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Authors: Kate Emerson
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with golden hair. She did not look much older than I was. “She is a cousin to the Duchess of Richmond and the Earl of Surrey and serves as one of the queen’s maids of honor.”
Jack joined us then, putting an end to Edith’s confidences. I was content to watch the spectacle at his side, observing in silence as the defenders and the challengers from the tournament were rewarded first with gifts and then with food.
A space had been left for tables, and dozens of platters overflowing with steaming dishes were carried in—roasted meats and sauces and sweets of all sorts. Each new course was announced with a thunderous fanfare provided by military drummers. Softer sounds filled the air at other times.
The only person Jack pointed out to me was the Earl of Surrey. “The earl was Queen Anne’s ‘Chief Defender’ in the lists,” he explained. “He led twenty-nine brave men and true into mock battle. He ran eight successful courses each of the first two days of the tournament without ever being unhorsed and was just as successful when they fought with swords instead of lances.”
Boisterous and full of good cheer, Surrey slapped one of his fellows on the back and embraced another. I could make out little of his appearance from my perch, only a full head of auburn hair and a rather scraggly beard of the same color.
The official festivities ended when the king and queen departed. The rest of the company began to disperse as well. When Jack led me out of the musicians’ gallery, I expected to return to the water gate, but the passageway he chose took us instead into an antechamber containing another narrow flight of stairs. Edith and I followed Jack up, and up, and up, until the steps ended ina little turret room. Its windows looked down into and out over the Thames.
“You should not be here with him,” Edith hissed at me, alarmed by the remoteness and privacy of the chamber.
“I am in no danger,” I whispered back. In truth, I wished there were some hope that Jack Harington might look upon me as a young woman he’d like to steal away and marry. I adored my music master, but he still looked upon me as a child. That I was a child—not quite twelve years old—was something I preferred to ignore.
“Put aside your foolish daydreams,” Edith snapped. “That young gentleman is up to no good.”
Jack was, in fact, arranging cushions on the floor and setting out beakers and cups.
Edith was still trying to push me toward the door when two very finely dressed courtiers entered through it.
“Jack!” the man exclaimed. “Well met! And this must be the lass they call ‘Harington’s pet.’ ” He looked straight at me when he said it, a friendly smile on his darkly tanned face.
“Tom! Mind your manners!” His female companion smacked his forearm with a closed fan, but she was laughing.
Edith bent to speak into my ear. “That fellow is Thomas Clere, squire to the Earl of Surrey.”
Overhearing, the young man’s head snapped around and he gave my maidservant a frosty stare. It faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Edith, by my spurs! We wondered where you had vanished to.”
He might have said more, had not the Earl of Surrey himself arrived just then. The woman with him was not his wife. She was his sister, the Duchess of Richmond. Without standing on ceremony, they settled themselves on the cushions Jack had arranged. Master Clere and the other woman joined them.
I glanced at Jack, who remained standing, uncertain how to act.Was this the “surprise” he had promised me? I could not imagine why he would think I’d wish to meet these people, but when he seized my hand and thrust me forward, I went. With a flourish, he presented me to the earl and the duchess first and then to the gentlewoman who had come with Thomas Clere, Mistress Mary Shelton, companion to the duchess.
Up close, I saw that the earl and his sister shared that auburn hair. Both had hazel eyes, but while her fair coloring was
Jack joined us then, putting an end to Edith’s confidences. I was content to watch the spectacle at his side, observing in silence as the defenders and the challengers from the tournament were rewarded first with gifts and then with food.
A space had been left for tables, and dozens of platters overflowing with steaming dishes were carried in—roasted meats and sauces and sweets of all sorts. Each new course was announced with a thunderous fanfare provided by military drummers. Softer sounds filled the air at other times.
The only person Jack pointed out to me was the Earl of Surrey. “The earl was Queen Anne’s ‘Chief Defender’ in the lists,” he explained. “He led twenty-nine brave men and true into mock battle. He ran eight successful courses each of the first two days of the tournament without ever being unhorsed and was just as successful when they fought with swords instead of lances.”
Boisterous and full of good cheer, Surrey slapped one of his fellows on the back and embraced another. I could make out little of his appearance from my perch, only a full head of auburn hair and a rather scraggly beard of the same color.
The official festivities ended when the king and queen departed. The rest of the company began to disperse as well. When Jack led me out of the musicians’ gallery, I expected to return to the water gate, but the passageway he chose took us instead into an antechamber containing another narrow flight of stairs. Edith and I followed Jack up, and up, and up, until the steps ended ina little turret room. Its windows looked down into and out over the Thames.
“You should not be here with him,” Edith hissed at me, alarmed by the remoteness and privacy of the chamber.
“I am in no danger,” I whispered back. In truth, I wished there were some hope that Jack Harington might look upon me as a young woman he’d like to steal away and marry. I adored my music master, but he still looked upon me as a child. That I was a child—not quite twelve years old—was something I preferred to ignore.
“Put aside your foolish daydreams,” Edith snapped. “That young gentleman is up to no good.”
Jack was, in fact, arranging cushions on the floor and setting out beakers and cups.
Edith was still trying to push me toward the door when two very finely dressed courtiers entered through it.
“Jack!” the man exclaimed. “Well met! And this must be the lass they call ‘Harington’s pet.’ ” He looked straight at me when he said it, a friendly smile on his darkly tanned face.
“Tom! Mind your manners!” His female companion smacked his forearm with a closed fan, but she was laughing.
Edith bent to speak into my ear. “That fellow is Thomas Clere, squire to the Earl of Surrey.”
Overhearing, the young man’s head snapped around and he gave my maidservant a frosty stare. It faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Edith, by my spurs! We wondered where you had vanished to.”
He might have said more, had not the Earl of Surrey himself arrived just then. The woman with him was not his wife. She was his sister, the Duchess of Richmond. Without standing on ceremony, they settled themselves on the cushions Jack had arranged. Master Clere and the other woman joined them.
I glanced at Jack, who remained standing, uncertain how to act.Was this the “surprise” he had promised me? I could not imagine why he would think I’d wish to meet these people, but when he seized my hand and thrust me forward, I went. With a flourish, he presented me to the earl and the duchess first and then to the gentlewoman who had come with Thomas Clere, Mistress Mary Shelton, companion to the duchess.
Up close, I saw that the earl and his sister shared that auburn hair. Both had hazel eyes, but while her fair coloring was
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