Philippa

by Bertrice Small

  “Do not Banon and Bessie make you happy too?” Philippa mischievously baited him with a grin.

  “Sometimes, and sometimes not,” the lad told her plainly, and he grinned back.

  Philippa curtseyed again. “I will leave you and mama to your reunion, Logan. Brothers, you must go to the kitchen where cook has a treat for you after your long ride. I must go and speak with Uncle Thomas.” She shooed her brothers in the direction of the kitchen stairs, and then moved gracefully across the hall to where Lord Cambridge awaited her return, seated in a tapestry-backed chair, a goblet of wine held in his elegant beringed hand. Philippa sat down opposite him, and looked questioningly at him.

  “How can you help me so I may escape the tedium of this glorified sheep farm?” she demanded of him.

  “You are so impatient, dear girl,” he said in an amused tone. The jewels on his fingers twinkled as he raised the goblet to his lips to drink.

  “Uncle, I am bored. I have been home these six weeks now. August is coming to an end. I want to go back to court.”

  “And so you shall, my pet, for I can see quite clearly that Friarsgate is not the place for you. How diverting I find that, remembering your mother in her youth. There she was in the midst of the center of the earth, as you so succinctly put it. And what did she want? Nothing more than to return to Friarsgate while you, her eldest child, want nothing more than to escape it.” He chuckled, and then he grew serious. “Now tell me, Philippa, do you mean it when you tell Rosamund that you do not want Friarsgate? Do you mean it truly, or is it just that you are having an attack of exasperation over the disappointment Giles FitzHugh visited upon you? I want the truth, Philippa. What I do to help you will depend upon what you tell me now.”

  “I do not want Friarsgate, uncle. I do not!” Philippa said.

  “It is a great inheritance, dear girl. Are you sure you would give it up?” he queried her further.

  “Aye, I would give it up! What good is it to me? It is far too far from the king and the court. I prefer living at the court. But if Friarsgate becomes my responsibility I cannot live at court. I know the obligations involved in being the heiress of an estate like this, uncle. I do not want those duties. I prefer to serve the queen.”

  He was silent and thoughtful for a long few minutes. To his surprise Philippa remained quiet as well. Finally Lord Cambridge said, “If you do not want Friarsgate, my darling girl, then what do you want other than to live at court, and serve the queen?”

  “Oh, uncle, I know that you and my mother have made a success of your cloth trade. Could you not spare some of your combined wealth for me? A respectable dower and a small income would suit me well. And it is all I need to live at court, and to pay my servant her yearly wage.”

  “What of a husband, Philippa?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “I have spoken enough with my mother over these last weeks to know that I have never really been in love with anyone, least of all Giles FitzHugh. If he had come home to wed me I should have done so, and thought myself happy. Perhaps for a few years, but perhaps forever. Who can say, uncle? But while I have been considered an heiress, a northern estate is of no use to me. So I will content myself with a smaller portion. If one day there is a man who will love me, and I him, then at least I may offer that man a respectable dower portion. There are plenty like me at court, uncle, as you would certainly know from your own time there. My father was such. His marriage to mama took him from loyal obscurity to the rank of a landowner. Perhaps there is a man at court with a small home who would be happy to have a wife like me. I do not scorn marriage.”

  “But you are a proud girl, Philippa,” Lord Cambridge reminded her. “Would simplicity truly suit you, I wonder.”

  “What other choices do I have, uncle?” she asked him frankly.

  “We shall see, darling girl,” he told her. “Now, promise me, Philippa, that you will trust me to aid you. That you will cease quarreling with your two sisters, for Banon is my heiress, and I will have no one gainsay her. And Bessie is your stepfather’s especial pet, being the only girl at Claven’s Carn. If you wish to have your own way in this matter then you must allow me to resolve it.”

  “And I will go back to court, uncle?” she asked him anxiously.

  “You will go back, and in time for the Christmas revels, I promise you, darling girl,” he said. “Now tender me your pledge, Philippa Meredith, and give me your hand in token of that pledge.” He offered his own hand, and she put her small one in it.

