Wild Hearts

by Virginia Henley

  It was the middle of December, and they had no time to lose if they wanted to be at Court for the festive season. They anchored the Ambrosia at Greenwich, five miles down the Thames, and while Stephen Galbraith left for Court immediately, it took Magnus five full days to lease a house and hurriedly set up its furnishings.

  Tabrizia had never seen so many people in her life. London was bulging at the seams with people who had flocked to Court. This was the first Christmas Queen Anne had spent in her new country, and rumor had it that by the time she had reached Windsor the previous summer, her entourage had swelled to five thousand on horseback and two hundred and fifty carriages. More than half of them were Scots families who had to equip and adorn themselves to compete at the richer English Court. To pay for the journey and lease houses in London, they had flocked to moneylenders like Abrahams, using their Scottish lands as their security.

  For her first appearance at Court two days before Christmas, Tabrizia chose a white velvet gown, the bodice of which was encrusted with crystal beads that caught and threw back brilliant little flashes of candlelight with every movement of her body. Magnus, resplendent in wine velvet, was almost as excited as Tabrizia as he wrapped her white fox stole around her shoulders and told her to hurry. He had carefully selected one of his most trusted men as a bodyguard for his daughter. Jasper, a wiry man with iron gray hair, had been instructed to shadow Tabrizia's every movement, but in such a discreet manner, even she would not know her every word and gesture were being observed and guarded.

  King James lived at Whitehall, and it was at Whitehall Palace that his court was holding the great Christmastide festivities: Tonight was a masque, tomorrow a ball, and two days after Christmas, the King's young son was to be invested as the Duke of York.

  When Tabrizia and Magnus arrived at Whitehall Palace, the long throne room was ablaze with candles. The room already overflowed with people, yet more seemed to arrive by the minute. There was no room to dance, no room to sit, even, the standing-room atmosphere was conducive only to gossip, drinking and dalliance.

  In the center of the room, Queen Anne and her ladies were putting on a lavish masque. Tabrizia caught glimpses through the crowd. There were men dressed in exotic animal skins and women in costumes so brilliant in color and so richly embellished with jewels that the dazzling display caught and held her eye. Each player in turn took center stage to recite a monologue, but their voices were drowned out by the chatter and laughter of the crowd that thronged in front of the masquers.

  Tabrizia could see the tableaux represented the lion of Scotland and the leopards and Tudor roses of England, but the beautiful costumes took paramount attention. Magnus slowly made progress through the crowds with Tabrizia following. He knew none of the English, but all of the Scots, so it took him two hours to maneuver close to the King's dais. Magnus had spent enough time around the King to know that he preferred young men both in and out of bed, and he was not surprised to see the King now sat with his favorites close about him. Some he had brought from Scotland, others had been selected from the flower of the English aristocracy. His principal page, Sir John Ramsay, about eighteen with a girlish complexion, sat on his right, and Harry Wriothesley, the young. Earl of Southampton, lounged to the left,-making coarse jests about the play.

  Tabrizia was struck by how resplendently the men were dressed here at Court. Everyone wore cloth of gold, purple and scarlet. Doublets were stuffed and padded to exaggerate the size of men's chests, and their legs were more often than not covered with pied cloth, one leg a different color from the other. They made her father's attire plain and out of fashion by comparison.

  After a brief acknowledgment by the King, Magnus took Tabrizia's hand and led her back down the room. By chance he spied his sister-in-law, Katherine, and parted the crowds to get to her.

  "Magnus, how wonderful to see you. Thank you for bringing Stephen to London, you know I appreciate it well."

  "Kate, I am equally as pleased to see you. I brought my daughter to court, but I fear she will be lost in the crowd."

  Katherine smiled at Tabrizia. "Come to Somerset House tomorrow. The Queen keeps her own establishment there. You know it-- just along the Strand. It's called Denmark House now. The Queen only makes a token appearance at these great festivities, then retires to her own court where the atmosphere is much more delicate and feminine. We are leaving now before the horseplay gets out of hand, and I'd advise you to do likewise."

