In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,66

father's obsession with her. She was most elegantly attired—not flamboyantly and yet more outstanding for the sheer elegance, the cut of her clothes and her style of wearing them.

I noticed the band about her neck which many had copied but none wore as she did. I noticed the long hanging sleeves to cover the sixth nail. Marks of the devil, I thought, which she has exploited to add to her grace.

Her enormous dark eyes held mine. I was trembling, unable to believe this was really happening. It must be something in a dream. I had thought of her so much. I had conjured up this vision. But there she was. She had seated herself on the bed facing me. She smiled. It changed her face. She was dazzling.

She said in a gentle voice, “You have been very ill.”

I did not answer and she went on, “But you are better now. This rift… it has gone on too long. I do not want it to continue. I understand your feelings, of course, and I have come to talk to you, to make a proposition. If you will come to Court I will do all in my power to restore your father's love for you.”

I listened dazed, becoming more and more convinced that I was dreaming.

She smiled graciously. What did it mean? I reminded myself that I hated her. There was some ulterior motive in this… some evil purpose. She must be thinking that I was overwhelmed by this show of friendship. Did she expect me to fall on my knees and thank her?

I remained silent. I could find no words to answer her.

She went on, “There must be an end to these differences between you and your father. It is not good for the King, for you or for the country. So let us put an end to them.”

I heard myself stammer: “How?”

She smiled confidently. “You will return to Court. I promise you, you will be well treated. There shall be no discord. Everything that you had before will be yours. Perhaps it will be even better. There is only one thing you must do to achieve this.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

“You must honor me as the Queen. You must be respectful … and accept that this is now a fact.”

I could listen to no more. I saw it all. She and my father wanted me there to tell the people that I was not being shut out and ill treated. They did not want me. They would not accept me as the Princess Mary. I was not to be a princess. That title was reserved for this woman's bastard.

I said to her, “I could not acknowledge you as Queen because you are not Queen. I know of only one Queen of England, and that is my mother.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You are a fool,” she said. “A stubborn little fool.”

“I can only speak the truth,” I retorted. “If you would speak to my father on my behalf … if you would persuade him to allow me to join my mother…I should appreciate that.”

“You know that is not what I meant. I am suggesting that you come to Court. All you must do is accept the fact that there was no true marriage between the King and your mother, that I am the King's wife and Queen of this realm and that my daughter, Elizabeth, is the Princess of England.”

“But I accept none of this. How can I when it is not true?”

“Do you know you are in danger?” she said. “You incur the wrath of the King. Do you realize what could happen to you? I am giving you a chance to save yourself…to leave all this …”—she looked round the room with contempt—“… all this squalor. You shall have a luxurious apartment. You shall have all that is due to you as the King's daughter.”

“As the King's bastard, you mean.”

“There is no need for you to stress the point.”

“I stress it only to show its absurdity. I am the King's legitimate daughter. It is your daughter who is the bastard.”

She had risen. I thought she was going to strike me.

“I see that you are determined to destroy yourself,” she said.

“It is others who will try to destroy me,” I replied. “They have already tried persistently, God knows, but they have not succeeded yet.”

“I see I have made a mistake,” she went on. “I thought you would have more sense. You are stupidly blind. You do not see the dangers