  “I will trust you, uncle, and I will try not to be so difficult,” she promised him.

  “Good!” Lord Cambridge answered her.

  “Can you tell me what it is you plan?” Philippa asked eagerly.

  “It is far too soon, and there are certain things I must set in motion first,” he said.

  Across the hall Rosamund watched her cousin as he engaged her daughter in earnest conversation. What was he planning? It had best be soon, for Logan was already importuning her to come home to Claven’s Cam. It was difficult to say no to him when he caught her gaze with those blue blue eyes of his that had always been her weakness. She had tried to explain how disappointed Philippa was over the FitzHugh boy, and how she had said she didn’t want Friarsgate.

  “The lass is daft with her displeasure,” Logan said. “Let her go back to court. She’ll come to her senses soon enough.”

  She hadn’t told him but now she had to. The tale of the Canted Tower was recounted, and Logan then said exactly what she had expected.

  “I know several lusty young men, sons of friends, who would gladly take the next lady of Friarsgate to wife. Obviously the lass needs to be wed, and quickly.”

  “Nay. It is more complicated than that, Logan. But Tom says he can solve the problem if we will but allow him. I would, for he has always been right in his judgments of difficult situations, my love.”

  The laird of Claven’s Cam nodded. “I must be honest with you, lovey. Philippa has always frightened me a wee bit, though I am shamed to admit it. She is but a lass, yet that air of determination she wears would terrify a stronger man than me. If Thomas Bolton believes he has a suitable solution to the problem then let him offer it, I say. I am willing to listen to anything he has to say. And then we may go home.”

  “Bide here with us a few days, my dear lord,” Rosamund said. “It is yet a few weeks to grouse season,” she teased gently. “Once I am home again I think I will be loath to travel abroad until I have birthed this son of yours that I carry. I am heavier and more tired with this bairn than with the others. I would name him Thomas, after my cousin, if you will. I think it is time I called a child for him who has been so good to me through all these years. Would you agree?”

  He nodded. “Aye. Tom is a good man for all his odd ways.”

  “Then you will be patient with me?”

  “Till the end of September, madame, and then you will come home to stay,” he told her with a small smile.

  Philippa’s conversation with Lord Cambridge had brought about a change in her attitude. She wasn’t certain what he was planning, but she knew whatever it was, it would be to her advantage. And so she tried her best to be kind to her sisters, but Bessie, it seemed, went out of her way to irritate Philippa and bait her into conflict. Banon, however, was a different personality, and the two sisters renewed their acquaintance while carefully avoiding Bessie and her wicked tricks.

  Banon loved hearing about the court. “I suppose I should go for a brief time,” she said one day as the two sisters sat together in the early September gardens. Around them the Michaelmas daisies were coming into early bloom. Above the plants fat bumblebees droned lazily while collecting pollen from the delicate blooms.

  “You would love it!” Philippa enthused.

  “Perhaps I would, but I must keep in mind that Otterly, like Friarsgate, is a northern estate. I will marry a man of the north, but a brief stay in the queen’s service would but add luster to my reputation, would it not, sister?�
�� Banon’s blue eyes looked at Philippa, thinking her deliciously sophisticated even in her simple country gown. Uncle Thomas had insisted Philippa have a country wardrobe made when he had first arrived. Banon always enjoyed being around Lord Cambridge when he was choosing fabric and discussing gowns with the seamstress. He had the most exquisite taste. “It is your hairstyle, I believe,” Banon suddenly said. “That is what gives you that air of glamour.”

  “I wear it down as do others,” Philippa said, “but I like that French style Annie showed to Lucy so long ago. It is very elegant.”

  “Uncle Thomas says I am too young yet for such a style,” Banon told her older sister. “Do you think he is right?”

  “Wait,” Philippa counseled her sibling. “There is time to look older, for that is what you want to do, isn’t it?” She smiled at Banon.

  Banon nodded. “How did you know?” she asked.

