The Virgin's Spy (Tudor Legacy #2)(23)

Minuette rose without waiting to be dismissed. “But Stephen and his men were untouched in battle?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Then we shall retire and leave you to your strategies and plans. You have no need of us for that.”

Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. “You are the best judge of what the Queen of England needs?”

Dominic rose with his wife. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for including us in the immediate report. We are grateful for Stephen’s safety, and for the success of the English troops. If you have further need of us, you will command us as you choose.”

When had Dominic learned to speak in fluent innuendos? Command as you choose, he meant, but we will serve as we choose.

Now was not the time for displays of temper. She would keep that weapon honed for its greatest need. And they were her friends, not adversaries. Perhaps she had taken their desire for independence too literally. Perhaps Minuette was simply exasperated with her.

“You are dismissed,” she said. But then, in almost the same casual tone, she added, “Would you care to breakfast with me in the morning, Minuette?”

This time, when her friend curtsied, there was a teasing warmth in her smile. “With pleasure.”

When the next morning came, it was indeed a true pleasure to sit alone with Minuette over a table with the most tempting foods the manor house could provide and simply talk. If the Coningsbys were at all put out at not being included, they were too wise to show it.

“I am glad that Stephen came out of this campaign well and whole,” Elizabeth began honestly. “If only because I would like to continue to have him serve the crown and I do not put it past you to spirit your son out of my reach if you are unhappy with what I demand.”

“As if I could!” Minuette laughed. “Stephen is no child to be told where to go or what to do by his mother.”

That wrung an answering laugh, tinged with cynicism, from Elizabeth. “Well spoken. Were we ever so hard to be persuaded when we were young?”

“I am certain both Queen Anne and Lord Rochford thought us the most stubborn of creatures. Now that I am older, I find that I have more sympathy with their point of view.”

“I shall look forward to hearing directly from Stephen about Ireland. Your son has a good grasp of essentials for one so young.”

“As does your daughter. We have had nothing but excellent reports about her conduct and reception along her way through Wales. Pippa may be fond of her, but she is not given to flattery. Anabel does you proud.”

“Has she written to you? Anabel, I mean, not Philippa.” Elizabeth fingered one of the heavy tassels at the edge of the damask table linen, reluctant to look at her friend as she asked.

There was a slight pause, as though Minuette were assessing and interpreting the question. “She has. It is kind of her.”

“She doesn’t do it to be kind. She writes to you because you matter to her.”

“Anabel writes to me because I am not her mother. Because as much as she cares about me, I am not the one whose good opinion matters most to her. She can afford luxuries such as being imperfect with me.”

“Is that pity speaking?” Elizabeth snapped.

“It is experience,” Minuette retorted a touch sharply. “You are the one Lucette turned to, prickly as she was, during her years of uncertainty. Because our daughter loved us too well, and was afraid of being hurt by that love. Also, admittedly, a person at one remove can often see more clearly. You knew that Lucette needed the truth. Not that I will ever agree with the way you went about it. But you read rightly her need for facts.”

“And what do you read rightly of Anabel’s needs?”

“Her need to be useful. She will be a symbol on your behalf, as she must, but to be a symbol without a purpose will slowly kill her spirit. Let her be useful, and she will thrive.”

“Fair enough. Then I will advise that, when Stephen returns from Ireland, you encourage him to take up residence in his Somerset holdings. He has been well trained, now he must be independent. He is not Dominic.”

“I know that.”

“But he must be made to feel that you know it. Everyone he ever meets is comparing him to his father—and Dominic is a most difficult man to live up to. I will let my daughter be useful if you will let your son be free.”

“Since when does a queen make bargains?”

“Only with you, my friend. Don’t let it go to your head.”

—

The morning of Anabel’s formal investiture as Princess of Wales began with Pippa dropping a letter and a package on her bed. “If you don’t get up, it’s entirely possible your mother will change her mind and keep all the honours for herself.”

“Too late,” Anabel yawned, propping herself up as Pippa, a brocade sleeveless gown over her nightdress, settled herself on the bed as well. “Now that I’ve been formally introduced to foreign representatives desiring my marriage, she can’t put me back under lock and key.”

“And what do we think of Jehan de Simier?” Pippa teased.

Anabel teased right back. “What should I think? Any guidance from my personal seer?”

“Nothing you cannot see for yourself. He’s entertaining, but I suspect quite clever behind it. Make no mistake, he’s taking notes for Anjou. And for all his time spent with your mother, you are the one he’s noting.”