We reached London late on Saturday and remained there for the Sabbath. With nearly forty people in the retinue and almost sixty horses, we moved at a snail’s pace when we set out again on Monday. We did well to cover twenty miles in a day. If I had not had one Dudley brother riding on each side of me, vying for my attention and entertaining me with stories both real and cribbed from books they’d read, the four days that followed would have bored me to tears.
By the time we reached Woodstock, my back ached and my bottom was sore, even though Prancer had the gentlest of gaits. Although we’d had comfortable accommodations every night, either staying at one of Lord Lisle’s manors or at the country estate of one of his friends, I’d spent all the hours in between on horseback. I felt it in every bone of my body.
The road from the nearest town approached the royal manor of Woodstock from the east, winding past the privy gardens. I am certain they were an impressive sight, but I was too travel weary to care. Still, my first glimpse of the great house, solitary in a large park, had me staring like the simplest country bumpkin.
I’d visited the palace of Whitehall, and we passed Greenwich every time we made a trip to London. Woodstock could not compare to them, and yet there was something about this majestic structure that made a deep impression on me. Perhaps it was just that I knew this was the place where I would be presented to the queen, meet the king for the second time, and come in contact with all the other important and influential denizens of the court.
If I meant to become a courtier myself, I would have to be constantly on my guard lest I displease one of them. Even if I remained only a short time before I left to marry, I still had to be careful. My every action would reflect upon my family. My ability to make a good impression on the right people affected not only my future but also the future of my father and brothers. Suddenly I was beset by insecurity.
“What if no one here likes me?” I whispered to Jack Dudley. His brother had ridden ahead, impatient with the pace of the litter and baggage carts.
“How could anyone not think you were wonderful?” Jack asked.
My spirits soared, even though I knew his opinion to be biased. Banishing both doubt and fear from my thoughts, I rode boldly onward. Whatever happened next, it would be the start of a great adventure.
5
My first two days at Woodstock were a great disappointment. I spent most of that time in the cramped quarters assigned to Lady Lisle and in the even smaller space given over to her attendants. My assigned bedfellow and nearly constant companion was Lady Lisle’s other waiting gentlewoman, Bridget. She had the keeping of the viscountess’s jewels and was responsible for the care of her wardrobe and for dressing her person and her hair.
“What are my duties?” I asked her the first morning, after Lady Lisle had left her lodgings to wait upon the queen.
“You fetch and carry at my lady’s command. You make yourself available to do her bidding, day and night.”
I sighed. “In other words, I wait upon her whim. But what do I do when she is not here? She does not need me to run errands for her when she is with the queen. Does Lady Lisle spend a great deal of her time in Queen Kathryn’s company?”
Bridget rolled her eyes at my ignorance. “Lady Lisle,” she informed me, “is one of the queen’s inner circle of friends.”
“I am delighted to hear it.”
Bridget sighed. “Do not expect me to nursemaid you, Mistress Brooke.”
“Have pity, Mistress Mardlyn. I know nothing of the ways of the court. I would not want to embarrass our lady mistress.”
She gave me a sour look but condescended to explain the workings of the court to me. “You must keep to the schedule,” she warned when she’d given me a brief and far from illuminating account of the hierarchy of the royal household. “We rise at seven, dine at ten, and sup at four.”
“And in between meals? How am I expected to occupy my time as I wait for orders from Lady Lisle?”
“There is always mending.” Turning her back on me, Bridget unlocked Lady Lisle’s jewel box. Her task for the morning was to make certain every piece was accounted for after our journey.
“It is the job of the maids to do the mending.” Curious, I stepped closer. Inside the ornately carved wooden box, a series of nested drawers contained brooches and necklaces and rings. Each piece was stored in its own soft cloth pouch.
“Do you think yourself too highborn to ply a needle, Mistress Brooke?”
Stung, I considered offering to make clothing for the poor but stopped myself in time. I was living at the royal court. If I was to have leisure to amuse myself, I would engage in courtly pleasures. And I would not let a mere waiting gentlewoman spoil my enjoyment at being out in the world.
Plucking up my lute, I began to play a sad song about lost love. Bridget ignored me and continued to count pearls and diamonds, rubies and emeralds, sapphires and garnets. The goldsmiths’ work was intricate and beautiful and some of the lockets opened to reveal tiny portraits. I repressed an envious sigh. One day, I vowed, I would own jewelry just as beautiful.
In the meantime, as Lady Lisle’s waiting gentlewoman, I . . . waited. I remained in her lodgings while she attended the queen, even taking meals there, as Bridget and the two maidservants did. It was not forbidden for me to visit Queen Kathryn’s public rooms—the watching chamber, the presence chamber, and the privy chamber—but I had no good reason to go there, either. As I knew few people at court, I shied away from pushing myself forward. I wanted to be accepted, to have friends, but I was fearful of making a bad first impression.
By the third day, I craved the outdoors. Keeping a wary eye peeled for anyone who might object to my presence, I crossed the large, square outer court and skirted the kennels and the stables. I was tempted to stop and look for Prancer, but I was not quite brave enough to venture unescorted into such an all-male preserve as the stables. Instead, I set my course for the orchard.
Fruit trees stretched as far as I could see. A broad path followed the stone wall that surrounded them, encompassed by a low hedge of cornelian cherry trees and rose, gooseberry, and current bushes. At the outside of the orchard, damson, bullace, and tall plum trees had been planted. On the inside were low plum, cherry, apple, and pear trees, together with a few filberts and medlars. I wandered aimlessly for some time, wondering if it was treason to filch and eat one of the king’s apples. I decided not to take any risks and eventually abandoned the orchard for pleasure gardens full of knot beds and statues, sundials and mounts, shaded alleys, turfed seats, and even works of topiary. In places the wide, graveled walk-ways had been planted with wild thyme and other sweet-smelling herbs. They released a pleasant aroma when crushed underfoot.
The most colorful flowers of summer were long gone, but some varieties of rose still bloomed. Bright green plants grew in profusion—rosemary and lavender, myrtle and germander, too. I walked for nearly an hour among these familiar friends.
Although I saw other people out taking the air, I wasn’t brave enough to approach anyone. I returned to the cramped little room I shared with Bridget and the maids—they slept on the truckle bed—still starved for company. I needed friends. I craved laughter. But I lacked the courage to do so much as venture up the stairs that led to the queen’s apartments.
I pondered this as I lay awake, listening to Bridget snore. I had never been timid at home. What harm would it have done to speak to someone I met in the gardens? And if I ventured into the presence chamber, surely Lady Lisle would acknowledge me, perhaps even present me to the queen.