She glanced around as they walked. “Maybe. A little. Why?”
“I keep thinking Cardinal Wolsey built this place like an Italian cardinal’s palace. Something about the feel of it, the layout. Henry the Eighth would have ruined it when he rebuilt, but underneath…”
They crossed Clock Court, Rose’s measured steps matching the cadence of Henry’s great astronomical timepiece. “Are there records of the construction?”
“None of which I’m aware.” He sighed. “Someday I hope to see an actual cardinal’s palace. To journey to Italy and stand in the middle of one and see if I’m right, if it feels the same as this.”
He waited for her to say she’d like to come with him, but she didn’t. Her skirts swished against the cobblestones, and as they passed the fountain with its paltry gurgle of water, hoots of revelers filtered down from the Presence Chamber.
“The court seems in high spirits following the duel,” he remarked.
“I’m sure they are,” she replied dryly. “Louise said it was the most exciting thing that’s happened in weeks.”
“Why aren’t you with them?”
She clamped her lips and walked faster, entering Cloister Green Court.
And there she stopped. “Listen.” The courtyard was bordered by the king’s and queen’s apartments on two of its four sides. “Do you hear Charles’s dogs? How odd—he usually keeps them with him at court.”
He suppressed a smile. “You’re not hearing Charles’s dogs.”
“I am. Can’t you hear them yipping?”
“It’s not dogs you hear, Rose. It’s people.”
“People? Doing what?” Her eyes narrowed and then widened. “You cannot mean…”
Despite his efforts, a grin broke free. “Yes.”
“It’s a couple making love?” Trust her to say it out loud when he’d avoided being direct. In a complete reversal of mood, a little giggle escaped her lips. “Good God, do people really sound like that in bed?”
“Some people,” he said, struggling to maintain his dignity. “Not everyone.”
More giggles filled the courtyard, mad giggles, giggles that warmed his heart. “I-I’m n-never g-going to y-yip like that,” she choked out as the yipping went on. “Gemini, would you listen to her? She sounds as though she’s in pain!”
He thought he heard a little snort, but surely Rose wouldn’t snort. “She’s not in pain, I assure you,” he said, giving in and laughing along with her.
He’d never in his life laughed so much as he had since he met Rose. It felt good. Lest he drop them, he set down his things and put his hands on her shoulders, and she felt good.
“With any other man,” she chortled as the yipping built to a crescendo, “I’d have pretended I didn’t hear that.”
“You thought it was dogs,” he reminded her. “You couldn’t have pretended.”
“Well, a courtier wouldn’t have pointed out my mistake.”
The yipping stopped while Kit just stared at her.
“I didn’t intend that in a negative fashion,” she said quickly in the sudden quiet. “I’m very glad we’re friends.”
Kit was glad, too, but he feared that was all they’d ever be.
After a spell of silence, she drew a deep, audible breath. “I feel small here,” she whispered. “In the dark with the towering buildings all around looming over us.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “I know what you mean.”
“Look at all the different shaped chimneys silhouetted against the sky.” She gazed up for a quiet moment, then lowered her eyes to meet his. “It must be wonderful to create something so monumental.”
She knew. She knew how he felt. “I’m only creating one building,” he reminded her.
“Still, it will be part of this whole.” Her sigh sounded wistful, calmer than before their bout of laughter. “Show me what you’re creating.”
He scooped up his things and guided her out the back of the palace, nodding to the sleepy guard. Before them, lime trees stretched into the dark distance, and moonlight reflected off Charles’s Long Water, a manmade canal inspired by one at Versailles. Kit drew Rose to the right, where at the corner of the palace another guarded gate marked the entrance to the privy gardens.
“Harriet!” Rose exclaimed. “Whatever are you doing here?”
In the torchlight from the gatehouse, her maid blushed. “Just passing the time, milady. Your mother introduced me to Walter.” Harriet motioned to the guard. “You haven’t need of me, have you?”
“I certainly do…not.” Rose shook her head. “No, not right now.”
When Kit pushed open the gate, Walter cleared his throat. “The garden is for the king’s pleasure only, I’m afraid.”
“I’m here to work,” Kit said succinctly.
“At this hour?” The man looked between them. “With her? Pardon me, Mr. Martyn, but it doesn’t seem as though—”
“She’s volunteered to assist me.” Kit raised his supplies.
“Ah, let them go,” Harriet cajoled with much more familiarity than Kit expected from one so newly introduced. “Trust me, Walter, my mistress won’t be dallying with the likes of him.”
That attitude, unfortunately, Kit did expect. As he ushered Rose through the opened gate, the fragile closeness he’d felt in Cloister Green Court disappeared like sawdust in the wind.
“Trust my mother to find a suitor for my maid,” Rose grumbled. “She thinks she can match every last soul with his or her perfect mate.”
Kit shut the gate. “Do her introductions often result in marriages?”
“Usually, which is annoying as anything.”
He hid a smile. “Not to the people involved, I’ll wager.”
“Well, she’s not involving me.” She hurried toward the new construction. “Show me what you’re building.”
He walked her through the new apartments, the main rooms and all the bedchambers for the Duchess of Cleveland and the five children she’d borne King Charles. Most of them were all but grown already, but the king had granted them titles, and he played a large part in their lives.
“The chambers are bare yet,” he told Rose, “but they will be rich. Charles is sparing no expense.”
“Isn’t Barbara living in Paris now?”
“Yes, but he knows she’ll be back.”
“I understand he doesn’t stay at Hampton Court often. Word has it he prefers Windsor and Whitehall.”
“All the more reason to give her a home here,” he said with a half smile. It was common knowledge that Charles
