“Mistress Broom is lodged in the royal chamber as you instructed me, my lord.” The boy flopped down on the log next to his lord. Vixen pushed her needle nose under his arm, then laid her sleek head on his lap. She closed her eyes with contentment when Andrew began to stroke her flank.
Thomas drew in a deep breath. “What do you think of her?” he asked, not looking directly at the youth. Andrew was too clever for his own good, and could read his master’s face as easily as Thomas could read Greek poetry.
The squire chuckled. “She is bonny and fair, and a perfect match for you—aye, especially in bed. Hip to hip, knee to knee—”
Thomas cuffed him. The boy toppled backward off the log. Vixen bestowed a reproachful look on Thomas for interrupting Andrew’s massage.
“You will speak with a civil tongue in your head when you speak of Mistress Alicia,” Thomas growled. “Remember, she is under my protection.”
He thought of her lovely eyes looking into his very soul, and of her slim body, draped in green. His manroot tightened between his legs. By the book, what witchery had Alicia wrought upon him in so short a time?
Andrew stretched out on the leafy ground where he lay. Lacing his fingers together, he pillowed his head in his hands. Vixen curled up next to him. “Aye, my lord. Tell my Lady Isabel of your chivalrous inclinations. Methinks she has already poured some of her venom into the shell pink ear of Mistress Alicia.”
Thomas groaned. If Isabel had not claimed she was ill with grief, he would have packed her off on a posthorse to her father’s home right after the funerals were over. The woman made his skin crawl. What’s more, she hated his dogs, and the feeling was returned tenfold by the three canines.
“So Madam Spider has already stretched out her web? What happened?”
Andrew sucked air through his teeth. “I do not know. Lady Isabel trapped Alicia in her lair for a private conference. By the time I could get close enough to overhear their conversation, ‘twas finished.” He sat up. “When Mistress Broom left my lady’s chambers, I saw that she fought back tears. Nearly ran me over in her flight. And yet…” Pausing, he smiled with the look of a contented cat.
“What?” Thomas snapped. He had no desire for this young jackanapes to fall in love with his betrothed. By the rood, Alicia was his.
Andrew blinked. “She stopped, and apologized very prettily to me as if I were the lord mayor of York. Alicia may be a merchant’s daughter, but she has the manners of a noble lady.”
“Humph.” Thomas chewed on his lower lip. “Just remember, maltworm, Mistress Alicia will be the Countess of Thornbury.” That title sounded very odd on his tongue.
“Not if Isabel has her way,” the squire replied softly.
“How now?” Thomas bellowed.
“Methought I heard Lady Isabel say that she would wed you before Advent. And she called you her darling Thomas.” Andrew made a face as if the words tasted bitter. “By my troth, my lord, I would not mingle my blood with hers in a basin, much less in bed. I often wondered how your brother could stand her.”
“They were a matched pair,” Thomas muttered, scooping up Tavie with one hand.
“Aye.” Andrew dismissed the couple with a graceful gesture. “’Tis said they matched very well in amorous pursuits.” He ducked when Thomas tried to cuff him again. “Peace, my lord. I speak only the truth. If you are to marry Mistress Alicia, then ‘tis time you thought of bedsport for yourself. I have had some experience in this area, sir. ‘Tis a very pleasant occupation.”
Thomas scratched Tavie’s belly, and pretended to ignore Andrew’s last remark. Only his squire knew of Thomas’s chosen celibacy. At least, Andrew had the wit to keep his observations private. Everyone else at Wolf Hall, from the steward to the scullery maid, imagined Thomas was a stallion like his lusty brothers. In actual fact, the female of the species scared the living hell out of him.
Andrew jumped up from the ground, then brushed the clinging bits of leaves and pine needles from his expensive clothes. “’Tis suppertime, my lord.”
Recognizing one of his favorite words, Tavie yipped several times. Then he licked his master’s hand before springing to the ground. Thomas regarded his smallest dog with open fondness. “Now you have done it, Andrew. Taverstock will give me no peace until he can dance attendance under the table.”
He stood up from the rough bark log that had been his afternoon’s retreat, and rubbed his backside. “I suppose the ladies are expecting me to sup with them?”
Andrew’s eyes danced with merriment. “Aye, my lord. Methinks they have already drawn up their lines of battle. Their weapons will be winsome looks and sharpened wit. ‘Twill be a rare treat to watch.”
Thomas groaned. “Perchance I will take supper in my chamber.”
“Coward!” the boy whispered, dancing out of his lord’s reach.
Thomas studied the purple twilight as it crept across the sky. The evening star winked back at him. “Aye, you speak the truth. I have never run from a fight, Andrew, and I am not about to start now. Lead me on to these warring females, but, by the book, do not leave me alone with them!”
Alicia stood at the high-arched window of her chamber. Drawing in a deep breath of the cool evening air, she savored the unfamiliar scents of wet earth, fields of new-mown hay and the sharp tang of woodsmoke that curled up from the blacksmith’s forge. Everything seemed so fresh and clean in the country after a lifetime spent within the walls of York. Alicia stared at the farthest tip of the horizon, and prayed that Sir Edward and Lady Katherine had arrived in good time at their rendezvous on the North Sea coast. A thick lump rose in her throat. She might never again hear Katherine’s sweet singing while she went about her chores. Never again feel Edward’s whiskery good-night kisses on her cheeks. A tear burned her eyelids.
Do not be a goose, Alicia. What is past is past. Look to the future. You are mistress of your own fate now. Tears are not going to win Thomas. You must be strong. Everything depends upon it.
The huge mastiff at her feet looked up at her with an expectant expression.
Bending over, Alicia scratched his tawny back. “What is it, Georgie? Is your master coming?”
Georgie rose and padded over to the closed chamber door.
Alicia studied his behavior. “Is someone out there?” she asked in a low voice.
The dog gave himself a shake, as if to banish the last vestiges of his afternoon nap. He continued to stare at the door.
Has that awful Lady Isabel set one of her minions to spy upon me? Alicia tiptoed across the wide, smooth floor. Without making a sound, Alicia put her hand to the latch. With a sudden twist, she yanked open the door. A young girl with a tousled mane of flaxen hair fell across the threshold. Georgie greeted her with slobbering kisses.
“How now?” Putting her hands to her hips, Alicia regarded her surprise visitor. “And who might you be?”
The girl laughed in answer as she hugged the huge dog. “I wager that Georgie told you I was here,” she said, pulling herself into a sitting position.
Her pretty gown of dove gray silk and linen showed signs of an active day spent out-of-doors. Smudges of dried mud decorated the hems of her skirts, and deep grass stains showed where the child had propped herself up on her elbows. ‘Twill be the devil to get those marks out of the cloth. What was her governess thinking to let her frolic in so fine a dress?
“Aye, Georgie is a wise animal,” Alicia replied. She crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for an introduction.
The girl hugged the great dog again. “I thought as much. Isabel says that he is useless because he is so old.