The Virgin's War (Tudor Legacy #3)(81)
“I don’t know. You don’t suppose he fully trusts me, do you? I’m English. Just as King James is courting Anabel to protect his own interests, he’s courting me because Maisie owns St. Adrian’s. He wants her company.”
“Will he get it?”
“That is up to her.”
Kit rolled his eyes. “You two don’t talk?”
With a perfectly straight face, his brother replied, “I have better things to do with my wife than talk about war. I’m sure you can imagine.”
“I think I prefer not to.” Kit choked back a laugh. Now that he looked closely, his normally straitlaced, disciplined older brother had a look of unusual mischief in his eyes. So Pippa had been right—Stephen had married for love. Not that his twin would be surprised by that. She was always faintly offended when others were astonished at her being right.
Kit cleared his throat. “Your happiness aside, it is a matter of some concern to both the queen and Anabel that England secure the use of St. Adrian’s this year.”
“I do have some tactical reasoning left to me. You know that, St. Adrian’s or not, the queen has asked me to return to England to take a command. I have agreed.”
“Good. You’re needed.” It was a long time now since Kit had thought every compliment given to his brother was necessarily a criticism of himself. “And your wife? This wife you enjoy so much you have no time to talk—why did she not come to Berwick with you? I would think King James would give her anything she wanted in order to secure that company.”
A faint smile touched Stephen’s lips. “He would also stretch the law in order to get his hands on it. Bad enough that our marriage meant she kept hold of the Sinclair business. He does not like the thought of a young woman also having a significant military company at her command. So…” He trailed off invitingly.
“You’re really going to make me ask?” Kit aimed a light cuff at Stephen’s head.
His brother deflected it. “And so, as we speak, Maisie is taking St. Adrian’s across the border to Carlisle and offering the company’s expertise in the coming war to the Queen of England. Once back in Scotland, I shall give King James my resignation as Warden of the Scottish West March. I don’t imagine he’ll object when he knows what I have done.”
Kit whistled, softly, to ensure they drew no attention from any distant guards. “Clever. Is she not afraid James will sequester her business in retaliation?”
“He can’t do that publicly without making an enemy of England. He may not want to commit to war with Spain, but he very much wants to marry the Princess of Wales. There is only so far he can go in opposing someone who is now a member of the Courtenay family. Also, Maisie is more clever than even people think her. She has already taken steps to diversify control of the company beyond Edinburgh. And half her board members have left Scotland in the last month to direct affairs from London and Paris.”
“And you will command this company?”
“Wherever my wife and the queen wish me. I suspect that will be in the North, will it not?”
“If James is not mustering troops, then most definitely you will be needed in the North. You know that Anabel is trying to draw Philip’s forces here first.”
“Yes. And I didn’t say James would not muster troops. But he also will not commit to their use unless he is absolutely forced to. He is using his mother as a safeguard, hoping Philip wants Mary back enough to not want her executed by Scotland in retaliation.”
Kit remembered his time with the two monarchs in Spain—haughty Mary Stuart and inscrutable Philip Hapsburg. Philip might not be in a hurry to get his wife back, now that she had fulfilled her primary function of providing him sons. As well as her secondary function—irritating Elizabeth.
“All we can do now is play out the game,” Kit concluded. “The list of things we can control is growing shorter by the day.”
Two days after leaving Berwick to return to Middleham, Anabel’s party was intercepted by a courier from the Earl of Arundel. He had come north to Hull in the last month, bringing with him a significant number of armed men. Anabel met Kit’s eyes, and sighed inwardly. Time to face the devil and hope she didn’t get burned.
They arrived at Hull Castle with as little fanfare as could be managed. To her surprise—and displeasure—Tomás Navarro was already there.
“I was not aware that you had asked leave to come to Hull,” Anabel said frostily.
Navarro regarded her with an assurance bordering on arrogance that made her skin prickle. Something ugly was brewing. His words, though, were perfectly correct.
“Your Highness, the Earl of Arundel is waiting above for us.”
Perhaps not that correct. An earl waited upon a princess, not the other way round.
Fortunately, Anabel had learned from the best how to assert her position. “The earl asked to see me. It is not for him to decide who will join us. I will send for you when I am ready.”
“As you wish, Your Highness. You may find Lord Arundel less…amenable than in the past.”
She stared at the priest. “We shall see.”
Arundel was not nearly as rude as Navarro. The young earl was on his feet when she swept into the low-ceilinged chamber, and he made a proper bow. But he wasn’t precisely deferential, either.