Candace Robb: King's Bishop

But she, too, held up her glass. ‘To Sir Robert.’

All toasted.

Sir Robert then stepped forward. ‘Let us also toast to the Lord Chancellor’s generosity in providing this splendid wine.’

‘The Archbishop, Sir Robert,’ Bess said. ‘His Grace is no longer chancellor.’

Thoresby had just returned from London, where he had handed the Great Seal and the chain of office to Wykeham.

Sir Robert scratched his thin white hair and frowned. ‘Ah. Now it comes back to me. My daughter did say something about it. Forgive me, Your Grace.’

Thoresby held up his cup. ‘No need, Sir Robert. Why should you be bothered to remember the shifting fortunes of court? Let us drink rather to Captain Archer, Mistress Wilton and my beautiful godchild.’

When they had also toasted the house, the workmen, Owen’s miraculously successful moving of the apple trees, Thoresby stepped forward once more. ‘And lastly, let us drink to Sir William of Wykeham, who is consecrated this day Bishop of Winchester.’

Camden Thorpe frowned. ‘But, Your Grace, should not the Archbishop of our great city have been included in the ceremony? How is it that you are not at St Paul’s?’

‘He is well attended by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the bishops of London and Salisbury. I shall not be missed, Guildmaster.’

‘But did you not wish to go?’ Camden asked, a man who delighted in ritual.

‘Not when it falls on the first anniversary of my goddaughter’s birth,’ Thoresby said with a gentle smile.

Owen and Lucie exchanged puzzled looks.

‘To the Bishop of Winchester,’ Gwen Thorpe said, raising her glass.

After the toast, as the guests moved towards the gaily lit table, Bess touched Tom’s arm, and, leaning close, whispered, ‘’Tis a proper house for them.’

Tom looked round at the glazed casements opened to the garden, the tiled firepit in the middle of the room, the raised platform at the head of the table. He shrugged. ‘Too grand for me. The old kitchen was more to my liking.’

‘Well, they will be glad of the extra room when the next babe comes.’

Tom glanced over at Lucie, shook his head. ‘Lucie is with child? She looks right slender to my eye.’

‘You’ve a good eye for a tiny waist, as always, husband. But mark my words, with His Grace come home to stay there will be ample opportunity for bed sport.’

‘Oh, aye.’ Tom drained his glass. ‘Come, wife, let us join them at table before that fine roast is cold.’