Page 4 of This Heart of Mine (O’Malley Saga #4)

“But, sir,”

Velvet protested to the other gentleman, “I do not know you either!”

“That’s easy,”

Robert Devereux said. “Since we have now been properly introduced, may I introduce to you, Mistress de Marisco, Sir Walter Ralegh, the captain of the queen’s Gentlemen Pensioners. Wat, Mistress de Marisco. There! We’ve all been properly introduced and may now be friends.”

“My lord,”

Velvet scolded Essex, “I am not such a country mouse that I don’t know the queen dotes upon you. If you make her jealous, I shall be forbidden to accompany her, and then I shall have to …”

She stopped herself just in time. “My lords, the queen will miss you shortly. You had best hurry into the hall.” Then she moved to brush past them and catch up with her sister.

“Ah, fresh sweet meat,”

murmured the earl, blocking her path. “Perhaps the progress shall not be so dull this summer.”

“Robin, you’re mad! The maid is right, and well you know it.”

Ralegh admonished. “The queen does dote upon you, though why I cannot see when she has a far brighter fellow in me. Besides, I have heard the stories of this girl’s mother and father. Either one of them could have you for supper, my lord earl, and not even belch daintily afterwards.”

Velvet gazed at Ralegh with interest. He was older than the handsome earl, yet still a youngish man. Far more stylish than Robert Devereux, he wore a doublet of deep brown velvet richly embroidered with copper threads. It complemented his dark amber eyes and ginger-colored hair and beard. He was sturdier than Essex, but, though not as tall, he was even better proportioned with supremely elegant legs. She had never seen boots that fit so beautifully.

Suddenly mindful that her place was with Deirdre, Velvet boldly gave the earl a shove and hurried past him. Essex looked startled that she had laid hands upon him, but then he laughed.

“God’s foot, the de Mariscos seem quite fierce, Wat! Perhaps ’twould be best if we were just friends with the maid. Besides, virgins are so emotional.”

He chuckled, and then, arm in arm, the two courtiers made their way through the crowd entering the priory, in order to regain their places by the queen’s side.

Elizabeth Tudor was already in the Great Hall being offered refreshments by her host while the hostess had found her sister and was angrily reproaching her.

“How could you, Velvet!”

“How could I what , Deirdre?”

Deirdre sighed. “What are we to tell the Earl of BrocCairn when he arrives, Velvet? He is coming to marry you! You knew that!”

“Why is it,”

Velvet demanded, “that everyone is so concerned with the earl and his feelings, and no one thinks of me or mine? Mama and Papa made the match for me when I was just a child. I can’t even remember the man! Mama has said I should not marry without love, and, Deirdre, I will not! You certainly refused to do so. I will also not marry without my parents by my side, and it is several months until they will return. Perhaps I shall fall in love with the earl, but then again perhaps I won’t. Whether I do or not, I won’t be hustled willy-nilly down the aisle before I have at least been to court. I shall have my time at court, Deirdre, and this wild man from Scotland will be forced to wait upon me until my parents return, for it is a well-known fact that the queen does not like gentlemen poaching among her maids. I shall be safe with my royal godmother!”

She looked archly at her elder sibling.

“I am going to tell the queen, Velvet! You cannot embarrass us like this!”

“If you tell the queen, Deirdre, I shall flee to my grandparents in France and cause a great scandal! The betrothal will then be broken, and it will be all your fault! If my parents truly desire this match, they will not thank you for your meddling. I am as determined to have my way in this as you were to have yours in the matter of your marriage to John! We are sisters—with different fathers it is true—but the blood of our mother runs fiercely and hotly through both our veins. Why should I be any different in my desires than you were in yours?”

Velvet look searchingly at Deirdre. “Wouldn’t you rather I remained in England, safe with the queen?”

she wheedled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Damn you, you minx!”

