Reluctant Queen: Tudor Historical Novel About Mary Rose Tudor, the Defiant Little Sister of King Henry VIII by Geraldine Evans Page B
Authors: Geraldine Evans
Tags: Biographical, Biographical fiction, Historical fiction, Historical, Literature & Fiction, kindle, British, Genre Fiction, Geraldine Evans, tudor historical novel, tudor fiction, multi published author, reluctant queen, mary rose tudor, literature fiction historical biographical, fictional biography
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fire as it caught the light.
‘It is the custom for each Queen of France to own the ‘Miroir’,’ Louis told her. ‘So now, my Queen, the jewel is yours.’
Mary was touched. But then she reminded herself that Louis, as her purchaser, was only fulfilling his side of the bargain he had made with Henry. Still, she must say something. Louis would expect some return for his gift. Mary felt obliged to kiss him as a loving wife should before the assembled courtiers. She repressed an involuntary shudder as he began fondling her neck under its hood. His touch made her think of the night ahead and the night after that when the previous night’s indignities would no doubt have to be endured again.
To her surprise, Louis took her arm and suggested they go into dinner. It was not much after eight in the morning. Mary knew that Louis generally kept early hours, but she had assumed that would only mean he retired early, after supper, not that the usual ten in the morning dinner would be taken the best part of two hours earlier. Seeing her expression, Louis confessed to his early habits. But then he added that she was making him feel young again and that he would perhaps start to take up a young man’s customs. Mary hoped, if so, that it was only his customary meal time he altered.
The dishes were plentiful, though, following the custom of the king, most were on the plain side. Louis ate little, only some boiled fowl. He was equally abstemious with his wine, though he helped Mary with a generous hand to everything that was laid before her, chatting to her all the while, regaling her with tales of his court as though he wished to demonstrate that his son-in-law, Francis, wasn’t the only one able to entertain her.
Later that day, Mary was sewing in her chamber, when Lady Guildford entered, her face a mask of anger, her lips thinned to a vexatious line.
Alarmed, Mary asked her what was the matter. ‘Has the Duc de Valois been upsetting you again, Mother?’ Francis seemed to have taken it as his chosen task in life to tease her at every opportunity. And as Lady Guildford’s sense of humour was never her strong suit, he would have found it a satisfying task.
‘Would that it were something so trivial, Madam. I wouldn’t trouble you with it.’
Thoroughly unnerved now, Mary threw aside her sewing and stood up. ‘What is it, then, Mother? What has happened?’
‘Proud Norfolk, my lady, has just told me I’m to pack my bags and make ready to depart. It seems I’m not wanted here.’
‘Surely not, Mother? King Louis rules here, not Norfolk.’
‘Aye. That’s been made right plain. It seems the king, your husband, did give the order. Norfolk was but his messenger. Still, he made it clear enough I wasn’t wanted here and great delight he took in the telling. What King Henry will say about their treatment of us, my lady, the Lord alone knows. I nearly boxed Norfolk’s ears, such a smirk he wore.’
‘Where’s Norfolk now, Mother?’
‘Closeted with the king. Doubtless hatching more plans. King Louis’ a sly one. It’s my belief he doesn’t want you subject to any wise and experienced English counsel. Norfolk said I wouldn’t be the only member of your train dismissed.’
Mary clutched at Lady Guildford’s arm. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It seems your husband has taken a fit of pique about the number of your English attendants. Norfolk told me that only those named on the marriage contract are to stay. The rest are to be dismissed and replaced with ladies of the French court.. They’ve summoned a meeting of the Council to discuss it.’
Stunned, Mary wondered how it was that the husband who could act so loving in the morning could act with such unwarranted cruelty but a few hours later. He had said nothing of this to her at dinner. Mary was aware that Lady Guildford had annoyed him, but she had thought Louis had put his annoyance aside and forgotten it, regarding it as but a natural adjustment to his
‘It is the custom for each Queen of France to own the ‘Miroir’,’ Louis told her. ‘So now, my Queen, the jewel is yours.’
Mary was touched. But then she reminded herself that Louis, as her purchaser, was only fulfilling his side of the bargain he had made with Henry. Still, she must say something. Louis would expect some return for his gift. Mary felt obliged to kiss him as a loving wife should before the assembled courtiers. She repressed an involuntary shudder as he began fondling her neck under its hood. His touch made her think of the night ahead and the night after that when the previous night’s indignities would no doubt have to be endured again.
To her surprise, Louis took her arm and suggested they go into dinner. It was not much after eight in the morning. Mary knew that Louis generally kept early hours, but she had assumed that would only mean he retired early, after supper, not that the usual ten in the morning dinner would be taken the best part of two hours earlier. Seeing her expression, Louis confessed to his early habits. But then he added that she was making him feel young again and that he would perhaps start to take up a young man’s customs. Mary hoped, if so, that it was only his customary meal time he altered.
The dishes were plentiful, though, following the custom of the king, most were on the plain side. Louis ate little, only some boiled fowl. He was equally abstemious with his wine, though he helped Mary with a generous hand to everything that was laid before her, chatting to her all the while, regaling her with tales of his court as though he wished to demonstrate that his son-in-law, Francis, wasn’t the only one able to entertain her.
Later that day, Mary was sewing in her chamber, when Lady Guildford entered, her face a mask of anger, her lips thinned to a vexatious line.
Alarmed, Mary asked her what was the matter. ‘Has the Duc de Valois been upsetting you again, Mother?’ Francis seemed to have taken it as his chosen task in life to tease her at every opportunity. And as Lady Guildford’s sense of humour was never her strong suit, he would have found it a satisfying task.
‘Would that it were something so trivial, Madam. I wouldn’t trouble you with it.’
Thoroughly unnerved now, Mary threw aside her sewing and stood up. ‘What is it, then, Mother? What has happened?’
‘Proud Norfolk, my lady, has just told me I’m to pack my bags and make ready to depart. It seems I’m not wanted here.’
‘Surely not, Mother? King Louis rules here, not Norfolk.’
‘Aye. That’s been made right plain. It seems the king, your husband, did give the order. Norfolk was but his messenger. Still, he made it clear enough I wasn’t wanted here and great delight he took in the telling. What King Henry will say about their treatment of us, my lady, the Lord alone knows. I nearly boxed Norfolk’s ears, such a smirk he wore.’
‘Where’s Norfolk now, Mother?’
‘Closeted with the king. Doubtless hatching more plans. King Louis’ a sly one. It’s my belief he doesn’t want you subject to any wise and experienced English counsel. Norfolk said I wouldn’t be the only member of your train dismissed.’
Mary clutched at Lady Guildford’s arm. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It seems your husband has taken a fit of pique about the number of your English attendants. Norfolk told me that only those named on the marriage contract are to stay. The rest are to be dismissed and replaced with ladies of the French court.. They’ve summoned a meeting of the Council to discuss it.’
Stunned, Mary wondered how it was that the husband who could act so loving in the morning could act with such unwarranted cruelty but a few hours later. He had said nothing of this to her at dinner. Mary was aware that Lady Guildford had annoyed him, but she had thought Louis had put his annoyance aside and forgotten it, regarding it as but a natural adjustment to his
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