Heart of Gold Read Online Free PDF

bury deep. Though Thomas Boleyn had been the one to walk away from Catherine, the pain of losing Elizabeth’s mother still ached within him. It was a hurt barely contained beneath the layers of tough skin. An anguish ever-present, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it.
    Elizabeth was tall, her complexion clear and healthy. She was not a voluptuous beauty, Sir Thomas thought. Not like Betsy Blount, Henry’s first mistress, nor like Mary or any of the others.
    “I don’t know what he...” The courtier paused, his irritation turning to outright anger. “Oh! the hell with it! Who can understand such things?”
    Elizabeth noted the furtive shake of the head that Madame Exton directed toward him. She sat quietly as her father turned and stalked to the table littered with official-looking documents. Sir Thomas lifted a tankard of ale and drained it, banging it on the table before turning back to her.
    “Elizabeth, I have always been good to you, haven’t I?”
    “ Oui, Sir Thomas —”
    “Speak no French with me, girl!” he exploded.
    “Y—yes, Father,” she stumbled, surprised at the ferocity of his manner. She stared at him as he visibly contained himself, and when he spoke again, his voice was calm, controlled.
    “Elizabeth, it’s time you took your place in the world.” The diplomat paused, turning his black eyes on her. “The point is, you have caught the eye of one who will raise you to the uttermost heights of society, and you will take...you would do well to take that place.”
    The young woman cursed the Duc de Bourbon under her breath. She should have known better than to be sociable with the nobleman this morning. The man had certainly stooped low. Now he was trying to force her compliance through her father. No chance, she thought.
    “Father, I have to explain.” Elizabeth paused, trying to gather together the words that were eluding her. “I have no wish to—”
    Her father’s glare silenced her. He was standing directly before her, his fists planted on his hips. “Girl, this has nothing to do with your wishes. This has to do with duty.”
    “Duty?” she exclaimed.
    “Aye. Duty.”
    She blurted out the words before she could stop them. “What duty do I owe to a lust-infected nobleman?”
    The power of the man’s slap knocked the young woman from her chair, sending her sprawling into the middle of the room. There was a sharp pain in her head, and then numbness, ringing, and the taste of her own blood. She crouched before her father, her shaking hand pressed to her face.
    “You will never, hear me, never again speak of your king in such terms.”
    “My king ?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened in disbelief. She glanced involuntarily at Madame Exton in her attempt to understand. The older woman’s head never lifted. Her father’s words brought her attention back to him.
    “The king desires to take you into his bed, Elizabeth.”
    “No!” the young woman gasped, her hands clutching desperately at Madame’s skirts. The tears rushed down her face uncontrollably. “No...he has...no...he has only seen me but once. This morning at the joust. It was only from a distance. This can’t be. He has given his illness to Mary, Father.”
    “I know that!” Sir Thomas shouted. There was nothing he hated more than hysterical women. “She wasn’t pure enough. He liked her well enough, but she wasn’t pure enough to cure his pox.”
    Madame Exton laid her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “The king’s doctors have told him that he must lay with only the purest virgins to rid himself of the disease.” She looked at the young woman reassuringly. “It will bring great honor to you and to our family.”
    Elizabeth stared at the woman in horror. She was speaking so softly. No emotions. No excitement. Elizabeth could hear the words clearly. “It is a small sacrifice, Elizabeth. And as Sir Thomas says, it is your duty.”
    “I cannot. I am not !” she exclaimed, casting about in desperation for some