The Intended

Chapter 2-1

2

The Palace at Kenninghall, Norfolk, England

June 1540

The sound of shouting and the clattering of horses’ hooves on the stone paving of the yard drew Jaime’s attention from the young children’s faces to the window. Remnants of the passing shower still clung to the diamond-shaped panes, and the late afternoon sun sparkled in the multitude of droplets like so many little gems. Jaime listened for a moment to the tumultuous welcome that the duke of Norfolk’s household was giving the returning warriors. Through the boisterous racket, the young woman heard the voice of Thomas Howard, the old duke himself, booming out a welcome to his second son. She smiled, and turned her attention back to the waiting faces of her pupils. Tonight’s feast would give her plenty of opportunity to convey her best wishes to Lord Edward Howard on his latest triumph.

Straightening the music sheet before her and picking up her lute, Jaime nodded to the assortment of girls and boys, and watched the young singers as they turned their eyes to the book of madrigals that they were sharing. Jaime raised her eyebrows at the three older boys in the back who were casting longing looks at the windows. She couldn’t really blame them for their restlessness, with the excitement outside. But they were almost finished here. She turned to the four girls standing beside her with their instruments. They watched her, their eyes round and attentive.

“Make this last one perfect, now,” she said. Looking back at the singers, she smiled at a little redheaded sprite in the front of the group. “Little Kate, this time I’d like you to try to raise your pitch just a wee bit higher. Could you do that for me?”

The tiny girl bobbed her carrot-topped head and tugged shyly at a faded ribbon that she wore at the waist of her dress. Her singsong voice was barely a whisper when she spoke. “I’ll try, mistress.”

Jaime gazed at the little girl’s pink cheeks as the child glanced nervously to her right and left. Kate was at the moment the youngest of the nine children belonging to Evan, the duke’s falconer, and she was surrounded by two girls who were each a head and a shoulder taller than she was. But Jaime knew for certain that in that small body lay hidden the pure notes of a child soprano. She’d heard hints of it on a number of occasions already.

Turning to the rest of the children, Jaime raised a finger, and on the cue they all began their version of “I Will Give You Joy.” The trilled notes of the pipes and the deeper tones of the lutes played in perfect harmony, and Jaime prompted her chorus encouraging them as they sang. The three older girls were magnificent, but Jaime's eyes watched Kate’s trembling lips as she barely mumbled the words. With a raised hand, Jaime silenced the group. Reaching forward, she gently drew the small child to her.

“I did try, mistress,” Kate said nervously. “This is as loud as I can be.”

Jaime placed a hand around the little girl’s shoulder and nodded in understanding. After a moment, though, she looked up into the bright green eyes. “Your mama told me how much you liked the pink ribbon I gave you yesterday.”

Kate nodded her head up and down with glee. “Indeed I do, mistress. I put it next to my bed last night. I’m saving it for Midsummer’s Eve.”

Jaime nodded with understanding before continuing. “I want you to imagine this, Kate. You get home from our lessons here, and your ribbon is missing.” The look of horror on the little girl’s face told Jaime she had captured the child’s full attention. “So you run outside and into the mews, and you see your brother Johnny has tied the ribbon around one of the falcons’ feet. Now, a hunting party is preparing to leave and your brother is taking the falcon with him. Don’t forget, all your brothers and sisters are there, the grooms are milling about, and it’s really quite noisy in the mews. He is leaving now, and there’s no way you can catch up to him before he goes. Call to him, Kate. Go ahead, call out to him and let him know you want your ribbon back.”

The little girl’s shriek brought everyone’s hands to their ears. Then, after a moment of complete silence, a burst of childish laughter by the entire group followed the shock of her cry. Jaime's eyes were smiling as she cradled Kate’s giggling face with her hand. “I knew you had it in you.”

With a gentle pat on the cheek, Jaime nodded Kate back to her place.

Once more through the piece—with a tremendous difference in the little girl’s contribution—and Jaime decided to dismiss the children for the day. No sooner had she uttered the words, though, before the door of the music room burst open and in flew an energetic figure, her blond hair fluttering behind her.

Standing to the side and holding the door open for the escaping onslaught of children, Mary Howard smiled as the last ones filed out.

“That little red-haired imp in the front of the pack almost knocked me down,” she said to Jaime. “She was certainly in a rush.”

“I believe she has a ribbon to rescue.” Jaime smiled after the departing children and began to sort the loose sheets of music before her. She stood and moved toward a table by the window with Mary on her heels.

“Leave your music, silly. Can’t you hear the excitement? Lord Edward has returned.”

