In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,81

how the people reacted to it. The larger monasteries were left unmolested; but I could imagine that many an abbot was trembling in his sandals.

Then I was told that I was to meet the King, and everything else was banished from my mind.

My feelings were mixed. I wanted to see him. Part of me could not forget those days of my early childhood when he had loomed so large in my life—a god, all-powerful and gloriously benign. I had been so proud that he should be my father; and although I loved my mother more dearly than any living person, it was he who filled me with awe and admiration. His smile of approval had made me sublimely happy, and no matter how cruelly he behaved to me and those I loved, I still had the same special feeling for him which I was sure could never be entirely eradicated.

He would not come to Hunsdon; nor should I go to Court …yet. He wanted to see me first and he did not want too much noise about it. He must have felt a little uncertain about meeting a daughter who had for so many years defied him and had only just signed her submission most reluctantly.

I was to be taken at an appointed time to a country house where he would receive me.

I could not eat. I could not sleep. I hovered between excitement and apprehension. I prayed for guidance. I talked to my mother, begging her, once more, to understand why I had betrayed her in words, although in my heart I would always be true to her.

I talked to Susan Clarencieux of my fears.

She reassured me. “My lady,” she said, “you need have no fears. You are royal…as royal as the King.”

I put my finger on her lips. “Hush, Susan. I do not want to lose you. Such things as you say could be construed as treason.”

“It is true.”

“Truth can sometimes be treason, Susan. There. I am worse than you. We must guard our tongues. Let's talk of other things. What am I going to wear?”

For so long I had had few clothes and what I had were mended; but recently new garments had been sent to me and now I believed I could dress so that I would not look too shabby for the occasion.

Command came that I was to leave the following morning. Margaret Bryan came to me on the night before. She sat by my bed and held my hand as she used to in those long-ago days when my trials were just beginning.

“Have no fear,” she said. “All will be well. Remember, you are his daughter.”

“He forgot that once.”

“Nay. A man does not forget his daughter. He was plagued by other matters.”

“And I would not say what he wished me to. And now, I have, Margaret. God forgive me.”

“Hush, hush,” she said. “Everything will be understood. Try to rest. Be yourself… and all will be well.”

At the door she paused and looked at me.

“Do not forget the child,” she said. “She is only a baby. Speak for her… if there is a chance.”

I said, “I will, Margaret. But I must go carefully. He is so full of hatred for her mother now … as once he was for mine.”

“They are both gone now, God rest their souls,” said Margaret. “It is the poor children who remain.”

She then left me and I tried to compose myself and prepare for the next day's ordeal.

AT DAWN WE SET out and by mid-morning had reached our destination.

There I met the father whom I had not seen for five years. With him was his new Queen.

For a few moments we stood looking at each other. I wondered what he thought of me. When he had last seen me I had been a thin, spindly-legged girl of fifteen. Now I was a woman. I knew I had gained in dignity, especially so since I had been aware of my destiny. But I was so shocked by the change in him that I could think of little else.

When I had last seen him he had been the most handsome man I had ever known. He had stood taller than most men; he had always been recognized by his height and width at all those masques where he had delighted in trying to disguise himself. His complexion had been florid, but healthily so. Now it was purplish rather than pink. His weight had increased enormously. His was no longer an athletic figure.