At the King's Pleasure (Secrets of the Tudor Court) Read Online Free PDF Page B

one-handed and tossed it back, laughing.
    “The rebec is a useful instrument in courtship,” George said, directing his words solely to Lady Anne. “It is ideally suited to playing duets.”
    “With the lute?” Her full lips curved into a pleased smile at the thought.
    “With the lute,” he agreed, “or with the harp, the gittern, other rebecs, double pipes, double shawms, panpipes, or the voice.”
    “Stick to the lute,” Brandon advised in a lazy drawl.
    Charles Brandon was accustomed to doling out advice. Although not much older than Compton, he had more experience of the world than the rest of them put together. He’d been master of horse to the Earl of Essex by the time he was George’s age, and he’d gone on from there to serve King Henry the Seventh as an esquire of the body. No one could equal him in the tiltyard, and he was undeniably appealing to females. If the rumors George had heard were true, he’d already been married three times, twice to the same woman.
    “Will you sing if I play, Lord Hastings?” Lady Anne’s question caused him to lose interest in anyone else.
    “I do not have a strong voice,” he warned her.
    “No matter. I am certain we will do very well together.”
    She strummed a few notes and, caught, George complied with her wishes. He faltered, then gained strength and, as it was a song everyone knew, his nervousness quickly vanished. Performing a duet with Lady Anne proved most congenial . . . until the other gentlemen joined in. All of them, especially Compton, had better voices than George did.
    The moment the song ended, Compton seized the lute. He accompanied himself while he warbled a mournful love song. Lady Anne appeared to be impressed by the performance.
    George felt an unaccustomed surge of annoyance as he watched her flirt with the other man. He remembered another occasion, more than a year earlier, when he and Compton and some of the other young men at old King Henry’s court had spent an evening in a tavern near Greenwich Palace. There had been a pretty serving wench on the premises. She’d been responding to George’s advances . . . until Will Compton enticed her away with his charming smile and ready wit.
    This situation was far different, George assured himself. The Duke of Buckingham had already promised his sister to George and Compton knew it. George touched one tentative hand to Lady Anne’s sleeve, recapturing her attention.
    “Will you walk with me, Lady Anne? There is more to enjoy in these gardens than a single bower.”
    That she rose at once and went with him pleased George beyond measure. The strains of the lute and the sounds of the others singing together now became no more than a pleasant background accompaniment to their stroll. He never remembered afterward exactly what they said to each other. He only knew he was in heaven.

6
City of Westminster, September 19, 1509
    A s far as George Hastings was concerned, the matter of his marriage had been settled well before he answered the summons to visit his grandmother at her third husband’s house in the city of Westminster. Several weeks had passed since his walk in the garden with Lady Anne. He’d seen her almost every day since. True, they had generally been part of a large company, but she’d singled him out for attention and had danced with him more than she had with any of the other men. He’d come to adore this lively, appealing creature with the sparkling eyes. She was graceful in movement, pleasant in speech, and shapely in form. He could hardly wait to be bound to her at bed and at board till death did them part.
    It was a shock, therefore, to be confronted by his mother, his sister, and his grandmother and told that all three of them were opposed to this marriage.
    “I do not understand what you have against Lady Anne.”
    George’s words dropped into a deep pool of silence. He had to fight not to shift his weight from foot to foot or run a finger under the collar that suddenly felt