Betrayal in the Tudor Court. Darcey Bonnette

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes that shone with determination. She could have any man she wanted and still she chose God, Cecily thought wistfully.

      “I know what you are thinking. Stop looking at me,” Mirabella demanded.

      “What are you about?” Cecily countered.

      Mirabella bowed her head. “You are thinking, ‘What a waste, Mirabella going into the Church when she is so beautiful.’ ”

      Cecily gaped at her. She hadn’t wanted to be so transparent.

      “I hear the servants laughing at me, the piggish things the men say,” Mirabella told her. “You are just like them. You do not understand. I will be the bride of Christ, someone who will not paw at me and gape at me like some starved animal. Someone who will respect and cherish me for what is inside, for what is eternal, not for the beauty that will pass.”

      “But Jesus … well, he is not exactly here, Mirabella,” Cecily dared observe. “He can never be to you what an earthly man can be.”

      Mirabella clenched the material of her gown in frustration. “Oh, earthly men—such worthy creatures! Haven’t you witnessed enough marital bliss for you to see what it’s really about? Look to my parents. Look at my mother, shutting herself away that she might drink herself to death. Look at my blustering fool of a father, eking out what little pleasure he can find in his cards and dice while losing his fortune.” She shook her head. “And there are others even worse off. I will not be in their numbers, made the wife of someone who will be ungrateful for the children I give him, someone who will use mistresses and whores while I keep his house. Look what joy marriage brought poor Queen Catherine of Aragon. Now she is banished and made Princess Dowager, pushed aside so King Henry can elevate a common whore.” Mirabella sighed and shook her head. “I will not be put last for anyone and you can bet with a man that is just what you will be. Maybe that is a life for some.” Mirabella shook her head emphatically. “But not for me.”

      “Of course not,” said Cecily. For the first time she began to understand Mirabella’s choice.

      “Of course you will never have to worry about any of that,” Mirabella said in gentler tones. “You’re marrying Brey.”

      Cecily smiled. “Yes … Brey.” She bowed her head, then. “It will have to be different with Brey now, won’t it?”

      Mirabella nodded gravely. “Yes, yes, it will.”

      Cecily suppressed a sob. She did not want it to be different.

      Brey did not understand Cecily’s withdrawal. She did not chase him in the woods any more. They did not tumble down hills or hide in haystacks and she always rode sidesaddle, never astride as she used to. And she sat so despicably straight! Mirabella must be behind all of this; Cecily has been spending an inordinate amount of time with her of late. And now she didn’t even sleep in the nursery any more! Nurse Matilda told him she was a lady now and ladies must keep their own chambers. What did she know? He had heard Cecily fart before—she was a champion, for love of God! Who could hear that and call her a lady?

      “I just don’t understand it, Father,” he told Father Alec when the two were riding alone one February day. Cecily was indoors doing some stupid thing that no doubt “ladies” occupied themselves with, so Brey took this opportunity to pour out his troubles to the caring tutor. “And it is not just that she won’t play most of our old games; she’s moody, too. She snaps at me and gets quite huffy like Mirabella. She never used to be like that!”

      Father Alec laughed. “Cecily is at a crossroads, Brey; you must be patient with her.” He turned toward Brey as they slowed their mounts. They were riding in the snow-covered fields today, which glistened against the noonday sun, bright and blinding. The air was crisp but pleasant enough to enjoy.

      “What kind of crossroads?” he persisted, annoyed. If he were at a similar sort of crossroads he’d be scolded no doubt.

      Father Alec shifted in the saddle a moment, then cleared his throat. He shifted again. “Well … er … I’m surprised your father hasn’t made you aware of this, Brey, but there comes a time in a girl’s life when—”

      “Oh, no!” Brey smacked his forehead with a chapped hand. “You don’t mean she’s—that she’s … oh, repulsive!”

      “So you have heard about it.” Father Alec chuckled. “If it is repulsive to you imagine how it must be for them.”

      “I don’t want to,” Brey said with a grimace. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I suppose I could not really imagine something like that happening to Cecily.” He turned to Father Alec, his face perfectly straight. “When do you suppose she’s going to have the baby?”

      Father Alec sat stunned.

      This was going to be a long ride.

      “He did it!” cried Lord Hal as he rushed in from a day of visiting friends, no doubt his pockets much lighter than before. “The king has wed Anne Boleyn in secret!”

      Father Alec and the children had been dining in the solar when he burst in, flushed from wine and excitement.

      “What’s more, she’s with child!” Lord Hal cried. “They think it happened when she went to France with him to meet King Francois.”

      “Then it is over?” asked Cecily. “All the trials to undo his marriage to Queen Catherine, everything? Lady Anne is queen now?”

      “She will never be queen.” Mirabella glowered.

      “She will be and you best respect it,” warned Lord Hal.

      Cecily smiled. “My parents knew the Boleyns. They would be pleased at her ascension,” she said, her tone reminiscent as an image of her parents swirled before her mind’s eye. She could not quite latch on to it. Their forms evaded her, their faces no more than smudged paintings on miniatures. She smiled away the thought as she anticipated the reign of the young, witty Anne Boleyn.

      “Support who the king supports is what I always say,” said Lord Hal.

      Mirabella shook her head as she quit the room.

      Cecily surveyed the faces in the room, one a bright-eyed, golden-haired boy, the other a handsome courtier, the other a humble tutor, all of them so dear to her. As she looked at them she thought of another, the forgotten one, lying alone in her chambers.

      And went to her.

      “Lady Grace, I thought you would like to know the news,” she told her, ignoring the stench of the room as she sat at Lady Grace’s bedside. As discreetly as possible she averted her eyes so she did not have to look at the withered, yellow figure that lay under the covers.

      “News?” asked the raspy voice.

      “The king has married the Lady Pembroke—Anne Boleyn—in secret!” she cried, forcing cheer into her voice. “Isn’t it exciting?”

      “I should be scandalised,” said Lady Grace with a weak smile.

      “Mirabella is scandalised enough for everyone,” Cecily told her with a slight giggle. “But Lord Hal doesn’t seem to mind. Neither does Father Alec.”

      “Father Alec has taken all of СКАЧАТЬ