could not help but notice tonight that several of the ladies were most taken with you.”

Alex chuckled softly. “I must say I’ve nae had such imaginative offers since our days in Paris, Robin. With such a virtuous queen, I am surprised she tolerates such licentiousness around her.”

“She tolerates it as long as it is not out in the open. Let a liaison become a scandal and there is hell to pay, you may be sure.”

The Scotsman nodded, then said, “Well, I’m off to my bed, too.” He stood, stretching his long frame.

“You should have pleasant dreams,” Robin teased, “or were you unsuccessful this evening with my sister?”

Alex grinned back. “A gentleman, even a wild and rude Scot such as myself, never kisses and tells, Robin.” Before Lord Southwood could pursue it further, Lord Gordon was quickly gone.

Robin smiled after him, thinking that there had been a day when Alex Gordon had most certainly kissed and told. His smile broadened into a grin as he remembered those long-gone times they’d spent in Paris, the whores they shared, and the lies they told each other about their prowess. He chuckled, then grew somber. Those were the days before his marriage to Alison de Grenville.

Alison.
Foolish, foolish Alison. He had never loved her, but he had been very fond of her. He had never been
in love
at all until tonight when he had seen the exquisite Mistress Angel Christman. He had spoken but few words to the girl. He hadn’t even danced with her, yet he knew, or rather his heart knew, that she was the woman for him. He had sworn to himself that he would never marry again, but this was an entirely different matter altogether.

His mother had once tried to explain love, true love, to him. She had even asked him if he wanted to call off the betrothal
that she had made with the de Grenvilles when he was a little boy. He hadn’t allowed her to do so, for he knew he had to marry someone and Alison was pleasant enough. He had known her all his life. “But you don’t love her!” his mother had fussed at him, and he’d smiled with the superiority of youth. His mother had spent her whole life
in love, it
seemed, and although she claimed to have found great happiness with the last of his stepfathers, Adam de Marisco, she had suffered greatly for her love. Robin had often questioned if love was worth all the pain, and had decided early it was not. He had wanted an orderly life.

Mistress Angel Christman, he suspected, was going to change all that. He had never meant to return to court, preferring a quiet life on his Devon estate with his children. His marriage to Alison had brought about his gradual withdrawal from the queen’s circle, and her death had been the best excuse of all to stay away. Now he found himself being drawn back by a pair of meltingly gorgeous blue eyes, a head of blond ringlets, and a smile that touched his heart so strongly he almost wept remembering it. His duty as the queen’s host had prevented him from pursuing Mistress Christman this evening, but he was going back to court to do so. His first move, however, would be to inquire about her background from Lord Hundston, who would know all.

The queen’s chancellor was very surprised the morning after the Earl of Lynmouth’s fête to receive a message from that gentleman regarding the background of one Mistress Angel Christman, a royal ward. England was facing the most serious threat of invasion since the Normans. Everything Elizabeth Tudor stood for, everything England stood for, was in mortal danger, and Lord Southwood wanted to learn about a chit of a girl. These hedonistic courtiers, thought Hundston, and then he remembered who the request came from and reassessed the situation. Robert Southwood was a serious young man who had been deeply and genuinely grieved by his wife’s death. That there was a royal ward with some quality to attract this nobleman was in itself interesting.

Lord Hundston looked into the matter and was disappointed by what he found. Mistress Angel Christman, age seventeen, had been a royal ward since the age of five. She was the granddaughter of two minor barons from the northwest counties and the child of a younger son and daughter. She had been left in the queen’s charge by her father, who had murdered her mother after finding the lady in another gentleman’s bed.
The girl had no fortune, no influential relations to aid her, and therefore no prospects. One thing Lord Hundston did learn was that Mistress Christman was radiantly beautiful, which might possibly stand her in good stead if she were clever as well. So far she had not given evidence of such quality, and there was absolutely no gossip connecting her with any gentleman. Her closest two friends seemed to be Bess Throckmorton and Velvet de Marisco.

“Of course!” Hundston spoke aloud to himself. That had to be the connection. Mistress Christman was involved with Mistress de Marisco, who was a younger sister to the Earl of Lynmouth. With her parents away, the earl was looking after his sister’s interests, and rightly so. He but sought to know about her favorite companions. Bess Throckmorton was a known quantity coming as she did from a highly placed family, even if she herself was poor; but Mistress Christman, an unimportant royal ward from an undistinguished family, was, of course, unknown to Robert Southwood. Lord Hundston dictated a message to his secretary presenting the girl’s background and informing the Earl of Lynmouth that, according to the information available to him, Mistress Christman was a proper friend for his sister. Then he turned to the far more serious matters of state.

The night before warning beacons had sprung up on every hill in Devon and Cornwall. This was the signal that the great Armada of Spain had been sighted off the
Lizard
at dawn, and it was now close to Plymouth. The signal fires had spread the word from Devon to Dorset to Wiltshire to Surrey to London. The news had been kept from the queen on Lord Burghley’s orders, however, until after the Earl of Lynmouth’s fête.

The queen had had a very traumatic year and needed this small bit of pleasure, William Cecil had decided. He had been with her since the very beginning, and he knew her better than anyone. The next few weeks would tell the fate of the Tudor dynasty, and the queen would need to be strong.

Once the fête was over, however, he had told her, and the news had spread like wildfire throughout the court. The gentleman courtiers had not even bothered to sleep. They had returned to Greenwich only long enough to change from their silks and velvets into more practical clothing. Then they were off for the coast. Charles Howard, the lord admiral, was already in Plymouth, and had been for some time. So were Sir Francis Drake, John Hawkins, and Martin Frobisher, the other great admirals of the fleet.

There had been several earlier sightings of the Spanish. In
late June a Cornish bark bound for the French coast had spotted nine large ships with great, blood-red crusaders’ crosses on their sails cruising the seas between the Scillies and Ushant. Another coastal trader out of a Devon port was startled to come upon a small fleet of fifteen ships. Chased, he had come ashore in Cornwall and ridden hell-bent for Plymouth with his story.

Francis Drake had, of course, realized what these sightings meant. The previous year he had surprised the Spanish at Coruña, and burned their fleet, thus postponing King Philip’s attack on England. Now the Armada was rebuilt, refitted, and revictualed. Drake convinced the lord admiral to seize the initiative, sail south, and strike at the Spanish again before they could reach England. Within a day’s sail of Coruña, however, the wind veered about and blew strongly from the south. The English had set sail short of victuals, and now, even shorter of rations, there was nothing for them to do but turn about and sail home. There was always the distinct possibility that the Spanish would take advantage of the south wind and reach England before they did. Such a thing was too awful even to contemplate.