“What?” For a moment he looked puzzled, but then, as she explained, it all became clear to Lord Cambridge again.

“Remember the night we left the summer progress several years ago to return home to Cumbria? Remember what she saw, and how I denied it, naming another gentleman? She did not believe me, but I did think I had prevailed upon her to be silent. She was not. She ran rumormongering to the queen,” Rosamund said.

“And what did you do?” he asked her.

“I denied it, of course. I will always deny it, Tom. I was vulnerable. He was all-powerful. I could not refuse. It was a supreme moment of weakness, and I not only regret it, but I am ashamed it ever happened, though at the time it was exciting even if it was forbidden. I will always deny it, for I should never deliberately harm Kate. She is too important to England. And he will certainly never admit to it, even to his confessor, I suspect. He believes too strongly in his divine right.” Rosamund smiled mischievously.

“And she believed you?” He was anxious for her.

“She wants to believe me,” Rosamund replied, “but she will always be suspicious, for that is her nature and Inez has played on it. But I have been no less duplicitous, for I have played on her desire to retain our long-standing friendship. She can never forget what Owein and I did for her when she was in such dire straits.”

“We must help her believe you over Inez,” Lord Cambridge said.

“We must leave the issue alone,” Rosamund said. “She has agreed to receive Philippa tomorrow.”

“Nay. It will but take one small thing to make your lie more palatable to accept than Inez de Salinas’ truth,” he told her. “Trust me in this matter, cousin.”

“I am told the court is moving to Windsor shortly,” Rosamund said, attempting to turn the subject. “Did you know? Do you perchance have a house in Windsor, cousin?” she teased him.

He laughed. “Nay, but I knew, and so I have reserved an entire floor of one of the town’s finer inns for us. We shall not be sleeping in a hayrick, my dear girl.”

The day moved into the summer twilight, and the Great Hall began to fill with courtiers. The women Rosamund had known casually during her last stay at court now approached her and greeted her as if it were her first day back with them. Rosamund was gracious, but amused. It was obvious that her censure had now been officially lifted. Inez de Salinas was not among these women.

And then suddenly Charles Brandon approached her, smiling toothily. “My dear Rosamund,” he purred like a large tomcat anticipating a meal of finch, “how delightful to see you returned to court.” He lifted her hand, his gaze meeting her own startled one, and kissed it, retaining it afterwards and tucking it through his arm. “Come, my lovely, and let us speak of old times.” And he led her off, murmuring as he did, “Try not to look so surprised, my pet. After all, am I not an old lover?”

Rosamund looked up into the handsome face, and her laugh tinkled loudly enough for the ladies left behind to hear it. But then she said, “My lord, please explain yourself.”

“Your little prevarication must be made real to those who would gossip unkindly, should it not, Rosamund Bolton?” His dark eyes scanned her face. “Aye, you are very lovely. What a pity you insist on sequestering yourself in the north.”

“I still do not understand, my lord,” she told him.

“I knew years ago, just after you had gone,” he said. “The king’s Walter told me what had happened and requested that if ever asked, I confirm your lie. But no one ever asked until tonight, when Walter once again approached me. He said this little charade would be necessary to convince a certain lady.”

“But she was nowhere near us,” Rosamund replied.

“Trust me, dear lady,” he told her. “The little incident is already being reported to her as we speak together. You were surrounded by her minions, were you not?”

“I owe you a debt of gratitude, then, Charles Brandon,” Rosamund said quietly.

“Nay, madame, ’twas I who owed you. But now my debt is paid in full, I believe,” he said to her.

“How is it you owe me a debt?” Rosamund asked.

“When you were a girl first at court in the Venerable Margaret’s care, God assoil her good soul”-he crossed himself-“there was a plot devised that Prince Henry seduce you. Perhaps you will remember it. Though I did advise against it, I held the wagers.”

“I remember,” Rosamund told him. “And I agree that we are now even, my lord.” She chuckled softly. “I remember that my husband insisted you turn over the wagers to the king’s mother for charitable purposes. Richard Neville was very angry.”

“Did you tell his father, as you had threatened?” Brandon asked her.

“Nay, but I refused to sell him warhorses after that,” she said with a grin. “The horses Owein raised and trained were most prized.”

He laughed. “You may be a country lass, madame, but you were always a very clever one. I believe we have now satisfied whatever curiosity there was about the gossip bruited about by Senora de Salinas.” He raised Rosamund’s hand to his lips once more. “Good evening, madame,” he said, and with a bow, he permitted her to move away from him first before he turned to find and rejoin his own friends.

In an instant, Lord Cambridge was at her side. “My dear girl, what was that all about?”

