Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set (101 page)

I knew full well the folly of such daydreams. If the king had meant to free Will from his wife, he’d have done so already. But no matter how sensible my thoughts, I found it impossible to tear my admiring gaze away from the handsome knight who wore my favor.

“Oh, look!” Kate’s squeal of delight made me jump.

She was pointing at the Dudley brothers. As I watched, Harry leapt onto his horse after the gray was already running. Then he dismounted and repeated the trick from the other side and from the back. Not to be outdone, Jack mounted and dismounted without using the stirrups, grabbing his big bay by the mane to jump into the saddle. Unable to compete with an older and more experienced jouster in the traditional contests, the two Dudleys sought to attract our attention another way.

Will did not find their antics amusing. I hid a smile when I caught him scowling at them. How could I not feel flattered by his show of jealousy? Nor was I displeased that the Dudley boys were vying for my attention. I was fond of them both and had once or twice allowed Harry more kisses. Truth be told, Harry Dudley was very good at kissing.

When I caught myself wondering how Will Parr’s skills in that area would compare, I told Kate it was too cold to remain in the gallery any longer and hustled her back to the safety of Lady Lisle’s lodgings.

Neither Lady Lisle nor Mother was there, having gone to visit Queen Kathryn, but a good fire burned in the hearth. I was glad of the opportunity to warm myself. My gloveless hand was chilled to the bone.

Kate was chattering excitedly to Bridget about the “tournament” when Dorothy Bray burst into the room. She came straight at me, eyes flashing with hatred, and gave me a violent shove. I tumbled to the floor on my backside, tangled in a welter of skirts. One flailing hand struck the edge of a chest as I fell. I cried out at the sudden, shocking pain. Cradling my bruised fingers, I glared up at her.

“What was that for?”

She stood over me, fists upraised, looking for all the world as if she’d like to fall on me and beat me senseless. No one else in the chamber moved.

When Dorothy didn’t answer, I pushed myself to my feet. “What is the matter with you?”

She called me a vile name.

My eyes widened in shock. “Dorothy, I do not understand why—”

“He doesn’t want me anymore,” she said in a harsh whisper. “He wants you.”

Although there was no question in my mind as to who “he” was, my first impulse was to tell her she was imagining things. Then I remembered the way Will had smiled at me, and the tender way he’d been teasing me only a short time before in the tiltyard.

“You set out to steal him from me. Do not trouble to deny it. I know it’s true.”

“When did I have an opportunity to set traps for your lover? He’s been in the north, far away from both of us.”

“You danced with him at Cowling Castle.”

“Oh, a great sin, that one! I am sorry if he lost interest in you, Dorothy, but it had nothing to do with me.”

“It had everything to do with you. He admitted as much to me before we left Whitehall, when I confronted him and demanded an explanation for his lack of warmth. He said he’ll never marry me, that when he is able to wed, he will take an innocent as his bride. Someone
malleable
. No doubt he thinks you will suit him very well!”

Before I could point out that Will Parr’s words did not prove he had anyone in mind, let alone me, Dorothy advanced on me again. This time she seized me by the shoulders, using both hands. Her nails bit into my skin, even through the thickness of gown and kirtle. She brought her face so close to mine that I could feel every word as a separate puff of air.

“Whore. Trollop!” She added a few other names I’d never heard before, although I had no doubt about their meaning. “You’re a fool, too, if you fall prey to his sweet promises. The king will never grant his petition. Never! There will be no second marriage by royal decree.”

Belatedly, Bridget decided it was time to intervene. The older woman cleared her throat. “If a man strikes another in a royal palace when the king is in residence, he can be sentenced to have his hand cut off. Do you suppose the punishment is the same for a woman?”

As abruptly as Dorothy had grabbed hold of me, she let go.

“It is true,” Bridget said. “And why should His Grace show you
mercy, Mistress Bray, when he does not quail at executing his own wives?”

