Page 26 of The Rose at Twilight

The whole company was seated at last. Throughout the hours of feasting they were entertained by jesters, singers, players, and musicians, who performed in a clearing in the center.

Alys enjoyed them all, but she was conscious the whole time of Sir Nicholas beside her, talking mostly to Madeline.

He made no effort to engage Alys in conversation, although he made an occasional polite comment and checked from time to time to be certain she had what food she needed.

The gentleman on her other side spoke to her often, and politely passed sauces when she required them, but the hours passed slowly.

She was glad when at last it was time for the royal couple to depart.

When the king stood and extended a hand to his bride, Madeline, who had been conversing gaily throughout the evening both with Sir Nicholas and the gentleman at her other hand, said suddenly, “Are we all expected to follow them, do you suppose? At home, when we have a wedding, everyone crowds around the marriage bed to drink toasts, shout advice, and fling gloves at the bride and groom. The first man who hits the groom’s nose is said to be the next to marry, and the same is said for the first lady to hit the bride anywhere at all. ”

Speaking across Sir Nicholas, Alys said tartly, “The same customs prevail in the north, Madeline, but one does not throw things at royal persons. ’Twould be unmannerly.”

“’Twould be treason,” Sir Nicholas said, grinning at one and then at the other.

When they had risen to their feet with the rest of the company, he added, “The king has decreed that there shall be no unseemliness tonight. All men are to be barred from the bedchamber as soon as his bride arrives. She will be brought to him by her women—only the married ones, of course—and he will receive her in his shirt, with his gown wrapped around him. She, too, will wear a gown. Then the bishop and chaplains will enter to bless the royal marriage bed, after which every man but the king must leave the room. Harry has also decreed that there shall be no posset-drinking in the bedchamber.”

“Goodness,” Alys said. “I hope he will not be disappointed if his orders are not obeyed. Many of the men are ape-drunk already, and I have never heard of a wedding where there was not a great deal of drunken foolishness to be tolerated. If the men are barred from the bedchamber, surely they will dance and carry on in the gallery and pound on the door of the chamber.”

“All will be as the king commands,” Nicholas said calmly, raising his cup when everyone else did to drink a toast to the bride and groom.

“I suppose it will,” Alys replied with a sigh, setting down her cup. “Do you go with the king’s men to the chamber, sir?”

He nodded, looking at her a little more sharply. “’Tis part of my duty to see his orders obeyed. You look tired, my lady. When do you take up your duties with the princess?”

“We join her ladies in waiting on the morrow.”

He was silent for a long moment, gazing at her as though he would speak again, as though, she thought, he meant to warn her to behave herself.

The thought irritated her, but when she stiffened defensively, intending to give as good as she got, he merely nodded again and disappeared into the crowd, leaving her with her emotions in a tangle.

One moment she hated him, the next she was annoyed when he paid her no heed.

She reminded herself that he was only a Welshman, a henchman of the enemy, but this time, the familiar phrases seemed to have no meaning.

Knowing that it would be unwise to remain with the revelers without a gentleman to protect them, she and Madeline retired soon afterward.

They had each been assigned a tiny chamber on the ladies’ side of the palace, and they arrived first at Madeline’s, where Elva was waiting.

Alys reluctantly bade her friend good night.

Though she was glad that all the ladies in waiting did not sleep in a common room, as the girls at Drufield had done, she was not looking forward to the loneliness of a solitary bedchamber after weeks spent in Madeline’s company.

When Alys turned away, Madeline said, “Shall I send Elva to help you when she is finished with me?”

Looking back, Alys shook her head. “I have been assigned a chambermaid who will undress me. Elva can stay with you.” Suddenly she missed Jonet more than she had in months, and turned swiftly away again, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

The maidservant who awaited her in her own chamber, farther along the gallery, had taken the liberty of lighting a tallow candle and the little room was filled with the acrid odor, and full of shadows as well, for the candle cast but a dim glow, and was neither welcoming nor as comfortable as the rooms she had shared with Madeline in the Tower.