  To Tabrizia it had been a most exciting and fascinating time. She would need time to sort everyone out. She leaned her head back against the velvet squabs of the carriage. Tomorrow promised to be another new adventure. She was more than willing to meet it halfway.

  For her presentation to Queen Anne, Tabrizia chose a gown of pale apricot velvet with cream satin ribbons, which fastened high beneath the bosom, drawing attention to her breasts without being low-cut enough to reveal them.

  Katherine Galbraith had been watching for the earl, and led them upstairs to a vast receiving room lined with mirrors. The Queen was very popular here in England, and for this reason alone the King tolerated her and paid for her extravagant life-style. They had a great personal loathing for each other and were happy with the arrangement of entirely separate households. The room was filled with the tinkling laughter of a feminine atmosphere, although many young men were present. Spicy wit prevailed in place of bawdy jests, and Magnus relaxed his guard as Tabrizia was introduced to the maids of honor. The Queen had some ladies from Scotland and some from England, the youngest of whom was dark and vivacious, Frances Howard. She also had some maids of honor from Denmark, all extremely pretty blonds with long, slim legs and delightful accents.

  Katherine Galbraith convinced Magnus that he could safely leave his daughter and she would take her under her wing. He was wise enough to realize Tabrizia would attract more suitors without her father at her elbow.

  Tabrizia, observing Queen Anne at close range, saw that her skin was like white alabaster and that she was full of life and energy. She never arose before noon, but she stayed up all night, every night, and danced until dawn. The ladies of the Court were extremely sophisticated and seemed years older than Tabrizia, but she was the only redhead in the room, and soon attracted the attention of a young English noble. When he generously complimented her dress, she was momentarily unsure if he was mocking her girlish attire.

  She smiled enchantingly. "I feel almost a child beside such worldly ladies of the Court."

  You have a woman's body"— he smiled—"and a woman's mouth." Before she could object, he bent his head and stole a kiss from her.

  She gasped. "I don't even know your name, sir!"

  "It's Pembroke, my darling," he replied. lightly.

  At that moment the doors were flung open unceremoniously, and King James lurched into the room. "You, Annie." He pointed a rude finger at the Queen, who shuddered with distaste. "I'll hae a word wi' you. Ye've been damned uncivil to young Southampton. Insulted the laddie, and I'll no put up wi' it!"

  Anne's eyes blazed her anger. "He is a troublemaker, a drunken lecher and everyone knows he's a...a..." With great difficulty she bit back the fatal word. "Sire, he has gotten one of my ladies with child. I have forbidden him at my Court."

  Tabrizia could not believe that this shambling creature was a King and that he would speak to the Queen, in such a manner before everyone present. Pembroke's eyes laughed down into hers at the outrageousness of the situation that was unfolding in their presence. He dipped his head and whispered into here ear, "Pity us, lady. We were such proud Elizabethans. We simply did not know what to make of this Scottish oddity."

  Tabrizia did not dare to laugh aloud. She gave Pembroke a sharp tap with her fan and spread it open to conceal her mouth, the corners twitching upward uncontrollably.

  When Queen Anne beckoned her, Katherine took Tabrizia forward for the formal presentation. "You will be a lovely decoration for my Court. I will appoint you extra lady-in-waiting, since so many of m
y ladies find themselves... indisposed, shall we say?" Everyone laughed at the allusion. Tabrizia realized it was a great honor. As Katherine led her away she said, "Thank God you had the sense to accept graciously. There are so many ladies, you will only need to attend her one or two days a week. The Queen is popular here in London, though she is extravagant and pleasure-loving. I'm certain you will enjoy your stay at Court. Come, little one, I will find you a bedchamber for the nights you will be on duty."

  Frances Howard came with them, and Tabrizia was happy that their rooms adjoined. They were richly appointed chambers on the top floor of Denmark House. Not overly large but filled with every luxury a lady could desire, and each boasted its own small fireplace to make the rooms snug and warm.