Jaime glanced over her shoulder into the bright face of her cousin. With a twinkle in her eye, Jaime carefully stacked the sheets, and laid the bound book of music upon them. “Oh, Mary, must we make a spectacle of ourselves every time an eligible man rides into the courtyard?”

“Pooh, Jaime! Pooh! You know that Edward is interested only in you. And now he’s home from a grand sea battle with the enemy.”

Jaime shook her head at her vivacious cousin. Though the duke’s household seemed to be filled with Howard nephews and nieces, as well as with the children of other noble families, Jaime had never ceased to be amazed that from the first day of her arrival from Hever Castle—following the death of Thomas Boleyn, her grandfather—her cousin Mary had attached herself to her with an almost childlike affection. And indeed, though they were both cousins to the duke’s sons, Mary had never shown anything but delight in the fact that Edward Howard had taken such an evident liking to Jaime.

Mary, quite a prize herself, prided herself on her knowledge of every noble family and every eligible man in England. So after seeing her cousin Edward’s infatuation with Jaime, Mary had been quick to remind Jaime that even as second son, Lord Edward was a Howard and had wonderful prospects as a husband. He was, after all, handsome, wealthy, and the ideal embodiment of knightly behavior. Jaime—Mary argued—had to wed someday, so why not open her heart to someone so worthy, one who sought her heart so resolutely.

Jaime had not disagreed with her cousin’s position. Marrying Edward would certainly be an excellent match. One that would settle—once and for all—the question of her desire to live outside of Scotland. Jaime knew that Elizabeth and Ambrose Macpherson, her parents, would grant their approval—albeit grudgingly—to the match. After what she had faced at the Priory on the Isle of Skye little more than a year ago, after the embarrassment from which she had felt compelled to run, Jaime knew that her parents would agree to whatever she wished. She knew they understood her desire to begin her life anew, even though it meant a life far from the rugged Highlands of Scotland.

Jaime took a deep breath and gazed vacantly at the portrait above the fireplace. Holbein had painted it just that winter. Edward and his older brother Henry mounted on great hunters before the palace, their dogs and servants around them. Very well, it was settled. That was how it must be, she thought. Edward wanted her. That was obvious to Jaime and everyone else. She knew he was just waiting for some sign from her—something that would tell him that she was ready to accept all he was ready to give. But that was the difficult part, she thought with a sigh. He wanted her to open her heart and take him in. This she hadn’t been quite able to do...yet.

Jaime looked at the orderly pile of music sheets on her desk. Music. She realized, looking at the neat inked lines on the top sheet that she would have been perfectly happy busying herself with music for the rest of her life. She had no need for love. She felt no desire for passion in her life. She longed for no husband.

Jaime wished Edward were not so persistent.

Mary’s voice broke into her thoughts. “The messenger said the ship had been laden with treasure, coz.” She took hold of Jaime’s elbow and turned her around, surveying her dress. “What treasure do you think he has plucked from the French this time to bring his sweet Jaime?”

“Stop it, Mary. You really do talk so foolishly, sometimes.”

“But it is true. On his last excursion out onto the German Sea, when he came upon that Spanish galleon, you were given the most prized gem of all he brought back. That medallion with the giant ruby...”

“I didn’t ask for it. Mary. I don’t even like it. I have no need for treasures nor for precious gifts. You know I haven’t worn it even once.”

Mary let out a deep sigh. “Oh, to have such choices. Ah, well. Perhaps his gift will be more suited to your taste, this time.” The young woman paused. “Now that I think of it, I’m certain you’ll accept and cherish this one. After all, the ship Lord Edward has taken was French and, knowing you and your inclination to their styles, you’ll probably treasure whatever it is he gives you.”

Jaime shook her head indifferently. “Nay, my love, no matter how charming the token might be, I’ll accept nothing stolen off a French ship. You know that it is impossible for me to think of them as the enemy.”

“Play Lady Disdain to Lord Edward’s attentions if you like, Jaime Macpherson,” Mary said, frowning and shaking her head in disapproval. “But you’d best refrain from such talk of the French. It’s bad enough that you’re half Scottish, but talk like that is treasonous, I’m quite sure. The French are our enemy, now, and that you must accept.”

Jaime knew that it would be fruitless to argue with her cousin. Mary—as dear as she was—had been raised in the duke of Norfolk’s household from childhood and would never understand anything beyond the walls of her narrow world. And Jaime—at least for now—was only a guest, and it was hardly appropriate that she should raise havoc in the household simply because her view of the world was a bit broader.

“Very well, my patriotic cousin.” Jaime said resignedly, sensing Mary’s anxiety. “I promise I’ll limit myself to less dangerous topics. And therefore, armed with my promise, you may feel comfortable leading me on to our cousin Edward, the conquering hero—as I know you must.”