Free Philippa by Bertrice Small Page B

Philippa said. “She is the heiress to Lord Cambridge’s home, Otterly Court. And then there is my littlest sister, who like you is called Bessie. I don’t know them anymore, I fear.”
    “But you will soon reacquaint yourself with them both,” Bessie Blount replied.
    “Aye, and my little stepbrother, John Hepburn, and my mother’s sons by my stepfather. I shall certainly be a stranger to them all now,” Philippa remarked. “It is very strange having a stepbrother, and half brothers who are Scots, and not English.”
    “Your summer will be interesting then,” Bessie concluded, “unlike mine, which will be uneventful. I had thought Maggie, Jane, and Anne were to remain with the queen this summer.”
    “Jane’s mother grew ill, and she was needed at home. I am not certain if she will return. Maggie’s mother is Irish. She asked the queen for her daughter’s company so they might visit Maggie’s grandmother in Ireland. She is elderly. As for Anne, her family may have found a suitable match for her. They wanted her home so the gentleman in question might inspect her, and she him,” Philippa explained. “Aye, I fear your summer may be very dull, but I shall try and get back as quickly as I can.”
    “I thought you said it was your mama’s decision as to when you return,” Bessie Blount said.
    Philippa smiled. “I shall not be happy at home. If I am not content then no one will be content until they allow me to return to court, and the company of civilized folk.”
    Bessie shook her head at her companion. “You really should learn to be more biddable, Philippa Meredith. Men do not like headstrong women.”
    Philippa laughed. “I do not care. I am what I am, and no more. At least I am honest, unlike some. Millicent Langholme simpers, and blushes, but we both know that once she has a ring on her finger, Sir Walter will have one through his nose by which she will lead him to her ways and none other.”
    Bessie laughed. “I cannot argue with you there,” she agreed.
    The following day the queen and her party departed for Woodstock, while the king and his friends moved on from Richmond to Esher, where they would go hunting. Philippa was given a day to rest once they reached Woodstock, and then she departed with her servant, Lucy, for Friarsgate. She carried little luggage, for she had left most of her clothing at Lord Cambridge’s house near London. Her beautiful court garb would have no place at Friarsgate. And while she did not relish several months at Friarsgate, Philippa did not look forward to the long trip, and believed that with less baggage they would move more quickly.
    Late in the afternoon before her departure Philippa was called to the queen’s privy chamber where a gentleman stood waiting by Katherine’s side. The queen was seated, and looked rather pale today.
    “Come in, Philippa,” the queen beckoned her.
    Philippa entered, and curtseyed to the queen.
    Katherine smiled. “This is Sir Bayard Dunham, my child. He will escort you and your servant safely home to Friarsgate. He has his instructions, and carries a letter for your mother. You will be accompanied by a dozen men-at-arms from my own service. You will leave at first light in the morning.”
    “Thank you, your highness,” Philippa replied, and curtseyed again.
    “You will take with you our kindest regards to your mother, and tell her that I hope you will be returned to my service by the Christmas revels,” the queen said. “If you are ready, of course, and cured of your malaise over the FitzHugh boy.”
    “Yes, madame!” Philippa smiled broadly. She was already cured of her pique over the duplicitous Giles FitzHugh, for her little adventure at the top of the Canted Tower had done that, but the queen would not believe it, she knew.
    “Go along now, my child. May the Blessed Mother protect you in your travels, and bring you safely home,” Katherine said.
    “And may God and his gracious son, our lord Jesu, protect your