Deirdre muttered. “Oh, all right! The earl doesn’t have to know that when you learned he was coming you practically begged the queen to become a Maid of Honor. Although you will give Uncle Conn a fit, sister!”

Then she giggled. “I should not like to be our poor uncle and have to tell the earl that you are not at Queen’s Malvern but rather with the queen, and therefore at the moment unavailable to wife. Lord, what a tangle!”

Conn St. Michael was, however, strangely unperturbed when he was told that evening of Velvet’s tactics. “She’ll be safe with Bess,”

he noted dryly. “Bless the little vixen for finding a way out of this herself.”

“Why, Uncle, you sound as if you approve of Velvet’s behavior,”

Deirdre replied, not a little shocked.

“Frankly, Deirdre lass, I didn’t like the idea of giving our Velvet over to BrocCairn in marriage without Skye and Adam here. Velvet’s actions have solved the problem for me. The queen will only give up her new Maid of Honor to her parents, certainly not to a Scots earl, especially with the maid objecting.”

The matter settled in his mind, Lord Bliss escorted his wife and niece down to the Great Hall for the feasting.

Elizabeth Tudor was just arriving as they hurried into the big room, which was lined with arch-shaped windows. The spring sunset turned the hall crimson, a brilliant hue echoed by the bright red flames in the four big fireplaces that took the chill from the room. Stepping forward, Conn knelt and raised the queen’s hand to his lips to kiss it slowly. A warm light sprang into her gray-black eyes.

“Conn, you devil,”

she murmured, remembering a romantic evening they had spent several years back before he had married Aiden.

“Bess, you’re as beautiful as ever,”

he said softly. “Still breaking hearts, lass?”

He stood, relinquished her hand, and glanced at Essex and Ralegh.

Elizabeth Tudor shook her head wonderingly. “God’s foot, Lord Bliss!”

she said. “You’re still an Irish rogue with a quicksilver tongue.”

“And a quicker wit,”

he parried, to the queen’s delight. “I hear my niece is to become one of your Maids of Honor.”

“Ah, Velvet. A lovely child! I am delighted to have her.”

“She has never been to any court, madame,”

he said softly. “She has never even been to London.”

“Nor Paris either?”

the queen queried him.

“Nor Paris either, madame. She is, despite her beauty, an innocent maid. She has been most sheltered.”

“Is she betrothed?”

“Aye, to the son of a friend of Lord de Marisco’s, but the wedding is not scheduled until after her sixteenth birthday.”

“I will be most careful with Velvet, my lord,”

said the queen, understanding his fears. “I will treat her as I would my own child, and in a sense she is just that, being my goddaughter. Did I not take good care of your wife, Aiden, when she was in my charge?”

“Aye, and thank you, madame,”

Conn said quietly. He had now done all he could, and they would simply have to wait for his sister and Adam to come home from their voyage. The responsibility was no longer his, and he sighed almost audibly in his relief.

Across the hall, Velvet had suddenly found herself swept up in the society of the court. Her head whirled from all the outrageous compliments she was bombarded with from the gentlemen of the royal party, who were intrigued by this new Maid of Honor. She did not simper like the other girls, but was rather outspoken in her speech without being forward or suggestive. Add to this the fact that she was extravagantly beautiful and an heiress to boot, and the gentlemen were willing to brave the queen’s wrath—at least as long as Elizabeth was across the room. Just when Velvet thought she could bear no more of the courtiers’ silliness, Sir Walter Ralegh and the young Earl of Essex arrived to take her away from the noisy crowd.

“So sorry, gentlemen,”

Essex said, laughing, “but Wat and I have taken it upon ourselves to protect this maiden and her virtue from all of you. Be warned that we think of her as we do our own dear sisters and woe to any of you who should dare to trifle with her. Unless, of course,”

he amended to general laughter, “she wishes to be trifled with!” Taking Velvet firmly beneath the elbow, he hustled her off to sit with Ralegh before the fire.

“You’re mad,”

she proclaimed.