  “Because I felt the same way when I went to court for the first time, but Lucy advised me to keep my hair down always so I might look younger, and none would trifle with me. She said I needed to learn the ways of the court first, and that would give me time. She was right, of course, but when you come to court you will have me to watch over you. And my friends too.”

  “You are anxious to return, aren’t you?” Banon said.

  “Aye!”

  “When will it be?” Banon asked.

  “I do not know. Uncle Thomas has said I must be patient, and he will solve the difficulty. I must trust that he will although I will admit to growing impatient of late,” Philippa admitted.

  The end of September came, and Logan Hepburn announced on Michaelmas that he would take his family home on the first day of October. “You are welcome to come, Philippa,” he told the girl.

  Stricken, she looked to Lord Cambridge.

  It was time, Thomas Bolton thought, and then he began to speak. “I think I have the answer to the difficulties that the FitzHughs have unwittingly caused our own family,” he began.

  “Tell us!” Rosamund said eagerly.

  “The solution may not please everyone, but it will please Philippa, dear cousin, and it is her happiness we must concern ourselves with now. Would you not agree?” His eyes met hers sympathetically, and Rosamund knew she was not going to like what he said, but she nodded in the affirmative. “Philippa has said most strongly that she does not wish the burden of Friarsgate on her shoulders. She feels her happiness lies at court, and not here in Cumbria. We have discussed this several times over the last few weeks, and her mind is quite made up in the matter.”

  “Not want Friarsgate? The lass is daft!” Logan said, half angrily, and knowing how this was hurting his beloved Rosamund. What the hell was the matter with Philippa? He should have made a match for the lass himself, and had her married off with no nonsense about it, but Rosamund would not allow it. Now look what was happening!

  “And what conclusions have you come to, Tom?” Rosamund asked her cousin. She was very pale, and her voice was almost frail.

  “We must allow Philippa to find her future at court, which is what she wants. As she has pointed out to me, cousin, you and I have profited very well from our cloth trade. We will take some of this profit and give Philippa a generous dower portion. And I will find a small estate in the south that I can purchase for her. That way she will be landed as well as dowered. Under those circumstances a husband can certainly be found for her, for she must be wed like all respectable lasses. And she will have the time she needs to choose a man who, like her, prefers life and service at court. There are many such couples at court, dear girl, as we both know. I think this is the perfect solution to all our problems. Will you agree?”

  “But what of Friarsgate?” Rosamund said softly.

  “What of Friarsgate?” Philippa exploded. “What of me, mama? Can I not just this once come before your damned Friarsgate?” She was near to tears.

  Rosamund looked stricken at the rebuke.

  “Do not speak to your mother in that tone, Philippa Meredith!” Logan Hepburn roared. He put a protective arm about his wife. “She has given her life to Friarsgate and its well-being. Yet you stand there boldly and throw the gift she would give you back in her face. I do not understand you, lass.”

  “Nay, you don’t,” Philippa agreed angrily. “None of you do except Uncle Thomas! What is so difficult for you to understand? I am like my father, Owein Meredith. I am happy to be in service to my queen as he was content to be in service to his king. But I cannot do that if I am burdened with Friarsgate.” She turned to her mother. “You will, God willing, live many more years, mama, but the truth is that you are spending less and less time at Friarsgate, and Friarsgate needs its mistress. Your husband is a Scot. Your sons are Scots. Two of Owein Meredith’s daughters are grown now, and Banon is already mistress of Otterly. She is happy to be so, and has told me she will wed a northerner one day. I wish to remain in the south. Please, I beg of you, let me do so. I would rather be dead than take on the responsibility of Friarsgate. Let me go, mama. Let me go, and be happy as you have been, as you are, happy.” Philippa’s hazel eyes were wet with unshed tears. She held out her hands in supplication to her mother.