Face pale, eyes wide, Dorothy turned and fled. I stared after her, my mind awhirl. I’d have pitied her if I’d believed for a moment that she was suffering from a broken heart, but her behavior with Ned Brydges at Woodstock argued against that conclusion. It was thwarted ambition that made her so furious with me, not unrequited love. Ned had yet to attain a knighthood, while Will Parr was already Baron Parr of Kendal.

“What was all that about?” Kate demanded.

“Dorothy has taken leave of her senses.”

“She was talking about Lord Parr. And she is right. He does fancy you.”

“He may be attracted to my person,” I said, smoothing my hands over skirts that did not need any adjustment, “but if he thinks me
malleable
, he does not know me very well.” Did he think he could fashion me into the perfect, biddable mate? I was not a lump of clay to be molded. I looked up to find Bridget watching me. “You are not to say a word about this to Lady Lisle or to my mother,” I told her. “There is no truth to Dorothy Bray’s accusations. And even if there were, I would never be cozened by empty promises.” I would never, I told myself, make the same mistakes Dorothy had.

Bridget sent me a skeptical look, but agreed to keep silent. Soon after, she went out to run an errand for Lady Lisle, leaving me alone with my little sister.

“Will Parr wants you, Bess,” Kate said, “and I saw the way you watched him at the tiltyard.” She giggled.

“I was admiring his athletic prowess. I admired Jack and Harry, too. And . . . and I’ve
kissed
Harry.”

“Do you want to marry Harry Dudley?”

“I do not want to marry anyone. At least, not yet.”

“Harry is young and virile.” Kate lifted one hand, then the other, as if to imitate weighing relative merits on a scale. “But Lord Parr is wealthy. And pleasing to look at, even if he is old.”

“He is hardly ancient! And any woman with sense much prefers a man to a boy.” A wave of heat climbed into my face. Annoyed by my lack of control—it seemed to me that I blushed much too easily of late—I reminded both Kate and myself of the one thing that must stop me from encouraging Will Parr’s suit, even if I wanted to accept him. “He is married, Kate. So long as he already has a wife, he has nothing honorable to offer me.”

10

T
he good weather held after Mother and Kate left for home. The following day the entire royal household—or so it seemed—rode out into the open country between Greenwich and the smaller royal palace of Eltham to go hawking. This was one of the king’s favorite pastimes. The mews at Greenwich were located in the inner court, separated from His Grace’s bedchamber by only one room. He kept his falcons closer to him than he did the queen.

I rode my own horse, Prancer, and attended Lady Lisle, but I did not have a hunting bird on my glove. I was happy not to. Their beaks were sharp and their talons sharper.

Will Parr dropped back to ride beside me. He doffed his bonnet, a marvelous creation of dark green velvet with a white plume. “Mistress Brooke. You look especially fine this morning.”

“As do we all. My mother always says there is nothing like a brisk ride on a chilly day to put roses in one’s cheeks.”

“You far outshine every other damsel present.”

“If you grow too flowery in your speech, sir, I will not believe a word you say.”

“So practical for one so young.” Amusement shone in his expressive light brown eyes.

“You do well to note that quality in me. I am quite set in my ways. I have not a
malleable
bone in my body.”

Prancer shied away from Will’s mount at that moment, preventing me from seeing his reaction. I couldn’t tell if he remembered what he’d said to Dorothy. Had he made the remark at all? It would be just like my dear aunt to lie to me. If she couldn’t have Will for herself, she wouldn’t want anyone else to have him, either.

Will turned the subject to the newest fashion in sport—shooting ducks with a handgun in the marshes near Greenwich. He had accompanied the king on such an expedition a few days earlier. This topic sufficed until we began to follow a trail through a wooded copse.

When Will abruptly fell silent, I realized we had entered a small clearing and that, by chance or design, we’d become separated from the rest of the hunting party. Will put his hand on the pommel of Prancer’s saddle and brought both horses to a stop.

“I do not think I knew what love was until I met you, Bess.” He spoke in a quiet voice and his words were all the more potent for being so simple.

“You scarcely know me.”

“I know enough.”

Although my heart swelled with pleasure, I forced myself to answer in a cold and haughty tone. “More likely you are the sort of man who falls in and out of love at the drop of a hat.”

“Never!”

