June Francis - MAIDEN in the Tudor Court

‘Edward Fustian. He is a member of the Royal Company of Mercers.’

‘I will warn the servants not to allow either of them entry.’

‘I would go further and have them deny that either of us have been here,’ said Alex, grim-faced. ‘I do not want him to know just yet that I am acquainted with either you or Mistress Appleby.’

‘You will be our secret weapon,’ she chuckled conspiratorially.

‘Aye.’

Alex noticed a couple of servants approaching and was relieved to hand over their mistress to her maid. As he went upstairs with the male servant, he thought how he and Rosamund had managed to escape being questioned by her ladyship about how they had travelled to London and in whose company, although the sick woman might yet still do so. He and Rosamund should have discussed their answers further, but it was too late to do so now.

Rosamund wasted no time joining her godmother at the table in her parlour when the summons to the midday meal came. She felt rested and was eager to get to know Lady Elizabeth whilst the opportunity was available. No mention had been made about Rosamund travelling to Richmond with the other two, so she could only presume that she would stay here at her godmother’s mansion in London.

‘I hope you do not mind eating in here, my dear,’ said Lady Elizabeth, ‘but it is much warmer than the hall and easier for the servants.’

‘I do not mind at all,’ said Rosamund, smiling across the table. ‘I hope you are feeling better.’ It was hard to tell by looking at her painted face.

Lady Elizabeth’s eyes smiled at her goddaughter. ‘I feel better for seeing you, my dear. Tell me, what do you think of the Baron? An interesting, attractive man, is he not? He will make some fortunate woman an excellent husband.’

Rosamund’s smile faded. So Master Nilsson was definitely a baron like his grandfather before him. ‘I suppose he would. But why do you mention this to me?’ she asked casually.

Lady Elizabeth did not immediately reply, but leaned forward and seized her goddaughter’s arm with a clawlike hand. ‘How old are you, Rosamund? I’m afraid I have forgotten what year you were born.’

‘two-and-twenty,’ she answered.

Her godmother sighed. ‘I thought as much. Of course, you are old enough to find a husband for yourself, but in the circumstances you could do with a little help.’

‘Why do we talk of husbands?’ asked Rosamund, her mind in a whirl. ‘Has he spoken to you about my needing to get married?’

‘Certainly not!’ Her godmother looked at her keenly. ‘Why didn’t your father choose a husband for you years ago, when you were in the first bloom of womanhood?’

‘I deem he believed my stepmother when she told him I was mad,’ said Rosamund sadly. ‘She wanted me to marry Edward, but thankfully, Father would not allow it. As for William, he said that no man would want to marry me. Not only was I ugly, but I was too much of a bad bargain for any man to take on.’

‘What wicked things to say to you, my dear, and not true,’ said Lady Elizabeth indignantly. ‘Well, you’ve escaped them now and you will marry.’

‘No. You must not concern yourself,’ said Rosamund hastily. ‘Besides, I have no dowry.’

‘No dowry! Does the Baron know this?’

Rosamund stiffened. ‘I do not remembering raising the matter with him. Why should I?’

‘Because he is your best prospect. He does not need the money, but with a dowry you will not feel like a beggar maid when you accept him. I will send for my lawyer instantly and he will deal with this matter of a dowry before we leave for Richmond.’

Rosamund was stunned. ‘No! You must not do this. I do not wish to marry and, even if I did, I have decided that I will wait until Harry’s return before doing so,’ she added rashly.

Lady Elizabeth gave her a shrewd look. ‘Has the Baron compromised you, my dear?’

Rosamund gasped. ‘Certainly not! How can you suggest such a thing? The Baron is an honourable man.’

Her godmother’s eyes wore a satisfied expression. ‘So he has proposed marriage to you?’

‘I did not say that!’

‘No, you did not, but I can imagine that he is determined that you will not suffer by your both succumbing to temptation. I do not blame you for being charmed by him. He is just like his grandfather, irresistible.’

‘No! It was not like that at all,’ cried Rosamund, jumping to her feet. ‘I am chaste.’

A spasm twisted Lady Elizabeth’s face and she removed her hairpiece and scratched her almost-bald pate. Rosamund could only stare at her. ‘Close your mouth, dear. You look like a fish,’ said her godmother, replacing her wig. ‘So he asked you to marry him and you tell me you are chaste.’ Her tone was thoughtful.

Rosamund was angry and embarrassed and attempted to change the direction of the conversation. ‘It was extremely rude of me to stare at you in such an illbred manner.’ Her voice was terse.

‘No more than I was in removing my wig in your company, but it itches so at times and that makes my head ache even worse.’ Lady Elizabeth paused. ‘Don’t be angry with me, my dear. I am only interested in your well-being. I did, after all, notice that neither of you arrived with servants, nor did you mention having company on the road. In the circumstances, you would be a fool to refuse him.’

Rosamund clenched her fists. ‘He has not asked me to marry him and there is no need for him to marry me. I am chaste and I do not wish to marry him.’

‘Why not? He is rich, handsome and charming.’

‘Because…’ Rosamund’s voice trailed off. She could not tell her godmother that the Baron was in love with another woman. Most likely she would not believe her.

‘I understand,’ said Lady Elizabeth, shaking her head. ‘Young women are always full of romantic notions. You wish to be wooed.’

Rosamund had not thought of that as a reason for refusing the Baron’s proposal, but now she decided that it was as good a one as any other, so she acknowledged there was some truth in Lady Elizabeth’s words.

Her godmother nodded. ‘You must come with us to Richmond Palace for the celebrations. There should be time enough there for the Baron to woo you in the proper style.’

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