  Her daughter’s words had been like knives cutting her to pieces. What had it all been for if not for her children? She had so carefully husbanded and protected Friarsgate and its people. What had it all been for then? But Philippa’s face told Rosamund that she could not, would not, be moved in her determination. Well, there was always Banon. She could one day care for both estates. But now was not the time to discuss it, Rosamund knew. She was tired with this confinement, and depressed by what was happening. She didn’t want to discuss it any longer. She focused her amber eyes on her eldest child. “You are certain?” she asked, knowing, as she did, the answer.

  Philippa nodded.

  “Then go and find your own happiness, Philippa. I will not stop you.” She turned to her cousin. “What would I do without you, Tom? You will handle all the arrangements in this matter?”

  Thomas Bolton came and sat next to Rosamund. He took her hand in his, and kissed it tenderly. “I will make everything perfect, darling girl,” he promised her, keeping her little hand in his embrace. “Why, it is long past time I paid a visit to court. I find I am growing bored, and need the company of clever amusing people for a time again. And Banon must come with us. A bit of polish will do her no harm. And who knows? One of the northern families may be at court seeking to find a pretty, rich wife for one of their younger sons. The match must be made when we can make it, Rosamund. Your hesitation with Philippa was a mistake. Would you not agree?”

  She nodded. “Aye, it was.”

  “But I will repair the damage done, darling girl,” he told her cheerfully. “Now you must go home to Claven’s Carn, and be cosseted by this man of yours until this next son of yours is born. I think you have borne enough bairns now, Rosamund.” He kissed her little hand again and released it, turning to Logan Hepburn as he did so. “Four healthy sons is more than many men have, Logan. Remember that you must provide one way or another for them all. And think how lonely your old age would be, my good friend, if you were alone.”

  “I suspect I will never be alone as long as you live, Cousin Tom,” the laird of Claven’s Cam said with a grin, “but I agree that four lads is a goodly number.”

  “Rosamund?” Lord Cambridge looked at his cousin questioningly.

  She nodded. “Neither of you will be without me in our old age,” she said, and the color was coming back into her pale cheeks, and a small smile was turning up the corners of her mouth. “Forgive me for frightening you both. I am just more tired this time than I have been in the past. I must remember I am no longer a girl.” She laughed. “And too, the shock of Philippa’s decision has not been easy.”

  Philippa came and knelt by her mother’s knee. “Mama, I am sorry for my words. You know that I love you, but I am different than you are. Strange, isn’t it, that you who raised me with such a strong sense
of duty should be surprised when that duty would take me elsewhere. Yet it has, and my sense of responsibility in my service to the queen is every bit as strong as yours is for Friarsgate. Can you understand that?” The young woman looked anxiously into her mother’s face for some sign of comprehension.

  “I suppose,” Rosamund said softly, “that that is a mistake many parents make. They expect their children to be as they are because they have raised those children with their values. Yet when a child interprets those values differently we are surprised.” She smiled at Philippa, and put a gentle hand on her face. “You have fought every bit as hard for what you want, my daughter, as I did for what I wanted. I cannot fault you then, can I? You go with my blessing, Philippa Meredith, even if I am saddened by your decision. You were born of the love I had for your father. I would do his memory a great disservice if I did not allow you that which would make you happy.”

  “Thank you, mama!” Philippa said, and the joy in her voice was most evident.

  “Well, thank heavens that is settled now, my darling girls,” Lord Cambridge said with a feigned sigh of relief. “God’s foot, my dear! There is ever so much to do before we dare show ourselves in public. Banon must have a whole new wardrobe of gowns for court, wouldn’t you agree, Philippa dearest? And I shall have to dig into my coffers for jewelry. And while I know your garments are awaiting you at the London house, Philippa, surely you could do with a few new gowns yourself, my pet? And men’s fashions have certainly changed in the last several years. Philippa, you will have to direct my tailor. I will not appear before the king unless I am certainly dressed as has always befitted my reputation as an elegant gentleman. Will you come with us to Otterly so all these preparations may be effected? It is a bit south, so you will be even closer to your beloved court.” He chortled. “Rosamund, my angel, it is just like the bad old days, and I can hardly contain myself considering the adventures to come!”