“Aye, but only recently. Why?”
“As we passed the palace courtyard I saw a gentleman I recognized from the English court,” she explained.
“Would he recognize you, sweetheart?” the earl asked her, concerned.
“I do not know, Patrick. We were never introduced, nor did we ever speak, but I know who he is. He is one of the Howards. Not an important one, just a distant cousin.”
“But he has obviously been given this posting to please his more powerful relations,” Glenkirk noted. “We will have to see he does not become involved in our little business. It would not do for Henry Tudor to learn we are attempting to weaken the alliance the pope seeks to build.”
They rode farther down towards the town, coming to the pink villa that was the residence of Scotland’s ambassador. Patrick felt the years sliding away as he remembered his own tenure here. Like San Lorenzo itself, he had never thought to see it again. They rode through the open gates into the courtyard, and immediately there were servants to take their horses. The majordomo came out to greet the visitors.
He was an elderly man, but his eyes widened with recognition as he approached them. “My lord Leslie!” he said. “Welcome! Welcome back to San Lorenzo!”
“Pietro! How wonderful to find you still here!” Glenkirk said, wringing the old man’s hand. “Is your master inside? I have brought a message from our king.”
“Come in, my lord! Come in!” He led them out of the sun, which was surprisingly hot.
“I will tell my master that you are here. We were not expecting visitors,” Pietro said. He led them into a beautiful light-filled chamber overlooking gardens. “If you will wait here, my lord. There is wine for refreshment.” He hurried out as fast as his old legs could carry him.
“He was my majordomo when I served the king here,” Patrick noted.
“He obviously likes you,” Rosamund said.
“His daughter liked me, too,” came the mischievous reply. “She had dark hair and eyes and golden skin.”
“From what I have seen along the road, my lord, I imagine she is now a plump and well-settled matron. A grandmother, perhaps?” Rosamund murmured sweetly.
“You are jealous, sweetheart,” he said, and his tone was exceedingly pleased.
“Why are men so vain?” Rosamund wondered aloud.
“Ouch!” he cried, falling back, clutching his chest in mock distress. “Your claws are all the sharper for these weeks on the road, my sweet Rosamund.” Then he chuckled.
“My lady!” Annie said excitedly. “Look out in the gardens. There are flowers blooming, and ’tis but February. And didn’t the sun feel good, and it still winter?”
“Winter does not visit San Lorenzo, Annie,” the earl explained, “except on very rare and quick occasions.”
“You mean it’s like this all the time?” Annie was astounded. “Surely you’ve brought us to paradise, my lord.”
“I once thought it so,” he replied.
The door to the salon opened, and a tall, grizzled gentleman walked through. “My lord earl!” he said, and he bowed.
“Lord MacDuff,” Patrick said. “Is there someplace we may speak privily? And if my lady and her servant might be taken to comfortable quarters… We will be staying with you. Dermid, go with Annie and Lady Rosamund.” The Earl of Glenkirk’s voice rang with authority.
“Of course, my lord,” the ambassador replied. “Pietro!” The majordomo was immediately in the room. “My lord?”
“Show the lady to our guest quarters, and see that everything is done to make her and the earl comfortable. My lord, come with me.” And Lord MacDuff led Patrick from the salon.
Pietro bowed. “I speak English, a little bit, my lady,” he said.
“And I speak French a little bit,” Rosamund told him with a smile.
The majordomo smiled back. “Then if my lady will follow me,” he responded.
They followed him from the lovely salon out into the round marble foyer and up two levels of a wide marble flight of stairs. On the third landing he opened the gilded walnut doors and ushered them into a spacious apartment.
“Is there anything you need at the moment, my lady?” he asked her.
“We have been on the road for many days, Pietro. I should love a bath,” she told him.
“At once, my lady,” he told her, and he hurried off.
“And what will you be wearing after I take these stinking clothes and have ’em burned?” Annie demanded to know.
“Do I not have at least one clean shirt or chemise?” Rosamund asked.
“Well, you can hardly meet anyone in just your chemise,” Annie replied pithily.
“Well, then, I suppose after my bath I shall need to see a seamstress,” Rosamund told her servant. “The earl has promised me that he would have a suitable wardrobe made for me. And you will need new garments as well, Annie.”
“I’d actually like to have a bath myself, and some clean clothing,” Annie admitted. “Don’t think I’ll ever get the stink of horse out of me hair.”
“Let’s explore this apartment and see what we have while we are waiting for my bath,” Rosamund suggested.
Together the two young women began walking about and opening doors. The apartment had its dayroom in which they now stood, but it also had two bedchambers adjoining each other and two small chambers each containing a single bed, a chest, and a little table.
“You have your own room,” Rosamund told Annie, “and there is one for Dermid. Choose now, you two, and set your possessions inside. Dermid, I did not ask you before, but were you with the earl when he was last here in San Lorenzo?”
“Nay, ’twas my uncle,” Dermid said. “I was just newly breeked when the lord came home. My uncle chose me to go with the earl when the king sent for him. He has no lads of his own, just daughters,” Dermid explained. “He said he was too old to go traipsing about any longer, and so was the master. But when the king called, a loyal man answered, and that man would need his servant. He’d been training me to take his place these last few years anyway. He’ll be surprised when he learns where I’ve been.”
“If you can tell him,” Rosamund said quietly.
“Aye, lady. I may not be able to say,” Dermid answered her.
“Oh, my lady, look!” Annie had opened the windowlike doors across the dayroom. Beyond was a balcony that stretched across the villa, and beyond it was the blue sea. “Ain’t it beautiful!” Annie said.
“Yes, it is,” Rosamund replied, joining her servant. “I don’t think I have ever seen anything as beautiful outside of Friarsgate.”
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you mention home in weeks,” Annie noted. “I wondered if you had forgotten it.”
“Nay. Friarsgate is my first love, and it will always be my love, Annie. We will go home eventually, but this is so exciting. I never thought to see a place like San Lorenzo, or live through a winter without chilblains on my hands. Once I should have been content to never leave Friarsgate, and one day I will feel the same way again. But not now. Not today.”
The door to the apartment opened, and a line of footmen, led by Pietro, began to enter. He signaled with his hand to Dermid. “Here, man, help me,” he said. Then he entered the more feminine bedchamber, pressed a hidden lock on one of the walnut-paneled walls, which sprang open to reveal a huge bathing tub, and with Dermid’s aid wrestled the tub from its place out into the room. “Where will you have it, my lady?” he asked her.
Rosamund looked about the room, and then seeing that the windowed doors opened onto the terrace, said, “Put it out there, Pietro.”
The majordomo smiled broadly. “Ah,” he said as he and Dermid wrestled the tub to its desired location, “Madame is a romantic.”
Rosamund smiled back at him. “It seems a perfect place,” she murmured.
The tub was set out upon the marble terrace, and the footmen began to fill it with their buckets, slowly climbing the twin sets of steps placed on either side of the tub and dumping the water into the large vessel, which