“It was not so long ago that you were eager as a lapdog for my aunt’s smallest favor.”

His lips tightened. I reminded myself that it would be best if he took me in dislike. He invaded my dreams far too often as it was, and I had
begun to have difficulty putting thoughts of him out of my mind during waking hours.

“I was under a spell,” Will said after a long, tense moment. “Dorothy used her woman’s wiles on me until I could no longer remember my own name.”

I looked at him askance. “When you first met her, she was a girl younger than I am now, and you had long since attained your majority. You were no green lad to—”

“She was never as innocent as you are, Bess.”

I bit my lip to keep from blurting out that I was no innocent. He would misunderstand. I
was
innocent in the way he meant. I had never lain with a man, never been the recipient of any greater attention from one than a few enthusiastic kisses. But I knew what men and women did in private when they yielded to lust. Both Mother and Aunt Elizabeth had described the act of coupling to me in frank terms, warning me that I must not give myself to any man before marriage, no matter how much I might want to.

“You wrote love letters to Dorothy,” I said.

“One or two,” he admitted.

“She said—”

“What? That I promised her marriage? How could I?”

“But you came to Cowling Castle to see her.”

“I came to solicit your father’s support in Parliament. I did not even know she was there until after I arrived.”

My hand clenched so hard on Prancer’s reins that the horse shied. Will turned his mount so that we were facing each other. Everything he felt was there for me to see in his face. When he spoke again, I could no longer doubt his sincerity.

“I want to marry you, Bess. Why does that so surprise you?”

“We can count on one hand the number of occasions we have spoken together.” I tried to urge Prancer forward, out of the clearing, but she was skittish, sensing the conflicted emotions of her rider. “And how can you marry me? You are not free to marry anyone.”

Once again he caught hold of the pommel. “Is the idea so repulsive to you?” His teasing smile told me that he knew it was not.

“Have you forgotten that you already have a wife?” This time my attempt at coldness failed utterly. My voice shook.

“That marriage was declared invalid by a special act of Parliament.”

“But your wife is still alive. You cannot wed again as long as she lives. I hope you do not plan to murder the poor woman.” I made the suggestion without thinking, but in the next instant I realized how simple a matter it would be to do away with an unwanted spouse. “You must not even consider such a thing! If any harm came to her because of me, I should never forgive myself.”

His smile turned into a scowl. “She betrayed me with another man!”

“And you betrayed your marriage vows with Dorothy. And no doubt with others, too.” A man as well favored as Will Parr had never lived celibate at court.

“I will not lie to you, Bess. I wish Anne were dead.” At last he released the pommel. “But I will do nothing to hasten her end. I swear it.”

Now it was my turn to reach out to him. An overwhelming need to know more had me touching his forearm with my fingers. “Will you tell me about her?”

“You . . . you want to know about Anne Bourchier?”

I nodded. How else could I understand Will?

His reluctance was palpable, but so was my determination. Resigned, he dismounted and lifted me from my saddle. The clearing contained a large, flat-topped boulder, just the right height to serve as a bench. In the distance I heard the occasional shout, but the hawking party had moved on.

Will spread his cloak over the boulder to protect us from the chill of the stone. Just his nearness was enough to warm me. And his willingness to share his past did more to convince me of his sincerity than any of his pretty words of love.

“My mother was ambitious for her children,” he began when we were settled side by side on the hard surface of the rock. “She was widowed
young, but she was one of Queen Catherine of Aragon’s ladies. Thus she was able to arrange a match for me with the only child of the old Earl of Essex. The expectation was that I would be granted his title when he died. I married Anne Bourchier when we were both children. She was barely ten years old. I was fifteen.”

I nodded. I’d learned that much from listening at the peephole in Cowling Castle.

“After the wedding, I did not see her again for twelve years. In the interim I served in the household of the king’s bastard, Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Richmond, God rest his soul. There I was surrounded by great music, and the art of the finest painters and sculptors, and books of every kind. Anne knew nothing of such pleasures. She had been given little education of any sort. We had nothing to say to each other when I finally went to live with her in her father’s house.”