The Flawed Mistress (The Summerville Journals) Read Online Free PDF Page B

morning.
       
“There is nothing to say, your majesty,” I replied. 
       
I could think of nothing else to say.  I had not had the practice at
conversation that another woman might have had and I hoped that this flaw in my
character might make him leave me alone, but it was not to be.
       
“That is all right,” he replied.  “I like a woman who is mysterious.”
       
Then he leaned toward me and kissed my lips.  I had never been kissed by a
man before, never, and it was an odd experience.  His lips were wet and
his breath stank, and I wanted to wipe my mouth on my sleeve but dare
not.  I knew there were worse things to come so was unsurprised when his
hand started to crawl up my skirts.  I tried to curl myself into an
imaginary ball, but it did not work, did not make him realise how I hated his
hands on me or if it did, he did not care.  His only interest, like all
men, was what he wanted.
       
He took my hand again and led me to the bed, where he started to remove my
clothing.  I had not experienced this before; I had always had to be
waiting in the bed, already naked.  I found the experience embarrassing in
the extreme, reminding me bitterly of my tenth birthday.  I started to cry
again, but it did not seem to have much affect .
       
“I think you being so shy is charming,” he said
softly.  “Such a refreshing change.”
       
So there would be no escape no matter what I did.  Once I stood naked
before him he lifted me into his arms and placed me in the bed.  He took
off his own clothes then and climbed in beside me, then he began to run his hands over my breast and thighs.  Once more I was ten
years old and helpless, once more I was in pain and
terror.  I began to sob but it did not stop him, not till he had finished
with me while I just lie still as I had been taught.
       
He said nothing else, merely left me to get dressed.  A servant came in to
help lace my bodice then I was taken back to the waiting coach and delivered
back to the house.  Once there, I climbed into bed and cried myself to
sleep, wondering if there were any life for me, wondering why God had chosen to
make me look like this if all it brought was heartache.
       
It seemed that I had disappointed the King as he did not send for me a second
time and for that I was grateful.  I had little to do with my time, my
late husband having left a pension for me as long as I stayed unmarried, which
would be a lifetime if I had my way. 
       
I rarely left the house.  Wherever I went I attracted the stares of both
men and women, men with a lecherous leer and women with a haughty
vindictiveness which hurt even more.  I felt happier just staying at
home.  I had no wish to go to court, no wish to attract the further
attention of the King, nor the jealousy of his Queen who was no longer in
favour.  He had got rid of one Queen so why not this one too?
       
But he had no excuse to divorce Anne, there was no
saying that it was not a valid marriage as he had done with Queen
Katherine.  I had a feeling she would not go quietly, but in the meantime
the servants’ gossip told me that the King was already pursuing another.
       
I only found out what was going on by listening at doors.  Since the only
person in my life who had ever talked to me and listened to me was my mother,
and since she had been dead now for almost six years, it is what I had become
accustomed to.  It never occurred to me to actually ask anybody, even the
servants.
       
I remember the day of Queen Anne’s execution as vividly as I recall my tenth
birthday.  I would not have believed it possible that someone who had
caused such a major upheaval as a change of religion in the land, could be brought to nothing at the whim of one man.
       
She had been convicted of many crimes, witchcraft, adultery, even incest with
her own brother, and now she would face the executioner.  I was not alone
in believing that her only crime had been