Royal Inheritance by Kate Emerson Read Free Book Online

thing.”
    My lessons had not extended to exercises in logic, but even at that young age I knew there was something peculiar about Edith’s attitude. She behaved as if she were the equal of anyone in the household . . . and superior to most!
    “Who did you serve before you came to me?” I asked.
    For just a moment, her self-assured manner faltered. I gave her a hard look. She avoided meeting my eyes.
    “Am I your first mistress?” I was astonished by the thought, but her reaction made me believe I was right. “It is true! You have no previous experience as a tiring maid.”
    Edith’s chin went up. “I have been well instructed in all the skills necessary to care for a young woman’s clothes and person.”
    “And I am fully capable of dressing myself, and of choosing what to wear. I have no need of my own tiring maid.”
    “But you do require someone to watch over you at court, and I am ideally suited for that task.”
    “Why?” She seemed a little less formidable now that I knew shewas on the defensive. I patted the space next to me on the chest. “Come and sit down and tell me all.”
    For a moment I thought she would refuse. Then, with a sigh, she obliged me. Pocket nuzzled her hand. That seemed to soften her further.
    “When she was younger, my mother served in the Earl of Oxford’s household.”
    “Is he a very great lord?”
    “Of middling importance. Dukes have more consequence. But Mother is devoted to the family, the de Veres. Her first post was as a nursemaid to the earl’s daughter, Lady Frances de Vere. When Lady Frances went to court, Mother went with her, and she was allowed to bring me along.”
    “Is your mother still at court?”
    Edith shook her head. “Not now. Not until King Henry marries again and we have a new queen. But Lady Frances went on to marry Henry Howard, the Earl of Surrey, becoming a countess. When she started having babies, she asked Mother to come to her to look after them. There are three children in her nursery now.”
    Having assuaged my curiosity, Edith began to question me. She did not seem to find my answers very satisfactory. From her gloomy expression, I concluded that she feared she’d come down in the world.
    “I will go to court again soon,” I assured her, “but in the meantime it might be wise to cater to Bridget’s whims. She’ll make your life a misery otherwise.” I considered for a moment and then added, “You’d do well to befriend the other maidservants. They are wise to her tricks.”
    That evening, when all the women of the household gathered around the largest of our embroidery frames, Edith did her part,impressing everyone with the smallness of her stitches. She followed my advice, although I suspected that it pained her to do so.
    When Bridget excused herself to visit the privy, I could not help but notice how long she was gone. The door to the external latrine opened out of the west gable wall in the room at the back of the house, so that we could not see it from where we sat in the hall. I feared my sister had taken some petty revenge on Edith for her earlier snub, but all seemed well when my new tiring maid retired for the night. It was only much later, when a faint but persistent sound awoke me, that I discovered Pocket had been locked in the wardrobe chest with my clothing. By then it was too late to salvage my best kirtle. The poor little dog had relieved himself all over the pale blue brocade.

9
    O ur first week of lessons with the dancing master had scarce concluded when the second of the tutors the king had promised me arrived at the house in Watling Street. I saw him first from an upper window. It extended out from the front of the house above the entrance to Father’s shop and gave those within a clear view of passersby.
    Watling Street is a very ancient highway, part of the old Roman road that runs from a spot near Dover all the way to Chester. Within London’s walls, it is inconveniently narrow, with barely room for one