Still, it was better than what she had had at Drufield, where the two other young women who fostered there and shared her bedchamber had made no secret of the fact that they disliked her as much as their mistress did.

When she entered, the maid scrambled up from the pallet on the floor where she had been sitting. “There be water for washing on the stand, m’lady,” she said in a hushed voice.

Alys scarcely had had time to note more than the girl’s plump figure and fair complexion earlier, for she and Madeline had dressed at the Tower and, upon their arrival at Westminster, had been shown to their bedchambers only long enough to note their location before being hustled down to the hall where the festivities had already begun.

Alys had not even had a chance to learn the chambermaid’s name. She asked now.

“I be Molly, m’lady, Molly Hunter. I’m ter see t’ yer clothes and ter fetch and carry fer ye. They did say ye’d no servants o’ yer own. Ladies in waiting mostly have dunamany servants, ’n some even have ter send some away. ’Tis a pity ye’ve none, but I’ll do what I can fer ye.”

“Thank you, Molly. Will you sleep here?”

“Bless you, mistress, but I’ve me own pallet in the servants’ hall. I’ll be back here come mornin’, afore prayers.”

Alys nodded. She had mixed feelings about the arrangement.

She did not really want the girl to stay, but neither did she want to be left alone.

It was the first time she had ever had a bedchamber all to herself, although she knew it was no longer such an odd thing for a person to sleep alone, not so odd as it had been in her father’s youth, at all events.

Taking what comfort she could in knowing that Madeline was not far away, she allowed the maid to undress her and prepare her for bed, then dismissed her.

Blowing out the lone candle was difficult, however, for it plunged the room into a blackness far beyond what she expected, and she realized then that the only window was high up in the wall and very small.

With a sigh, she lay down, pulled her quilt up, I tucked her hand beneath her cheek, and let the tears come. Not long afterward, she slept.

Molly woke her early in the morning with a ewer of water for washing and an offer of ale and beef to break her fast. Alys assented gratefully, and when the maid had gone again, jumped out of bed, shivering when her bare feet touched the stone floor, and raced to splash water on her face and to wash her hands.

When Molly returned with a wooden trencher piled with beef and bread, and a mug of ale, she placed them on a low boxlike table she dragged away from the wall.

Ladies in waiting were not provided with such luxuries as chairs, but there was a joint stool, and Alys, wrapped in a warm pink woolen robe, sat upon the stool to eat, watching while Molly searched through her things to find appropriate clothing for her.

Her belongings had been unpacked and placed in a large chest near the wall opposite the door.

Molly first shook out an apple-green wool kirtle; then, placing that carefully on the narrow bed, she got out a darker green velvet gown trimmed with lynx.

Both were garments Alys had had for some time, but their lines were simple, and the colors became her, so she made no objection to Molly’s choice, merely asking her to find a clean smock as well, since she had slept in hers and it was no longer fresh.

When she was dressed, she sat down again on the joint stool to let Molly attend to her hair.

This task was simple, requiring only that what little showed look smooth and neat and that her headdress be clean and modest. She knew from experience that Elizabeth would take exception to any garment more grand or more costly than what she wore, and she had no wish to draw the princess’s ire at this, the beginning of their new relationship.

Thus, when Molly unearthed the wire frame for her gauzy butterfly headdress, she did not object.

That the style was going out of fashion would render it acceptable in Elizabeth’s eyes, but it was becoming to Alys and would serve until she could get settled in and try to acquire some new things.

Since she was not by any means certain of how that last task was to be accomplished, she thought it best to tread softly for a time.

When she was dressed, Molly advised her to go along to the princess’s chamber as quickly as possible, lest she be late for morning mass.

Alys sighed. She had always thought herself properly devout but was beginning to think that the custom prevailing at court would require her to spend a good deal more time on her knees than she was accustomed to spend there.

She doubted that the notion was Elizabeth’s.

She did not remember Elizabeth as being more than ordinarily pious in her habits.

“Hears mass three times a day, does the princess,” Molly said. “The Lady Margaret said it were right and proper, but even the servants be a-hearing God’s word dunamany times a day now, m’lady. Can’t scarcely get our work done between, we can’t.”