“You spoke to the king’s man Walter, did you not, Tom?” Rosamund queried him. “I am very much in your debt, cousin, for it.”

“I thought it the best way to stem any gossip and defeat Inez de Salinas’ wicked tongue,” he told her. “I know you like fighting your own battles, Rosamund, but this was one engagement I felt must be won immediately for Philippa’s sake.”

Rosamund leaned over and kissed her cousin on the cheek. “Aye, Tom, you were right,” Rosamund agreed. Then she sighed. “May we go home now? I want to tell Philippa that she is to meet the queen tomorrow.”

“First you must pay your respects to his majesty,” Tom advised her. “Now that you have the queen’s forgiveness and friendship again, he will know it and expect you to come to him.”

Rosamund sighed again. “Very well. But come with me, Tom. I cannot face Hal by myself. Especially after what has transpired in the last few hours.”

“I watched Brandon,” he told her. “I thought he played his part quite nicely, my dear girl. A former lover, hopeful of rekindling an old friendship. And you were perfect. Surprised he would approach you, but charming even as you rejected his advances. It was well played out, cousin.”

“I have taken part in enough court masques to know how to act my part, Tom,” she told him with a wicked smile. “Come along, now, and let us greet the king.”

They made their way through the Great Hall arm in arm. Reaching the foot of the dais upon which the king’s throne was set, Rosamund curtsied deeply and her cousin bowed with his usual elegant flourish.

Henry Tudor viewed them through his small blue eyes. She was lovelier than ever, he thought. He considered another liaison with her, but then recalled that they had barely escaped exposure the last time. Only her quick wit had saved them. But Inez de Salinas had attempted to make difficulties with Rosamund’s return. She was foiled again by the lady of Friarsgate, and he had seen Charles Brandon play his part in the charade. The queen was now fully convinced Inez had been mistaken, but Inez was too stubborn, or proud, to admit to her error. The woman would have to go back to Spain shortly with her merchant husband. He could not have Katherine distressed.

“You are welcome back to our court, Lady Rosamund,” he said.

“I thank you, your majesty,” she replied. Then Rosamund curtsied again and backed away from the foot of the throne with her cousin.

The king turned to speak with the queen as the lady of Friarsgate and her cousin disappeared into the crowd. “My dear wife,” he said quietly, “I think Maria’s sister must leave us soon.”

The queen nodded. “As much as I regret losing another old friend, my dear husband, I believe you are correct. Inez has grown troublesome as she has grown older.”

“You will see to it, then, Kate?” he asked.

“I will, Henry,” she promised. Then she said, “Rosamund has brought her heiress to court. The little girl is ten now, and Rosamund would have her presented to us. I have invited them for tomorrow, Henry. Will you receive the child, too?”

“Of course, Kate,” he told her with a smile.

Having paid their respects to the king and the queen, Rosamund and Tom departed Westminster in their separate barges to return home to Bolton House. The night had already fallen, but the moon silvered the Thames River as they went. Philippa was already abed when they arrived, and Rosamund let her daughter sleep. She knew the girl would not be able to go back to sleep on learning she was to go to court the following day to meet Great Harry and Spanish Kate. The morning would be time enough. Philippa was more than ready, and so was her wardrobe.

Rosamund prepared for bed; then after dismissing Lucy, she sat down in the window seat in her bedchamber that overlooked the gardens and the river below. Contemplating her day, she realized again that the court was a dangerous place. I should far rather face a pack of rampaging borderers, she thought, than have to spend my life dealing with those people. Life at Friarsgate was far simpler. Everything was as it seemed. Poor Inez de Salinas would suffer the deceptions that had been played upon her this night because they all sought to protect Katherine of Aragon from heartbreak. Inez had once been her friend. But in a moment’s time that all changed.

Inez would be disgraced. Rosamund knew that wasn’t fair, but if she had admitted to her indiscretion with the king several years back, Rosamund would have suffered far greater difficulties. Inez, in her great desire to protect her mistress, would be penalized only for allowing her imagination to get away from her and persisting in it. It was no great crime, but it was an annoyance neither the king nor the queen wanted to be bothered by any longer. Inez had outlived her usefulness. Had it been known, however, that Henry Tudor and Rosamund Bolton had indulged their passionate natures in a brief affair, Rosamund would have not only lost the queen’s friendship and patronage, but the king’s, as well. Henry did not want to flaunt his mistresses. Discretion was the key to success with England’s king. And Rosamund had not fought so long and so hard to protect Friarsgate, impeded by her very sex, to lose it and the king’s friendship, which was in the end more valuable than the queen’s.