  Magnus seemed satisfied, and arranged to have part of her wardrobe transferred to Denmark House. He advised her to have some new gowns fashioned now that she had seen what was in style at Court. Personally, he did not approve dresses so low-cut and underpinned with whalebone to thrust out the breasts, but if the Queen wore these things herself to set the fashion, what did his opinion matter?

  The Queen was expecting her brother on Christmas Day. Duke Ulric of Holstein and his Danish entourage had arrived and were staying at the King's Palace of Whitehall. They had been invited for the investiture of young Prince Charles as the Duke of York. Queen Anne called all of her ladies into service in preparation for her brother's visit to Denmark House. When Tabrizia entered the Queen's bedchamber, clothes and furs were strewn everywhere, and two little lap dogs ran about happily. Anne strolled about en deshabille. All she wore were a dozen rings and bracelets as she discarded one choice of dress after another. Tabrizia couldn't believe her eyes as one of her women began to paint the Queen's breasts. The latest fad apparently was to paint on blue veins and then paint the aureoles scarlet or gold. When the Queen was done, the ladies-in-waiting painted each other's breasts to match. Tabrizia thought it a hideous fashion and declined when Frances Howard offered to gild her nipples for her.

  The Danes were enormous blonds, built like oxen and flamboyantly dressed. Anne had instructed her ladies to amuse her brother's entourage and make them feel welcome. She had arranged a costly entertainment for the Danes, which was presented in the grand ballroom of Denmark House. Tabrizia could make little better sense of it than the masque she had seen at Whitehall, except that it had an Oriental flavor. The Danish gentlemen, however, relished every moment, especially the part where the Chinese bandits tore the skirts from the maidens they had captured, leaving them bare-limbed and blushing with feigned modesty. They roared with laughter at the antics of a dragon that sprayed claret wine, and the celebrations went on into the night.

  CHAPTER 12

  The investiture of the Duke of York took place in Westminster Abbey, which was very close to the King's Palace of Whitehall. Nevertheless, it necessitated a procession of ornate, gilded coaches, platoons of Royal Horse Guards, scarlet-coated Yeomen of the Guard, and endless boys' choirs from every church and cathedral in London.

  The procession was late starting because of all the squabbling over precedence. The King's pecking order of young men who were in favor changed so rapidly that in the end they had to be lined up according to rank, which was the traditional way it had been done for centuries.

  In the evening there was a banquet at Whitehall where three thousand guests had been invited to dine. All the banqueting halls were thrown open for the occasion with every guest hoping to dine in the same hall as the royal personages. The Queen insisted on a dais of her own that would accommodate her maids-of-honor.

  Tabrizia decided that she would be safer with Magnus at her side. When Stephen Galbraith joined his mother Katherine, Tabrizia suggested they sit together and, tucked between Stephen and-her father, she settled back to enjoy the food and the spectacle that was unfolding before her.

  The young prince, clad from head to toe in white satin, was brought in with a dozen young gentlemen attendants, all similarly dressed. Then came the Queen with six attendants in matching royal purple robes. Anne's dress was made from heavy gold brocade. She wore a golden crown encrusted with garnets and rubies. Tabrizia wondered how her ladies had managed to adorn her with every piece of jewelry she must own. Each finger boasted at least three rings, and her arms were encased in bracelets from wrist to elbow.

  Next followed the Danish entourage of Duke Ulric of Holstein. It seemed to Tabrizia that each group that entered was more lavishly dressed than the one preceding. Ulric wore cloth of silver, slashed with scarlet, while his gentlemen wore exactly the opposite—scarlet tunics, slashed with silver.

  The King shambled about in stained doublet and old carpet slippers. He was drum-full of wine, yet his shrewd eyes went from one to another and missed nothing that happened in that vast assembly.

  Katherine kept them enthralled with gossip of the Court and tales of the things that had happened when the Queen came from Scotland. "The late Queen Elizabeth had left over two thousand dresses, so James had the most exquisite ones picked out and sent them to meet Anne as she traveled down from Scotland. Anne refused to meet the English countesses James had sent and said she didn't want used clothing! Oh, I tell you there were some battles royal when we first arrived."

  "What happened to the dresses?" asked Tabrizia, fascinated.

