Reluctant Queen: Tudor Historical Novel About Mary Rose Tudor, the Defiant Little Sister of King Henry VIII Read Online Free PDF Page A

bedding, under the circumstances of her imminent departure, was rather makeshift, but somebody had at least put a pallet bed in the room and, after being relieved of her head-dress and gown by one of her attendants, Mary sank on to it and settled back on the cool pillows. She didn’t expect to sleep as her mind was too troubled. Besides, her Maids of Honour entered the chamber then, chattering like so many argumentative magpies, excited by the prospect of travelling to France. Mary couldn’t bear their excitement and turned her head away. Along the corridor, she could hear Lady Guildford sternly rebuke another of her ladies before she bustled in and banished the rest from the chamber so Mary could sleep in peace.
    Her thoughts drifted and she fell into a light doze, her dreams filled with pictures of an ardent Louis, all scrawny limbs and drooling, toothless red mouth, pursuing her around their bedchamber. She wasn’t sorry to be wakened from such a dream by the crack of thunder overhead. Immediately, lightning raced across the sky, lighting up the room.
    The warmth had vanished from the day. A chill struck her as she climbed from the pallet and she shivered. Lady Anne Grey, daughter to her cousin, the Marquis of Dorset and one of the ladies who were to accompany her to France, was sitting by the window, quietly reading by the light of a candle and Mary asked her, ‘What hour is it?’
    ‘Tis after five of the clock, Your Grace.’
    Mary had lain for an hour, but didn’t feel rested; no doubt worn out by the necessity of making sure that, in her troubled dreams, Louis didn't catch her. But at least her headache had subsided to a dull throb.
    Anne closed her book, summoned the other ladies. Mary submitted to their ministrations as they prepared her for supper. All her gowns were packed, so she must climb back into the one she had worn on the road. But while she had slept, her ladies had seen to it that the dust had been brushed from her gown and head-dress, her jewels burnished till they shone once more. Now, with her hair brushed, her skin perfumed, and her head-dress fixed on her head to shut in her dreams, Mary took a last, lingering look at her reflection in the hastily set-up glass. She hoped her brother wasn’t feeling too hearty, as this evening, she felt as hard put as the ever-pregnant Catherine to match his energy. Mary turned away from the glass and with a resolution that was new to her, she walked to the door and descended for supper.
     
     
    The day had turned sultry and the hall was suffocating, a heat made worse by all the hot, sweaty bodies of the courtiers. Mary spotted Henry, his auburn head easily visible above those of the admirers that always surrounded him and she made her way across to him.
    He saw her and made space for her beside him. ‘Well sister,’ he remarked, ‘you are in better looks than when we arrived. Have you rested?’
    Mary nodded. ‘Till the storm woke me. Think you it will delay my departure?’ Hope entered her voice at the prospect. Henry noticed, of course, and immediately crushed it.
    ‘Nay, sister, ‘tis only a squall. Tomorrow will dawn bright and clear, you’ll see. Your departure will not be delayed.’
    Swallowing her disappointment, Mary forced herself to murmur, ‘That’s good. I’m sure Your Grace has much urgent business awaiting you back in London. I’d not like to delay you.’
    Henry was not deceived. He chided, ‘Nay, sweetheart. Don’t sound so tragic. I’d not abandon you here in Dover to await clement weather.’
    Her brother’s voice was soft and he was at his most charming. He had always loved her well, Mary knew. A love she suspected had sprung from her patent adoration of him as a little girl when she had followed him around like a puppy. It was only her recent defiance that had caused a breach between them. Mary realised how much she would miss him. Perhaps he was thinking the same of her for Henry could be a sentimental man. She put her arm