In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,60

quiet, she would come to my room. I was terrified at the risk she was taking, for I knew that, if Lady Shelton discovered, she most certainly would be sent away; she might even be imprisoned. I was sure both the King and Anne Boleyn were very much afraid of the people's feelings for my mother and me.

She was helped in this by one of the maids who was a sweet girl and wanted to do more for me. I was afraid her devotion would be noticed and she sent away; I told her that would sorely grieve me.

There was a secret understanding between us that she should pretend to be brusque with me, in common with the others around me. It was very important to me that she should stay near me, and although she thought of me as the Princess, it was necessary that she did not show this.

It was little incidents like this which sustained me. Later she became bolder, and it was through her, with Margaret Bryan's help, that letters from my mother and even Chapuys, the Emperor's ambassador, were smuggled in to me.

One day Margaret told me that the King was coming to Hatfield to see the Princess.

Now was my chance. If I could speak to him face to face, surely he would not fail to be moved by my plight. I would plead with him. I would make him understand. I must see him, I told myself.

The house was in tumult. The King was coming! I wondered whether she would be with him. Surely she would, for it was the baby they would come to see… her baby. If she came, there would be no hope of my seeing him. I was sure of that.

I thought of what I must do. I would throw myself at his feet. I would beg him to remember that I was his daughter.

The great day came.

My little maid was agog with excitement. “They say Queen Anne is not coming to Hatfield because you are here,” she told me.

“Surely she will come to see her own child.”

“They say she will not.”

“If he comes alone …” I murmured. The girl nodded. She knew what I meant.

And at length he came. It was true that Anne Boleyn had stayed some miles away and he would rejoin her after the visit.

I could smell the roasting meats; I was aware of the bustle of serving men rushing hither and thither in the last throes of preparation for the royal visit. And at last there he was, riding into Hatfield.

I was in my room… waiting. Would he send for me? Surely he must. Was I not his daughter? He had come to see one; surely he must see the other, too.

The hours wore on. Margaret came to tell me that he had been with Elizabeth and seemed mightily pleased with her. Margaret glowed with pride every time she mentioned Elizabeth. “He is now feasting in the hall,” she went on.

“They are in a panic in the kitchens lest anything go wrong.”

Surely he must ask: Where is my daughter Mary? Why is she not here?

But I could not go unless he sent for me.

The hours were passing. He was preparing to leave and he had not sent for me. Perhaps he had not asked about me. I must see him, I must.

But he was not going to send for me, and already they were riding out of the palace.

I dashed to the balcony. There he was. I stood there, looking down at him.

I did not call his name. I just stared and stared, my lips moving in prayer. Father…your daughter is here… please… please…do not leave without seeing me. Just a look…a smile… but look at me.

And then something made him turn, and for a few seconds we looked full at each other. He did not smile. He merely looked. What thoughts passed through his head, I did not know. What did he think to see this palefaced girl who had once been his pretty child, shabbily clad, when once she had been in velvet and cloth of gold, an outcast in his bastard daughter's household… what did he think?

He had passed on. He did lift his hat, though, in acknowledgment of my presence as he turned away.

All the gentlemen around him did likewise.

I had been noticed. And that was all his visit meant to me.

I WAS HEARING NEWS of my mother through Margaret and my maid.

When they moved me to Hatfield, they had tried