  "Ah, when Anne discovered most of the gowns were encrusted with precious jewels, she soon took them into her treasury."

  The food had been designed to appeal to the eye rather than the palate, with jellies dyed every hue of the rainbow. By the time it reached the guests, it was cold and congealed, though most people had imbibed so much wine by this time, they hardly noticed. The young men on the King's dais had drunk so deep that the horseplay was getting out of hand. They were riding around on each other's backs, waging a mock battle of pushing and shoving. Then a food fight broke out, and they pelted each other with buns and cakes. Magnus was disgusted with the antics and looked toward the doors to see if they could push through the throng and make their escape, when all of a sudden the main doors to the banqueting hall were thrown open and a dozen pipers skirled a rousing lament to announce some guests of paramount importance. A swarthy young man of about thirty years, with smoldering good looks, entered the hall and paused dramatically. He had a long black mustache, and steel gray, level eyes. He was dressed in old-fashioned, sober black velvet with a Tartan banner across his chest. At his back were seven brothers, made in his image, ranging between the ages of twelve and his thirty years. At their heels was a pack of a dozen stag hounds that went everywhere with them. He walked in now, utterly assured, as if Whitehall and the world belonged to him.

  "Whoever is it?" asked Stephen, completely impressed.

  "It is Patrick Stewart. He is Earl of the Orkney Islands and Lord of Zetland. I once met him at Court in Edinburgh," Magnus informed them.

  Tabrizia sighed. "That is what a King should look like."

  Magnus chuckled. "Ye've almost hit the nail on the head, lass. Patrick is the son of James V. He would be our king except for the fact that he is illegitimate. He lives like a king, anyway. The Orkney Islands and Zetland are his kingdom, and he rules there, make no mistake."

  As Patrick Stewart made his way to the King's dais, the guests ceased their antics to gaze wide-eyed at the authoritative figure. When he spoke, one could have heard a pin drop in the great hall. "Ye are in the presence of your monarch, King of Scotland, England, Ireland and France. Don't ever forget it! Sit down and behave with decorum."

  The young men sat down and looked to James for his reaction.

  "Aye, Patrick has the right of it. You laddies take too much for granted. I am over soft wi' ye, and ye take advantage." There was no love lost between the King and Patrick Stewart. The King knew well, when he was compared physically to Patrick, that he came off the loser, but never by word or deed had Patrick ever given him cause to think that he coveted his crown. From time to time the King had trumped up charges against Patrick such as wit
chcraft, but when Patrick left for his Orkney Islands, the charges were dropped because the truth of it was that the long arm of the King's justice could not reach into Patrick's kingdom. The Earl of Orkney bowed low before the Queen, then he took her hands and brought them to his lips. Anne was all smiles. She had a great fondness for this dark, virile man.

  In spite of the exhausting state ceremony and the tiring banquet, Anne took her ladies and retired to her own Court to dance, flirt and gossip the night away. Frances Howard had a laugh that tinkled like silver bells. She was never at a loss for a partner. She confided to Tabrizia, "I take my pleasure where I find it. Nevertheless, being a Howard, I am expected to make a great marriage. I am betrothed to Northumberland, which will unite the great house of Howard with the great house of Percy. I am just a political pawn and shall do as I'm told, but in the meantime...in the meantime!"

  The following evening when Pembroke arrived and walked a direct path to Tabrizia, she was flattered and had to admit to herself that she was pleased to see him.

  "Tabrizia, walk with me. We are ever in a crowd."

  "There is safety in numbers, milord." She smiled.

  "Let me give you a tour of Denmark House. There are rooms you've never even seen, I wager. Did you know, for instance, that there is a chapel deep below ground, under the reception rooms?"

  She laughed. "I did not realize you were religious, sir!"

  "Stop teasing me. I'm living the life of a monk, and you know damned well you are to blame." His look became intense.

  "Did you not tell the I was a refreshing change? Unique, in fact?"

  "You are lovely, my darling, but I want you."

  "Ah, you wish to marry me?" she teased, eyes sparkling.