MAIDEN in the Tudor Court. June Francis

soaped an aching thigh muscle and imagined Mistress Appleby performing the task. He realised that he was obsessing over her now it was in the open that he knew her for a woman. They were going to have to be careful what they said when they reached Lady Elizabeth’s mansion. If she was to suspect that they had spent nights together, unchaperoned, she would think the worst. They had to dissuade her from such thoughts. He found himself considering telling her ladyship that he had enlisted Mistress Appleby as one of his spies. She would be useful at court with her gift of self-effacement, whilst keeping her eyes and ears open. He could guess what she would make of that notion. In his mind’s eye he could see her pretty mouth falling open and those blue-violet eyes of hers widening in astonishment. ‘You jest, Master Nilsson,’ she would blurt out.

      He grinned, imagining himself silencing her protestations by kissing those luscious lips. He recalled the feel of her satiny skin beneath his fingers and the swell of her breasts against his chest as they lay in the snow. A definite stirring in his loins caused him to cut short such imaginings and reach for the cold-water jug.

      That night when Alex fell asleep he dreamed that he and Mistress Appleby were making love. Afterwards he decked her out in silks and satins and velvet and the best amber jewellery from his country. He woke up with the words running in his head: I give you a choice. You either marry me or be my lover spy. It was then he realised just how desperate he was not to be parted from her and had to remind himself that he had once felt the same about Ingrid and that he no longer loved her.

      Rosamund had also been dreaming, but hers were dark ones of her brother drowning and crying out to her to rescue him. She woke with tears on her cheeks and got out of bed and down on her knees and prayed that he was still alive and she would see him again.

      She felt better after that and fell asleep once more. This time in her dream she was wearing a dark blue gown and on her raven hair she wore a silver circlet encrusted with gemstones of amber. Master Nilsson was facing her as he placed a ring on her finger. Strangely he was wearing a saffron-dyed tunic and a soft leather jerkin, but on his flaxen head he also wore a silver circlet. He was smiling tenderly down at her and then suddenly he vanished and in his place was her stepbrother’s snarling face.

      She woke in terror and this time she did not go back to sleep. She wondered what the dream could mean. No doubt her stepmother would have said it was a sign of her madness. On shaky legs, she went over to the window and drew back the curtain and peered outside. Daylight had come and the sun glistened on the snow in the yard. Her heart lifted and she told herself that she would believe that Harry was still alive. As she gazed down into the yard she saw Master Nilsson tending his horse.

      The sight of him reassured her, but she could not help wondering if he had made time to go and take a look at her stepbrother’s residence What had Edward and Ingrid been doing inside the Steel Yard? She must ask Master Nilsson what it was like on the other side of those high walls.

      She moved away from the window and looked at the garments that she had placed on a chair before getting into bed, without having made the effort to try any of them on. She removed the robe that she had slept in and hastened to cover her nakedness with a cream, woollen under gown. The feel of the soft, warm fabric gave her a frisson of pleasure. She pulled on the blue gown over it and the sensation when the skirts brushed her calves as she twirled round made her want to dance. The sleeves were puffed about her upper arms, but gathered tightly in a band just below the elbow, where they puffed out again to be gathered in embroidered bands at the wrists. She stretched forth her arms and did another twirl.

      Then she frowned. What was she thinking of? She could only have this gown if Master Nilsson loaned her the money and loans had to be paid back. But she was going to have to wear a gown if she were to go with him to Lady Elizabeth’s house, so she was going to have to accept being further in debt to him.

      Having made that decision, she tried on several more gowns. She dithered over whether to take the dark blue one, but remembered what he had said about the colour matching her eyes. She selected another two gowns, one green and one saffron yellow, before also trying on stockings, garters, a couple of hats, shoes and boots.

      She was combing her hair when there came a knock on the door.

      ‘Mistress Appleby, are you awake? We must make haste.’

      Her pulses raced. ‘Aye. I am almost ready, Master Nilsson.’

      ‘You have chosen some gowns to take with you?’ he asked.

      Rosamund hesitated and then opened the door. She caught a whiff of almond-and-honey soap and noticed he was clean shaven. His tawny hair curled about his ears and he had changed his garments and now wore a cream linen shirt beneath a russet doublet; his wellformed legs were clad in red hose. Her senses were roused; she realised that not only did she still want him to kiss her, but that she was desperate for his approval of her appearance.

      Alex’s breath caught in his throat at the anxiety in her eyes and he wanted to punch those who had given her such a low opinion of herself. ‘Blue is a colour you should wear often,’ he said, taking one of her hands and twirling her round. ‘How lovely you look.’ He felt some of the tension leave her and her obvious delight made him want to reassure her by taking her in his arms and kissing her. But he knew that he must keep a rein on his passions.

      ‘You can have no notion of how different I feel wearing such a gown,’ she said shyly.

      ‘Your eyes are like sapphires. I scarcely recognise you as the same person who rode me down near Appleby Manor,’ he teased.

      ‘That seems so long ago now,’ said Rosamund, blushing. ‘But you must go downstairs, Master Nilsson. There is no need for you to wait for me. I will be down as soon as I have tidied my hair.’

      ‘I am content to wait for you.’ He released her hand and went over to the dressing table and picked up a net of silken blue threads. ‘What a pretty trifle this is. You will wear it?’ Rosamund eyed the hairnet and agreed that it was indeed pretty. He handed it to her. ‘Have you chosen other gowns to take with you?’

      ‘I have picked another two,’ she answered, ‘that is, if you are willing to fund me to that extent? I need boots and shoes and other fripperies, as well.’

      ‘Of course I am willing.’ He picked up the cloaks hanging over the back of the chair. ‘You will have these?’

      Rosamund gave them a fleeting glance. ‘I need only one.’

      Alex placed a fur-lined blue velvet cloak about her shoulders. ‘Now how does that feel?’

      Rosamund had noticed the cloak earlier, but had deemed it too costly to try on. Now she could not resist stroking the blue pile. ‘I have never worn velvet before.’

      ‘You will need a brooch to fasten it as it has no ties,’ said Alex.

      ‘I do not have a brooch.’ She made to remove the cloak, but he stayed her with a hand.

      ‘I have a brooch you can use. Please accept this cloak as a gift. I know you do not wish to be beholden to me, but I would like to see you wearing it.’

      She would have refused him, only he lifted a fold of the material and brushed it against her cheek. ‘Imagine wearing such a cloak in your stepmother’s presence. Picture her gnashing her teeth in envy and fury.’

      A faint smile replaced Rosamund’s serious expression. ‘You tempt me, Master Nilsson. But I cannot wear it now—it is an evening cloak.’

      ‘Then wear this brown woollen one for travelling and we will take the blue one with us. Now tidy your hair and let us be on our way.’

      Rosamund submitted to his will. When Harry returned, she felt certain he would willingly pay her debts. She pinned up her hair beneath the blue silk net, whilst Alex neatly folded the garments she had chosen.

      She followed him downstairs and into the parlour where Maud and Walther were eating breakfast in front of the fire. Walther said something in Swedish to Alex, but it was Maud who translated his words. ‘My husband says how lovely you are and I agree with