presence chamber with palpable force. Thoughts were plain to read on every courtier’s face. Visiting royalty was no common occurrence. Such events ordinarily required months of preparation. Even at short notice, however, a display of hospitality must be made. That meant tournaments and disguisings, hunting and hawking, and games of all sorts.
My heart beat a little faster at the prospect. There had been few celebrations at court after the festivities surrounding Princess Margaret’s departure for Scotland, and even those had been steeped in sadness because of Queen Elizabeth’s death.
I thought of Margaret sometimes. It was unlikely I would ever see her again. Princesses who married foreign princes rarely returned to the land of their birth. Catherine of Aragon, who had so briefly been married to Arthur, Prince of Wales, remained in England. She was styled the princess dowager, but she was rarely at court.
When King Henry looked up from the letter, his deep-set blue eyes were alive with an enthusiasm I hadn’t seen in them for a long while. “King Philip and Queen Juana, on their way from Flanders to Castile by sea, encountered the same storm that has wreaked such havoc here in England. It scattered their fleet. The ship carrying the royal couple and their courtiers made landfall at Melcombe Regis, in Dorset. King Philip begs our hospitality untilhe can make such repairs to his ships as are necessary to continue the journey.”
The king gently lifted the monkey down from his shoulder and placed him on the arm of his chair. Only then did he address the messenger directly.
“Our fellow monarchs are most welcome in England. They will be entertained during their stay as befits their station. Return to your master and invite him to meet us at Windsor Castle in two weeks’ time.”
“Will the entire court go to Windsor, Father?” Princess Mary placed one hand on her father’s arm and extended the other to Jot.
She and her brother were the only people at court permitted to show such boldness before the king. I edged closer to the dais, but was careful not to place myself beneath the royal canopy.
His Grace’s rare, slow smile appeared, somewhat brackish and gap toothed. “We will stage amusements fit for a princess.”
“Will there be dancing, Father?” His ten-year-old daughter all but bounced up and down with excitement at the prospect, every movement accompanied by the tinkling of dozens of tiny bells that had been sewn onto her sleeves. “Please say there will be dancing.”
“Just to please you, Mary,” the king promised, “there will be dancing.”
3
I n a generous and expansive mood, King Henry sent gift after gift to the travelers stranded in Dorset at Wolverton Manor—clothing suitable to their station first of all, then horses and litters. Closer to home, he also spent with a liberal hand, determined to impress his royal visitors. Carts full of tapestry, plate, and furniture were sent ahead to Windsor to decorate the castle in the grandest style possible. More was purchased new, to add to the display of England’s wealth and prosperity. Then the king proclaimed that everyone at court should have new clothes at his expense.
The richness of the fabrics varied according to one’s position in the household, but even the lesser servants were given plain cloth livery in green and white, the king’s colors. Catherine of Aragon, the princess dowager, received enough velvet to make new kirtles and gowns for herself and all five of her ladies.
The rains and stormy weather of mid-January were followed by a cold snap, leaving the waterways impassable and the roads icy and even more treacherous than usual. It was foul going for a journey of any length, but the Lady Mary, the princess dowager, and their attendants all arrived safely at Windsor Castle. We rode in litters, protected from the elements but jounced about unmercifully every inch of the way.
On the day King Philip was to arrive, a few of