In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,109

gave herself airs. She certainly did not. She was just overwhelmed by all that had happened to her. She behaved like a child but she was quite experienced in certain ways of the world, as was to be revealed. I realized—only, I must admit, later, when I knew something of her past— that she was a girl of lusty sexual appetites and even if her good sense—of which she had very little—had warned her that she must not act in a certain way, she would have been unable to resist doing so.

I suppose she was just the girl to appeal to the jaded senses of an ageing man who had been bitterly disillusioned in his hopes of a beautiful bride.

I was surprised that she was aware of my dislike. I should have thought she was not intelligent enough to sense it. It was not a habit of hers to complain, but she did about my attitude to her, so she must have felt it deeply.

My father was annoyed that I had offended his little darling.

He said of me, “It is those women about her. She has too many of those whispering cronies. There is too much chatter in those apartments…too much brooding on this and that and rights and wrongs. She shall be taught a lesson.”

The lesson was to rob me of two of my women.

I was angry. I was fond of the women about me, and ours was a very happy household. I needed all the friends I could get. Fortunately Susan remained with some others of my closest comrades, but I did miss those two who were sent away.

I was about to protest when Chapuys came to see me.

“You must patch up this quarrel with the Queen,” he said.

“That stupid little creature!”

He laughed. “She pleases the King.” He gave a little smirk. “They say he has never been so pleased since he set eyes on the girl's cousin all those years ago. There must be a similarity to Anne Boleyn there.”

“Anne Boleyn was a clever woman,” I said. “This one is a fool.”

“None the less, one must beware of fools if they have power.”

“This one has power?”

“Through her devoted lover, of course. You are not entirely out of favor with the Court. Don't forget. You are next… after Edward.”

“Edward is so young.”

Chapuys looked at me slyly. “Who can say?” he murmured. “However, there must be no further estrangement between you and your father, and there will be if you continue to offend the Queen.”

“I did not think to offend her.”

“Yet you have shown disrespect for her in some way.”

“She is so silly.”

“Silly to you, but delectable to His Majesty, and it is His Majesty who has the power over us, remember. Find some means of making up the quarrel. The breach between you must not widen.”

I saw his point. There was always sound thinking behind Chapuys' words.

It was not difficult. When I was next in her presence, I admired her gown. She flashed her smile at me. She was really very pretty, and she had been so unused to having beautiful clothes that she was childishly delighted with her wardrobe. I admired her beautiful curls.

A few days after I had spoken to her, I made some progress. I learned that, while the Countess was in the Tower, Catharine had sent some clothes to her; and because his wife had wished it so ardently, the King had allowed her to do this.

I think that helped matters a great deal between us.

I mentioned to her that I knew she had done this, and I wanted to thank her for it.

“I heard that she was to die,” she said, “and it seemed terrible in that cold place. I hate the cold. It was cold in my grandmother's house in winter… and we were so poor, I hadn't any warm clothes… and I thought of the poor Countess…”

I said with feeling, “It was so good of you. I wanted to thank you for what you did…”

She gave me her dazzling smile.

“I sent her a nightgown of worsted, furred and lined… and I sent her some hose and shoes.”

“It was so kind…so very kind…”

“You loved her dearly,” said the Queen softly.

I nodded, too moved for words.

“She took the place of your mother. I had my grandmother… but she never took much notice of me.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said.

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you did for the Countess.”

It was the first time I had brought myself to call