Dragon's Court. Joanna Makepeace
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Sir Guy Jarvis arrive at Court dressed extravagantly and in the height of fashion. The King would be unduly suspicious about the source of such unusual wealth and would, no doubt, manage to find a reason for fining us again, more strictly this time. However, that is not my immediate concern.”
She cast a doubtful glance at her daughter. “I fear for Anne’s safety on the journey. Guy, you should not venture into London and there are still pockets of discontent throughout the realm and some masterless men preying on travellers, many of them unfortunate remnants of the battles of Redmoor and Stoke. I shall worry—and we all know that Anne can be her own worst enemy. She says straight out what she thinks, has no skill in subterfuge and knows nothing of the lies and intrigues which makes all Courts miasmas of fear and hatred.”
“Mother, I swear I will be discreet and docile,” Anne interposed. “I would not be so foolish as to anger Her Grace the Queen or place Father in a difficult position by unwise references to his former loyalties.”
Lady Jarvis sighed. “It is not so easy to change or disguise one’s nature as you think, my girl, and your promise still does not relieve me of alarm about your journey.”
Sir Guy said doubtfully, “I trust my men and she would have Mary Scroggins with her. The woman is sensible and reliable. Thank the Virgin she takes after her mother, Kate, rather than that rapscallion, Will, her father.”
“If it would relieve your mind, Lady Jarvis, I, myself, could escort Mistress Anne to London,” Richard offered. “Sir Guy knows I have business there and could see her safely installed at Court and report to you both about her reception and accommodation there on my way home to Yorkshire.”
Anne could not have been more astonished or dismayed by this announcement and was about to remonstrate when she saw that her parents were considering this offer with considerable favour.
“If you would do that, Dickon, it would certainly relieve me of one source of anxiety,” Sir Guy said. “Unless it would mean some measure of inconvenience to you or—” his eyes searched the other’s carefully “—some element of added danger.”
“No, no, sir,” Richard replied cheerfully. “I could see Mistress Anne and her maid safely bestowed and take lodgings in London for a few weeks and keep a careful eye on the situation. If I had any cause for concern I could inform you immediately and, if necessary, take steps to remedy the matter.”
“But I would not wish—” Anne stared rebelliously at their visitor whose restricting presence on this fascinating adventure awaiting her was the very last thing she wanted. Then she realised that her father’s consent to this journey could only be gained by her willing acceptance of Richard Allard’s offer of escort and she finished lamely, “If Master Allard’s business will not be put out by this arrangement, then I shall be glad of his company on my ride south.”
Sir Guy lifted his two hands as if he was helpless to object and Lady Jarvis nodded briskly at her daughter.
“Go up to your chamber, Anne, and ask Mary to come to me in the solar. We cannot insist that she go with you. We must give her the opportunity to refuse if she is so minded though, I admit, I hope she will be willing. I would not wish you to be in any other woman’s charge during these next months.”
She rose as Anne did with alacrity. “The Queen’s messenger requested that you set out for Westminster as soon as can be arranged in order to be there when young Lady Philippa arrives. Since that is so there is a great deal to be done in preparation.”
Anne rushed towards her father and planted a kiss upon his cheek. He grinned broadly though pushing her gently aside.
“There, minx, it looks as if you will get your way as usual. Mind, I expect you to be obedient to Master Allard upon the road and give him no cause to be alarmed for your safety or angered by some stupid prank.”
Anne’s blue eyes blazed, though she quickly veiled them from her father’s gaze. Why must he continually treat her as if she were a naughty child when, within a few weeks, she would have reached marriageable age?
She sank into a little curtsy and, nodding at her mother and laughing in Ned’s direction, for he was pulling a comically wry face, she hastened from the hall in search of her maid.
Lady Jarvis bent over her husband’s fair head as he sat in the chair. She read defeat in his eyes and gently ruffled his still-bright hair.
“The Queen is Plantagenet, Guy, remember. I do not think she would wish to bring your daughter to any harm nor Lady Philippa. I think we can give Anne into Master Allard’s care readily, knowing she could have no finer mentor. I’ll go up now and see what I can to refurbish some of my old Court gowns. The materials are still fine though the style is outdated. Mary will help me. Her skill with the needle is prodigious. I’ve only recently been fashioning one of the new French hoods for Anne.”
He reached back and squeezed her hand and, as she then withdrew, he raised fair eyebrows in Richard Allard’s direction.
“By all the Saints, I hope you are all right in your assessment of this,” he said fervently.
Anne rushed up the stairs to her own chamber, calling imperiously for her maid, Mary Scroggins. The woman appeared soon enough, her sleeves rolled up to her plump elbows, for she had been carefully laundering some of the fine lawn shifts which remained of the better garments Lady Jarvis had retained from the days when coin had been more plentiful in this house. Some had been skilfully darned for none of the newer garments were so soft and delicate and Mary insisted upon dealing with Lady Jarvis’s and Anne’s garments herself.
“What is all the pother?” she enquired mildly in the familiar tones of the trusted servant. Mary had come into service at Rushton four years ago from Lady Allard’s service in Wensleydale where her mother served in attendance upon Sir Dominick and Aleyne.
Anne did not try to reprove her for insolence of tone. She regarded Mary as her trusted companion as well as her attendant.
“Mary, you will never guess…”
“I won’t unless you tell me,” the older girl replied. She was nearing nineteen years of age, brown-haired, with bright hazel eyes and plump rosy cheeks.
She had been reluctant at first to leave the only home she knew in her beloved Yorkshire but she had two other sisters who required places and her mother had insisted upon her going south into a household she knew well, for Kate Scroggins’s husband had served both Sir Dominick Allard and Sir Guy Jarvis. Mary had fitted into the household at Rushton very well and had come to love the girl, three years younger than herself, though there were times when she found Anne a handful and made no bones about telling her so.
Anne was breathless from her run upstairs. “Messengers from Court came and—and, Mary, I have been offered a place in the Queen’s household.”
“What?” Mary stared at her blankly. She was well aware of the situation that existed between those at the new King’s Court and the loyal followers of the late King Richard. “And has your father consented, Mistress Anne?”
“Well, of course, he does not wish me to go but he has had to give his consent, hasn’t he? It is the Queen’s command that I should go,” Anne returned blithely, swirling her skirts as she twisted round in a little jig of triumph. “Mother says you are to go to her in the solar and she will ask if you will go with me willingly. Mary, you will, won’t you? It will be such a grand adventure for both of us.”
“I don’t know about that,” Mary said practically. “My ma says there’s lots of disadvantages to waiting on them great ones at Court but if I don’t keep an eye on you, Mistress Anne, who else will be there to keep you out of mischief?”
“Well, on the journey, Master Allard,” Anne snapped. “Father insists he escort me.” She frowned. “He is so oafish. I do not want him beside me when I arrive in Westminster.”
“Master Richard an oaf?” Mary demanded, scandalized. “Mistress Anne, I’ll thank you to remember my ma and pa have been in service with Master