“Aye, Mistress de Marisco, but admit that all those silly popinjays were boring you to death. I promise you that Wat and I shall be far more fun. Are you betrothed?”

“Why?”

Velvet demanded, looking at him suspiciously.

“Because, you silly puss, I would like to know what my chances are of being called out.”

“He’s in Scotland, my lord, and for your information I haven’t even the faintest idea of what he looks like, so to be overly discreet about you and Sir Walter would be a waste of my good time!”

Velvet replied pertly.

The two gentlemen laughed delightedly, and then Ralegh, who was Essex’s eider by some fifteen years, said, “Will you give us leave to call you Velvet? And you must call us Wat and Robin.”

“I have a brother, Robin, so, my lords, I shall call you Wat, and you Scamp, for you my lord earl I suspect of being a wicked fellow.”

She pierced Robert Devereux with a sharp look, and he had the good grace to flush.

Ralegh chuckled. “You are young, Velvet, and I suspect far too innocent for this fast and sophisticated court of Elizabeth Tudor’s; but you have a sharp eye to go with your quick mind. You are, I think, a survivor.”

At that moment, two young women came hurrying up to them, one a sweet-faced girl with long, poker-straight dark blond hair and calm gray eyes; the other a glorious creature whose thick golden blond curls ran riot and who had incredible turquoise-colored eyes. The darker-haired girl smiled shyly at Velvet and curtsied politely.

“I am Elizabeth Throckmorton, called Bess, one of the queen’s Maids of Honor. Her Majesty has put you in my charge, Mistress de Marisco. This is my friend, Angel Christman. We welcome you to court.”

Velvet returned the curtsy, saying, “Please call me Velvet, and I hope we shall be friends.”

“Lord, have mercy, what an innocent!”

cried the beautiful blonde.

“Angel! You must not frighten Velvet, for this will be her first time away from home.”

“Are you a Maid of Honor, too?”

Velvet asked the blonde.

Angel laughed. “Nay,”

she said. “I am merely a royal ward. My father was the younger son of a fairly respectable noble family who married the younger daughter of an equally respectable noble family. Sadly, they had no money, and when Papa discovered my mama engaged in less than circumspect behavior with a wealthy farmer, he killed her and her lover, then killed himself. He provided for me by asking in his will that the queen take me under her protection. Of course she could not refuse, and so I have been raised very nicely at court, and I shall have a much better dowry than if my parents’ families had taken me in. Positions such as you have obtained, Velvet de Marisco, are reserved for far nobler lasses than I.”

“Ah, but you’ve a noble spirit, Angel love,”

murmured Essex, lecherously slipping an arm about her tiny waist.

Angel harrumphed and slapped his arm away. “Unhand me, you satyr, lest you destroy my chances for a decent marriage. Strange as it may seem to you, my lord earl, no respectable man wants your leavings!”

“Angel!”

Bess Throckmorton looked shocked.

“Well, it’s true, Bess. You’ve a powerful family to protect you, but I must guard my own virtue and good name!”

“No man wants a shrew with a sharp tongue,”

countered Essex, “and that, my dear Angel, is what you are in danger of becoming.”

He looked extremely put out by her words, and Velvet hid a smile.

In an effort to change the subject, Bess Throckmorton said, “The queen has asked us to accompany you to your home tomorrow so that we may aid you in packing what is necessary for court. Is it far?”

“Nay, just a few miles. Do you ride?”

“Aye,”

both girls chorused.

“Good! Let’s start early then,”

said Velvet enthusiastically.

“We shall accompany you,”

Sir Walter promised. “Three maids riding alone is not wise.”

A contradiction sprang to Velvet’s lips, but then she considered how marvelous it would look to return to Queen’s Malvern in the company of two elegant gentlemen of the court. “Are you used to getting up so early?”

she teased them gently.

“Getting up? We shan’t even go to bed, sweetheart! Sleep is something one catches when one can at court. You’ll get used to it.”